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+Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Minor Poems of Michael Drayton
+
+Author: Michael Drayton
+
+Editor: Cyril Brett
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2006 [EBook #17873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINOR POEMS OF MICHAEL DRAYTON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MINOR POEMS
+OF
+MICHAEL DRAYTON
+
+
+CHOSEN AND EDITED BY
+CYRIL BRETT
+
+
+OXFORD
+AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
+1907
+
+
+Henry Frowde, M.A.
+Publisher to the University of Oxford
+London, Edinburgh, New York
+and Toronto
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                              PAGE
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE                             iv
+
+INTRODUCTION                                     v
+
+SONNETS (1594)                                   1
+
+SONNETS (1599)                                  28
+
+SONNETS (1602)                                  42
+
+SONNETS (1605)                                  47
+
+SONNETS (1619)                                  51
+
+ODES (1619)                                     56
+
+ODES (1606)                                     85
+
+ELEGIES (1627)                                  88
+
+NIMPHIDIA (1627)                               124
+
+THE QUEST OF CYNTHIA                           144
+
+THE SHEPARDS SIRENA                            151
+
+THE MUSES ELIZIUM (1630)                       161
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1593)       231
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1605)       240
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1606)       242
+
+APPENDIX                                       248
+
+NOTES                                          257
+
+
+
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF DRAYTON'S LIFE AND WORKS
+
+
+1563       Drayton born at Hartshill, Warwickshire.
+
+1572?      Drayton a page in the house of Sir Henry Goodere, at
+                  Polesworth.
+
+c. 1574    Anne Goodere born?
+
+Feb. 1591  Drayton in London. _Harmony of Church_.
+
+1593       _Idea, the Shepherd's Garland_. _Legend of Peirs Gaveston_.
+
+1594       _Ideas Mirrour_. _Matilda_. Lucy Harrington becomes Countess
+                  of Bedford.
+
+1595       Sir Henry Goodere the elder dies. _Endimion and Phoebe_,
+                  dedicated to Lucy Bedford.
+
+1595-6     Anne Goodere married to Sir Henry Rainsford.
+
+1596       _Mortimeriados_. _Legends of Robert, Matilda, and Gaveston_.
+
+1597       _England's Heroical Epistles_.
+
+1598       Drayton already at work on the _Polyolbion_.
+
+1599       _Epistles_ and _Idea_ sonnets, new edition. (Date of Portrait
+                  of Drayton in National Portrait Gallery.)
+
+1600       _Sir John Oldcastle_.
+
+1602       New edition of _Epistles_ and _Idea_.
+
+1603       Drayton made an Esquire of the Bath, to Sir Walter Aston.
+                  _To the Maiestie of King James_. _Barons' Wars_.
+
+1604       _The Owle_. _A Pean Triumphall_. _Moyses in a Map of his
+                  Miracles_.
+
+1605       First collected edition of _Poems_. Another edition of
+                  _Idea_ and _Epistles_.
+
+1606       _Poemes Lyrick and Pastorall_. _Odes_. _Eglogs_.
+                  _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+1607       _Legend of Great Cromwell_.
+
+1608       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1609       Another edition of _Cromwell_.
+
+1610       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1613       Reprint of Collected Poems. First Part of _Polyolbion_.
+
+1618       Two _Elegies_ in FitzGeoffrey's _Satyrs and Epigrames_.
+
+1619       Collected Folio edition of Poems.
+
+1620       Second edition of _Elegies_, and reprint of 1619 Poems.
+
+1622       _Polyolbion_ complete.
+
+1627       _Battle of Agincourt_, _Nymphidia_, &c.
+
+1630       _Muses Elizium_. _Noah's Floud_. _Moses his Birth and
+                  Miracles_. _David and Goliah_.
+
+1631       Second edition of 1627 folio. Drayton dies towards the end
+                  of the year.
+
+1636       Posthumous poem appeared in _Annalia Dubrensia_.
+
+1637       _Poems_.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Michael Drayton was born in 1563, at Hartshill, near Atherstone, in
+Warwickshire, where a cottage, said to have been his, is still shown. He
+early became a page to Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth Hall: his own
+words give the best picture of his early years here.[1] His education
+would seem to have been good, but ordinary; and it is very doubtful if
+he ever went to a university.[2] Besides the authors mentioned in the
+Epistle to Henry Reynolds, he was certainly familiar with Ovid and
+Horace, and possibly with Catullus: while there seems no reason to doubt
+that he read Greek, though it is quite true that his references to Greek
+authors do not prove any first-hand acquaintance. He understood French,
+and read Rabelais and the French sonneteers, and he seems to have been
+acquainted with Italian.[3] His knowledge of English literature was
+wide, and his judgement good: but his chief bent lay towards the
+history, legendary and otherwise, of his native country, and his vast
+stores of learning on this subject bore fruit in the _Polyolbion_.
+
+While still at Polesworth, Drayton fell in love with his patron's
+younger daughter, Anne;[4] and, though she married, in 1596, Sir Henry
+Rainsford of Clifford, Drayton continued his devotion to her for many
+years, and also became an intimate friend of her husband's, writing a
+sincere elegy on his death.[5] About February, 1591, Drayton paid a
+visit to London, and published his first work, the _Harmony of the
+Church_, a series of paraphrases from the Old Testament, in
+fourteen-syllabled verse of no particular vigour or grace. This book was
+immediately suppressed by order of Archbishop Whitgift, possibly because
+it was supposed to savour of Puritanism.[6] The author, however,
+published another edition in 1610; indeed, he seems to have had a
+fondness for this style of work; for in 1604 he published a dull poem,
+_Moyses in a Map of his Miracles_, re-issued in 1630 as _Moses his Birth
+and Miracles_. Accompanying this piece, in 1630, were two other 'Divine
+poems': _Noah's Floud_, and _David and Goliath_. _Noah's Floud_ is, in
+part, one of Drayton's happiest attempts at the catalogue style of
+bestiary; and Mr. Elton finds in it some foreshadowing of the manner of
+_Paradise Lost_. But, as a whole, Drayton's attempts in this direction
+deserve the oblivion into which they, in common with the similar
+productions of other authors, have fallen. In the dedication and preface
+to the _Harmony of the Church_ are some of the few traces of Euphuism
+shown in Drayton's work; passages in the _Heroical Epistles_ also occur
+to the mind.[7] He was always averse to affectation, literary or
+otherwise, and in Elegy viij deliberately condemns Lyly's fantastic
+style.
+
+Probably before Drayton went up to London, Sir Henry Goodere saw that he
+would stand in need of a patron more powerful than the master of
+Polesworth, and introduced him to the Earl and Countess of Bedford.
+Those who believe[8] Drayton to have been a Pope in petty spite,
+identify the 'Idea' of his earlier poems with Lucy, Countess of Bedford;
+though they are forced to acknowledge as self-evident that the 'Idea' of
+his later work is Anne, Lady Rainsford. They then proceed to say that
+Drayton, after consistently honouring the Countess in his verse for
+twelve years, abruptly transferred his allegiance, not forgetting to
+heap foul abuse on his former patroness, out of pique at some temporary
+withdrawal of favour. Not only is this directly contrary to all we know
+and can infer of Drayton's character, but Mr. Elton has decisively
+disproved it by a summary of bibliographical and other evidence. Into
+the question it is here unnecessary to enter, and it has been mentioned
+only because it alone, of the many Drayton-controversies, has cast any
+slur on the poet's reputation.
+
+In 1593, Drayton published _Idea, the Shepherds Garland_, in nine
+Eclogues; in 1606 he added a tenth, the best of all, to the new edition,
+and rearranged the order, so that the new eclogue became the ninth. In
+these Pastorals, while following the _Shepherds Calendar_ in many ways,
+he already displays something of the sturdy independence which
+characterized him through life. He abandons Spenser's quasi-rustic
+dialect, and, while keeping to most of the pastoral conventions, such as
+the singing-match and threnody, he contrives to introduce something of a
+more natural and homely strain. He keeps the political allusions,
+notably in the Eclogue containing the song in praise of _Beta_, who is,
+of course, Queen Elizabeth. But an over-bold remark in the last line of
+that song was struck out in 1606; and the new eclogue has no political
+reference. He is not ashamed to allude directly to Spenser; and indeed
+his direct debts are limited to a few scattered phrases, as in the
+_Ballad_ of _Dowsabel_. Almost to the end of his literary career,
+Drayton mentions Spenser with reverence and praise.[9]
+
+It is in the songs interspersed in the Eclogues that Drayton's best work
+at this time is to be found: already his metrical versatility is
+discernible; for though he doubtless remembered the many varieties of
+metre employed by Spenser in the _Calendar_, his verses already bear a
+stamp of their own. The long but impetuous lines, such as 'Trim up her
+golden tresses with Apollo's sacred tree', afford a striking contrast to
+the archaic romance-metre, derived from _Sir Thopas_ and its fellows,
+which appears in _Dowsabel_, and it again to the melancholy, murmuring
+cadences of the lament for Elphin. It must, however, be confessed that
+certain of the songs in the 1593 edition were full of recondite conceits
+and laboured antitheses, and were rightly struck out, to be replaced by
+lovelier poems, in the edition of 1606. The song to Beta was printed in
+_Englands Helicon_, 1600; here, for the first time, appeared the song of
+_Dead Love_, and for the only time, _Rowlands Madrigal_. In these songs,
+Drayton offends least in grammar, always a weak point with him; in the
+body of the Eclogues, in the earlier Sonnets, in the Odes, occur the
+most extraordinary and perplexing inversions. Quite the most striking
+feature of the Eclogues, especially in their later form, is their bold
+attempt at greater realism, at a breaking-away from the conventional
+images and scenery.
+
+Having paid his tribute to one poetic fashion, Drayton in 1594 fell in
+with the prevailing craze for sonneteering, and published _Ideas
+Mirrour_, a series of fifty-one 'amours' or sonnets, with two prefatory
+poems, one by Drayton and one by an unknown, signing himself _Gorbo il
+fidele_. The title of these poems Drayton possibly borrowed from the
+French sonneteer, de Pontoux: in their style much recollection of
+Sidney, Constable, and Daniel is traceable. They are ostensibly
+addressed to his mistress, and some of them are genuine in feeling; but
+many are merely imitative exercises in conceit; some, apparently, trials
+in metre. These amours were again printed, with the title of 'sonnets',
+in _1599_[10], 1600, _1602_, 1603, _1605_, 1608, 1610, 1613, _1619_, and
+1631, during the poet's lifetime. It is needless here to discuss whether
+Drayton were the 'rival poet' to Shakespeare, whether these sonnets were
+really addressed to a man, or merely to the ideal Platonic beauty; for
+those who are interested in these points, I subjoin references to the
+sonnets which touch upon them.[11] From the prentice-work evident in
+many of the _Amours_, it would seem that certain of them are among
+Drayton's earliest poems; but others show a craftsman not meanly
+advanced in his art. Nevertheless, with few exceptions, this first
+'bundle of sonnets' consists rather of trials of skill, bubbles of the
+mind; most of his sonnets which strike the reader as touched or
+penetrated with genuine passion belong to the editions from 1599
+onwards; implying that his love for Anne Goodere, if at all represented
+in these poems, grew with his years, for the 'love-parting' is first
+found in the edition of 1619. But for us the question should not be, are
+these sonnets genuine representations of the personal feeling of the
+poet? but rather, how far do they arouse or echo in us as individuals
+the universal passion? There are at least some of Drayton's sonnets
+which possess a direct, instant, and universal appeal, by reason of
+their simple force and straightforward ring; and not in virtue of any
+subtle charm of sound and rhythm, or overmastering splendour of diction
+or thought. Ornament vanishes, and soberness and simplicity increase, as
+we proceed in the editions of the sonnets. Drayton's chief attempt in
+the jewelled or ornamental style appeared in 1595, with the title of
+_Endimion and Phoebe_, and was, in a sense, an imitation of Marlowe's
+_Hero and Leander_. _Hero and Leander_ is, as Swinburne says, a shrine
+of Parian marble, illumined from within by a clear flame of passion;
+while _Endimion and Phoebe_ is rather a curiously wrought tapestry, such
+as that in Mortimer's Tower, woven in splendid and harmonious colours,
+wherein, however, the figures attain no clearness or subtlety of
+outline, and move in semi-conventional scenery. It is, none the less,
+graceful and impressive, and of a like musical fluency with other poems
+of its class, such as _Venus and Adonis_, or _Salmacis and
+Hermaphrodius_. Parts of it were re-set and spoilt in a 1606 publication
+of Drayton's, called _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+In 1593 and 1594 Drayton also published his earliest pieces on the
+mediaeval theme of the 'Falls of the Illustrious'; they were _Peirs
+Gavesson_ and _Matilda the faire and chaste daughter of the Lord Robert
+Fitzwater_. Here Drayton followed in the track of Boccaccio, Lydgate,
+and the _Mirrour for Magistrates_, walking in the way which Chaucer had
+derided in his _Monkes Tale_: and with only too great fidelity does
+Drayton adapt himself to the dullnesses of his model: fine rhetoric is
+not altogether wanting, and there is, of course, the consciousness that
+these subjects deal with the history of his beloved country, but neither
+these, nor _Robert, Duke of Normandy_ (1596), nor _Great Cromwell, Earl
+of Essex_ (1607 and 1609), nor the _Miseries of Margaret_ (1627) can
+escape the charge of tediousness.[12] _England's Heroical Epistles_ were
+first published in 1597, and other editions, of 1598, 1599, and 1602,
+contain new epistles. These are Drayton's first attempt to strike out a
+new and original vein of English poetry: they are a series of letters,
+modelled on Ovid's _Heroides_,[13] addressed by various pairs of lovers,
+famous in English history, to each other, and arranged in chronological
+order, from Henry II and Rosamond to Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guilford
+Dudley. They are, in a sense, the most important of Drayton's writings,
+and they have certainly been the most popular, up to the early
+nineteenth century. In these poems Drayton foreshadowed, and probably
+inspired, the smooth style of Fairfax, Waller, and Dryden. The metre,
+the grammar, and the thought, are all perfectly easy to follow, even
+though he employs many of the Ovidian 'turns' and 'clenches'. A certain
+attempt at realization of the different characters is observable, but
+the poems are fine rhetorical exercises rather than realizations of the
+dramatic and passionate possibilities of their themes. In 1596, Drayton,
+as we have seen, published the _Mortimeriados_, a kind of epic, with
+Mortimer as its hero, of the wars between King Edward II and the
+Barons.[14] It was written in the seven-line stanza of Chaucer's
+_Troilus and Cressida_ and Spenser's _Hymns_. On its republication in
+1603, with the title of the _Barons' Wars_, the metre was changed to
+_ottava rima_, and Drayton showed, in an excellent preface, that he
+fully appreciated the principles and the subtleties of the metrical art.
+While possessing many fine passages, the _Barons' Wars_ is somewhat
+dull, lacking much of the poetry of the older version; and does not
+escape from Drayton's own criticism of Daniel's Chronicle Poems: 'too
+much historian in verse, ... His rhymes were smooth, his metres well did
+close, But yet his manner better fitted prose'.[15] The description of
+Mortimer's Tower in the sixth book recalls the ornate style of _Endimion
+and Phoebe_, while the fifth book, describing the miseries of King
+Edward, is the most moving and dramatic. But there is a general
+lifelessness and lack of movement for which these purple passages barely
+atone. The cause of the production of so many chronicle poems about this
+time has been supposed[16] to be the desire of showing the horrors of
+civil war, at a time when the queen was growing old, and no successor
+had, as it seemed, been accepted. Also they were a kind of parallel to
+the Chronicle Play; and Drayton, in any case even if we grant him to
+have been influenced by the example of Daniel, never needed much
+incentive to treat a national theme.
+
+About this time, we find Drayton writing for the stage. It seems
+unnecessary here to discuss whether the writing of plays is evidence of
+Drayton's poverty, or his versatility;[17] but the fact remains that he
+had a hand in the production of about twenty. Of these, the only one
+which certainly survives is _The first part of the true and honorable
+historie, of the life of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham,_ &c.
+It is practically impossible to distinguish Drayton's share in this
+curious play, and it does not, therefore, materially assist the
+elucidation of the question whether he had any dramatic feeling or
+skill. It can be safely affirmed that the dramatic instinct was nor
+uppermost in his mind; he was a Seneca rather than a Euripides: but to
+deny him all dramatic idea, as does Dr. Whitaker, is too severe. There
+is decided, if slender, dramatic skill and feeling in certain of the
+_Nymphals_. Drayton's persons are usually, it must be said, rather
+figures in a tableau, or series of tableaux; but in the second and
+seventh _Nymphals_, and occasionally in the tenth, there is real
+dramatic movement. Closely connected with this question is the
+consideration of humour, which is wrongly denied to Drayton. Humour is
+observable first, perhaps, in the _Owle_ (1604); then in the _Ode to his
+Rival_ (1619); and later in the _Nymphidia_, _Shepheards Sirena_, and
+_Muses Elyzium_. The second _Nymphal_ shows us the quiet laughter, the
+humorous twinkle, with which Drayton writes at times. The subject is an
+[Greek: agôn] or contest between two shepherds for the affections of a
+nymph called Lirope: Lalus is a vale-bred swain, of refined and elegant
+manners, skilled, nevertheless, in all manly sports and exercises;
+Cleon, no less a master in physical prowess, was nurtured by a hind in
+the mountains; the contrast between their manners is admirably
+sustained: Cleon is rough, inclined to be rude and scoffing, totally
+without tact, even where his mistress is concerned. Lalus remembers her
+upbringing and her tastes; he makes no unnecessary or ostentatious
+display of wealth; his gifts are simple and charming, while Cleon's are
+so grotesquely unsuited to a swain, that it is tempting to suppose that
+Drayton was quietly satirizing Marlowe's _Passionate Shepherd_. Lirope
+listens gravely to the swains in turn, and makes demure but provoking
+answers, raising each to the height of hope, and then casting them both
+down into the depths of despair; finally she refuses both, yet without
+altogether killing hope. Her first answer is a good specimen of her
+banter and of Drayton's humour.[18]
+
+On the accession of James I, Drayton hastened to greet the King with a
+somewhat laboured song _To the Maiestie of King James_; but this poem
+was apparently considered to be premature: he cried _Vivat Rex_, without
+having said, _Mortua est eheu Regina_, and accordingly he suffered the
+penalty of his 'forward pen',[19] and was severely neglected by King and
+Court. Throughout James's reign a darker and more satirical mood
+possesses Drayton, intruding at times even into his strenuous
+recreation-ground, the _Polyolbion_, and manifesting itself more
+directly in his satires, the _Owle_ (1604), the _Moon-Calfe_ (1627), the
+_Man in the Moone_ (1606), and his verse-letters and elegies; while his
+disappointment with the times, the country, and the King, flashes out
+occasionally even in the Odes, and is heard in his last publication, the
+_Muses Elizium_ (1630). To counterbalance the disappointment in his
+hopes from the King, Drayton found a new and life-long friend in Walter
+Aston, of Tixall, in Staffordshire; this gentleman was created Knight of
+the Bath by James, and made Drayton one of his esquires. By Aston's
+'continual bounty' the poet was able to devote himself almost entirely
+to more congenial literary work; for, while Meres speaks of the
+_Polyolbion_ in 1598,[20] and we may easily see that Drayton had the
+idea of that work at least as early as 1594,[21] yet he cannot have been
+able to give much time to it till now. Nevertheless, the 'declining and
+corrupt times' worked on Drayton's mind and grieved and darkened his
+soul, for we must remember that he was perfectly prosperous then and was
+not therefore incited to satire by bodily want or distress.
+
+In 1604 he published the _Owle_, a mild satire, under the form of a
+moral fable of government, reminding the reader a little of the
+_Parlement of Foules_. _The Man in the Moone_ (1606) is partly a
+recension of _Endimion and Phoebe_, but is a heterogeneous mass of
+weakly satire, of no particular merit. The _Moon-Calfe_ (1627) is
+Drayton's most savage and misanthropic excursion into the region of
+Satire; in which, though occasionally nobly ironic, he is more usually
+coarse and blustering, in the style of Marston.[22] In 1605 Drayton
+brought out his first 'collected poems', from which the _Eclogues_ and
+the _Owle_ are omitted; and in 1606 he published his _Poemes Lyrick and
+Pastorall_, _Odes_, _Eglogs_, _The Man in the Moone_. Of these the
+_Eglogs_ are a recension of the _Shepherd's Garland_ of 1593: we have
+already spoken of _The Man in the Moone_. The _Odes_ are by far the most
+important and striking feature of the book. In the preface, Drayton
+professes to be following Pindar, Anacreon, and Horace, though, as he
+modestly implies, at a great distance. Under the title of _Odes_ he
+includes a variety of subjects, and a variety of metres; ranging from an
+_Ode to his Harp_ or _to his Criticks_, to a _Ballad of Agincourt_, or a
+poem on the Rose compared with his Mistress. In the edition of 1619
+appeared several more Odes, including some of the best; while many of
+the others underwent careful revision, notably the _Ballad_. 'Sing wee
+the Rose,' perhaps because of its unintelligibility, and the Ode to his
+friend John Savage, perhaps because too closely imitated from Horace,
+were omitted. Drayton was not the first to use the term _Ode_ for a
+lyrical poem, in English: Soothern in 1584, and Daniel in 1592 had
+preceded him; but he was the first to give the name popularity in
+England, and to lift the kind as Ronsard had lifted it in France; and
+till the time of Cowper no other English poet showed mastery of the
+short, staccato measure of the Anacreontic as distinct from the Pindaric
+Ode. In the _Odes_ Drayton shows to the fullest extent his metrical
+versatility: he touches the Skeltonic metre, the long ten-syllabled line
+of the _Sacrifice to Apollo_; and ascends from the smooth and melodious
+rhythms of the _New Year_ through the inspiring harp-tones of the
+_Virginian Voyage_ to the clangour and swing of the _Ballad of
+Agincourt_. His grammar is possibly more distorted here than anywhere,
+but, as Mr. Elton says, 'these are the obstacles of any poet who uses
+measures of four or six syllables.' His tone throughout is rather that
+of the harp, as played, perhaps, in Polesworth Hall, than that of any
+other instrument; but in 1619 Drayton has taken to him the lute of Carew
+and his compeers. In 1619 the style is lighter, the fancy gayer, more
+exquisite, more recondite. Most of his few metaphysical conceits are to
+be found in these later Odes, as in the _Heart_, the _Valentine_, and
+the _Crier_. In the comparison of the two editions the nobler, if more
+strained, tone of the earlier is obvious; it is still Elizabethan, in
+its nobility of ideal and purpose, in its enthusiasm, in its belief and
+confidence in England and her men; and this even though we catch a
+glimpse of the Jacobean woe in the _Ode to John Savage_: the 1619 Odes
+are of a different world; their spirit is lighter, more insouciant in
+appearance, though perhaps studiedly so; the rhythms are more fantastic,
+with less of strength and firmness, though with more of grace and
+superficial beauty; even the very textual alterations, while usually
+increasing the grace and the music of the lines, remind the reader that
+something of the old spontaneity and freshness is gone.
+
+In 1607 and 1609, Drayton published two editions of the last and weakest
+of his mediaeval poems--the _Legend of Great Cromwell_; and for the next
+few years he produced nothing new, only attending to the publication of
+certain reprints and new editions. During this time, however, he was
+working steadily at the _Polyolbion_, helped by the patronage of Aston
+and of Prince Henry. In 1612-13, Drayton burst upon an indifferent world
+with the first part of the great poem, containing eighteen songs; the
+title-page will give the best idea of the contents and plan of the book:
+'Poly-Olbion or a Chorographicall Description of the Tracts, Riuers,
+Mountaines, Forests, and other Parts of this renowned Isle of Great
+Britaine, With intermixture of the most Remarquable Stories,
+Antiquities, Wonders, Rarityes, Pleasures, and Commodities of the same:
+Digested in a Poem by Michael Drayton, Esq. With a Table added, for
+direction to those occurrences of Story and Antiquities, whereunto the
+Course of the Volume easily leades not.' &c. On this work Drayton had
+been engaged for nearly the whole of his poetical career. The learning
+and research displayed in the poem are extraordinary, almost equalling
+the erudition of Selden in his Annotations to each Song. The first part
+was, for various reasons, a drug in the market, and Drayton found great
+difficulty in securing a publisher for the second part. But during the
+years from 1613 to 1622, he became acquainted with Drummond of
+Hawthornden through a common friend, Sir William Alexander of Menstry,
+afterwards Earl of Stirling. In 1618, Drayton starts a correspondence;
+and towards the end of the year mentions that he is corresponding also
+with Andro Hart, bookseller, of Edinburgh. The subject of his letter was
+probably the publication of the Second Part; which Drayton alludes to in
+a letter of 1619 thus: 'I have done twelve books more, that is from the
+eighteenth book, which was Kent, if you note it; all the East part and
+North to the river Tweed; but it lies by me; for the booksellers and I
+are in terms; they are a company of base knaves, whom I both scorn and
+kick at.' Finally, in 1622, Drayton got Marriott, Grismand, and Dewe, of
+London, to take the work, and it was published with a dedication to
+Prince Charles, who, after his brother's death, had given Drayton
+patronage. Drayton's preface to the Second Part is well worth quoting:
+
+'_To any that will read it._ When I first undertook this Poem, or, as
+some very skilful in this kind have pleased to term it, this Herculean
+labour, I was by some virtuous friends persuaded, that I should receive
+much comfort and encouragement therein; and for these reasons; First,
+that it was a new, clear, way, never before gone by any; then, that it
+contained all the Delicacies, Delights, and Rarities of this renowned
+Isle, interwoven with the Histories of the Britons, Saxons, Normans, and
+the later English: And further that there is scarcely any of the
+Nobility or Gentry of this land, but that he is in some way or other by
+his Blood interested therein. But it hath fallen out otherwise; for
+instead of that comfort, which my noble friends (from the freedom of
+their spirits) proposed as my due, I have met with barbarous ignorance,
+and base detraction; such a cloud hath the Devil drawn over the world's
+judgment, whose opinion is in few years fallen so far below all
+ballatry, that the lethargy is incurable: nay, some of the Stationers,
+that had the selling of the First Part of this Poem, because it went not
+so fast away in the sale, as some of their beastly and abominable trash,
+(a shame both to our language and nation) have either despitefully left
+out, or at least carelessly neglected the Epistles to the Readers, and
+so have cozened the buyers with unperfected books; which these that have
+undertaken the Second Part, have been forced to amend in the First, for
+the small number that are yet remaining in their hands. And some of our
+outlandish, unnatural, English, (I know not how otherwise to express
+them) stick not to say that there is nothing in this Island worth
+studying for, and take a great pride to be ignorant in any thing
+thereof; for these, since they delight in their folly, I wish it may be
+hereditary from them to their posterity, that their children may be
+begg'd for fools to the fifth generation, until it may be beyond the
+memory of man to know that there was ever other of their families:
+neither can this deter me from going on with Scotland, if means and time
+do not hinder me, to perform as much as I have promised in my First
+Song:
+
+    Till through the sleepy main, to _Thuly_ I have gone,
+    And seen the Frozen Isles, the cold _Deucalidon_,
+    Amongst whose iron Rocks, grim _Saturn_ yet remains
+    Bound in those gloomy caves with adamantine chains.
+
+And as for those cattle whereof I spake before, _Odi profanum vulgus, et
+arceo_, of which I account them, be they never so great, and so I leave
+them. To my friends, and the lovers of my labours, I wish all happiness.
+_Michael Drayton._'
+
+The _Polyolbion_ as a whole is easy and pleasant to read; and though in
+some parts it savours too much of a mere catalogue, yet it has many
+things truly poetical. The best books are perhaps the xiij, xiv, and xv,
+where he is on his own ground, and therefore naturally at his best. It
+is interesting to notice how much attention and space he devotes to
+Wales. He describes not only the 'wonders' but also the fauna and flora
+of each district; and of the two it would seem that the flowers
+interested him more. Though he was a keen observer of country sights and
+sounds (a fact sufficiently attested by the _Nymphidia_ and the
+_Nymphals_), it is evident that his interest in most things except
+flowers was rather momentary or conventional than continuous and
+heart-felt; but of the flowers he loves to talk, whether he weaves us a
+garland for the Thame's wedding, or gives us the contents of a maund of
+simples; and his love, if somewhat homely and unimaginative, is apparent
+enough. But the main inspiration, as it is the main theme, of the
+_Polyolbion_ is the glory and might and wealth, past, present, and
+future, of England, her possessions and her folk. Through all this
+glory, however, we catch the tone of Elizabethan sorrow over the 'Ruines
+of Time'; grief that all these mighty men and their works will perish
+and be forgotten, unless the poet makes them live for ever on the lips
+of men. Drayton's own voluminousness has defeated his purpose, and sunk
+his poem by its own bulk. Though it is difficult to go so far as Mr.
+Bullen, and say that the only thing better than a stroll in the
+_Polyolbion_ is one in a Sussex lane, it is still harder to agree with
+Canon Beeching, that 'there are few beauties on the road', the beauties
+are many, though of a quietly rural type, and the road, if long and
+winding, is of good surface, while its cranks constitute much of its
+charm. It is doubtless, from the outside, an appalling poem in these
+days of epitomes and monographs, but it certainly deserves to be rescued
+from oblivion and read.
+
+In 1618 Drayton contributed two _Elegies_ to Henry FitzGeoffrey's
+_Satyrs and Epigrames_. These were on the Lady Penelope Clifton, and on
+'the death of the three sonnes of the Lord Sheffield, drowned neere
+where Trent falleth into Humber'. Neither is remarkable save for
+far-fetched conceits; they were reprinted in 1610, and again, with many
+others, in the volume of 1627. In 1619 Drayton issued a folio collected
+edition of his works, and reprinted it in 1620. In 1627 followed a folio
+of wholly fresh matter, including the _Battaile of Agincourt_; _the
+Miseries of Queene Margarite_, _Nimphidia_, _Quest of Cinthia_,
+_Shepheards Sirena_, _Moone-Calfe_, and _Elegies upon sundry occasions_.
+The _Battaile of Agincourt_ is a somewhat otiose expansion, with purple
+patches, of the _Ballad_; it is, nevertheless, Drayton's best lengthy
+piece on a historical theme. Of the _Miseries of Queene Margarite_ and
+of the _Moone-Calfe_ we have already spoken. The most notable piece in
+the book is the _Nimphidia_. This poem of the Court of Fairy has
+'invention, grace, and humour', as Canon Beeching has said. It would be
+interesting to know exactly when it was composed and committed to paper,
+for it is thought that the three fairy poems in Herrick's _Hesperides_
+were written about 1626. In any case, Drayton's poem touches very
+little, and chiefly in the beginning, on the subject of any one of
+Herrick's three pieces. The style, execution, and impression left on the
+reader are quite different; even as they are totally unlike those of the
+_Midsummer Night's Dream_. Herrick's pieces are extraordinary
+combinations of the idea of 'King of Shadows', with a reality
+fantastically sober: the poems are steeped in moonlight. In Drayton all
+is clear day, or the most unromantic of nights; though everything is
+charming, there is no attempt at idealization, little of the higher
+faculty of imagination; but great realism, and much play of fancy.
+Herrick's verses were written by Cobweb and Moth together, Drayton's by
+Puck. Granting, however, the initial deficiency in subtlety of charm,
+the whole poem is inimitably graceful and piquant. The gay humour, the
+demure horror of the witchcraft, the terrible seriousness of the battle,
+wonderfully realize the mock-heroic gigantesque; and while there is not
+the minute accuracy of Gulliver in Lilliput, Drayton did not write for a
+sceptical or too-prying audience; quite half his readers believed more
+or less in fairies. In the metre of the poem Drayton again echoes that
+of the older romances, as he did in _Dowsabel_. In the _Quest of
+Cinthia_, while ostensibly we come to the real world of mortals, we are
+really in a non-existent land of pastoral convention, in the most
+pseudo-Arcadian atmosphere in which Drayton ever worked. The metre and
+the language are, however, charmingly managed. _The Shepheards Sirena_
+is a poem, apparently, 'where more is meant than meets the ear,' as so
+often in pastoral poetry[23]; it is difficult to see exactly what is
+meant; but the Jacobean strain of doubt and fear is there, and the poem
+would seem to have been written some time earlier than 1627. The
+_Elegies_ comprise a great variety of styles and themes; some are really
+threnodies, some verse-letters, some laments over the evil times, and
+one a summary of Drayton's literary opinions. He employs the couplet in
+his _Elegies_ with a masterly hand, often with a deliberately rugged
+effect, as in his broader Marstonic satire addressed to William Browne;
+while the line of greater smoothness but equal strength is to be seen in
+the letters to Sandys and Jeffreys. He is fantastic and conceited in
+most of the threnodies; but, as is natural, that on his old friend, Sir
+Henry Rainsford, is least artificial and fullest of true feeling. The
+epistle to _Henery Reynolds. Of Poets and Poesie_ shows Drayton as a
+sane and sagacious critic, ready to see the good, but keen to discern
+the weakness also; perhaps the clearest evidence of his critical skill
+is the way in which nearly all of his judgements on his contemporaries
+coincide with the received modern opinions.
+
+In his later years Drayton enjoyed the patronage of the third Earl and
+Countess of Dorset; and in _1630_ he published his last volume, the
+_Muses Elizium_, of which he dedicated the pastoral part to the Earl,
+and the three divine poems at the end to the Countess. The _Muses
+Elizium_ proper consists of Ten Pastorals or Nymphals, prefaced by a
+_Description of Elizium_. The three divine poems have been mentioned
+before, and were _Noah's Floud_, _Moses his Birth and Miracles_, and
+_David and Goliah_. The _Nymphals_ are the crown and summary of much of
+the best in Drayton's work. Here he departed from the conventional type
+of pastoral, even more than in the _Shepherd's Garland_; but to say that
+he sang of English rustic life would hardly be true: the sixth
+_Nymphal_, allowing for a few pardonable exaggerations by the
+competitors, is almost all English, if we except the names; so is the
+tenth with the same exception; the first and fourth might take place
+anywhere, but are not likely in any country; the second is more
+conventional; the fifth is almost, but not quite, English; the third,
+seventh, and ninth are avowedly classical in theme; while the eighth is
+a more delicate and subtle fairy poem than the _Nymphidia_. The fourth
+and tenth _Nymphals_ are also touched with the sadder, almost satiric
+vein; the former inveighing against the English imitation of foreigners
+and love of extravagance in dress; while the tenth complains of the
+improvident and wasteful felling of trees in the English forests. This
+last _Nymphal_, though designedly an epilogue, is probably rather a
+warning than a despairing lament, even though we conceive the old satyr
+to be Drayton himself. As a whole the _Nymphals_ show Drayton at his
+happiest and lightest in style and metre; at his moments of greatest
+serenity and even gaiety; an atmosphere of sunshine seems to envelope
+them all, though the sun sink behind a cloud in the last. His music now
+is that of a rippling stream, whereas in his earlier days he spoke
+weightier and more sonorous words, with a mouth of gold.[24]
+
+To estimate the poetical faculty of Drayton is a somewhat perplexing
+task; for, while rarely subtle, or rising to empyrean heights, he wrote
+in such varied styles, on such various themes, that the task, at first,
+seems that of criticizing many poets, not one. But through all his work
+runs the same eminently English spirit, the same honesty and clearness
+of idea, the same stolidity of purpose, and not infrequently of
+execution also; the same enthusiasm characterizes all his earlier, and
+much of his later work; the enthusiasm especially characteristic of
+Elizabethan England, and shown by Drayton in his passion for England and
+the English, in his triumphant joy in their splendid past, and his
+certainty of their future glory. As a poet, he lacked imagination and
+fine fury; he supplied their place by the airiest and clearest of
+fancies, by the strenuous labour of a great brain illumined by the
+steady flame of love for his country and for his lady. Mr. Courthope has
+said that he lacked loftiness and resolution of artistic purpose;
+without these, we ask, how could a man, not lavishly dowered with poetry
+in his soul, have achieved so much of it? It was his very fixity and
+loftiness of purpose, his English stubbornness and doggedness of
+resolution that enabled him to surmount so many obstacles of style and
+metre, of subject and thought. His two purposes, of glorifying his
+mistress and his friends, and of sounding England's glories past and
+future, while insisting on the dangers of a present decadence, never
+flagged or failed. All his poetry up to 1627 has this object directly or
+secondarily; and much after this date. Of the more abstract and
+universal aspects of his art he had not much conception; but he caught
+eagerly at the fashionable belief in the eternizing power of poetry; and
+had it not been that, where his patriotism was uppermost, he was
+deficient in humour and sense of proportion, he would have succeeded
+better: as it is, his more directly patriotic pieces are usually the
+dullest or longest of his works. He requires, like all other poets, the
+impulse of an absolutely personal and individual feeling, a moment of
+more intimate sympathy, to rouse him to his heights of song. Thus the
+_Ballad of Agincourt_ is on the very theme of all patriotic themes that
+most attracted him; Virginian and other Voyages lay very close to his
+heart; and in certain sonnets to his lady lies his only imperishable
+work. Of sheer melody and power of song he had little, apart from his
+themes: he could not have sat down and written a few lark's or
+nightingale's notes about nothing as some of his contemporaries were
+able to do: he required the stimulus of a subject, and if he were really
+moved thereby he beat the music out. Only in one or two of the later
+Odes, and in the volumes of 1627 and 1630, does his music ever seem to
+flow from him naturally. Akin to this quality of broad and extensive
+workmanship, to this faculty of taking a subject and when writing, with
+all thought concentrated on it, rather than on the method of writing
+about it, is his strange lack of what are usually called 'quotations'.
+For this is not only due to the fact that he is little known; there are,
+besides, so few detached remarks or aphorisms that are separately
+quotable; so few examples of that _curiosa felicitas_ of diction: lines
+like these,
+
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings....
+
+are rare enough. Drayton, in fact, comes as near controverting the
+statement _Poeta nascitur, non fit_, as any one in English literature:
+by diligent toil and earnest desire he won a place for himself in the
+second rank of English poets: through love he once set foot in the
+circle of the mightiest. Sincere he was always, simple often, sensuous
+rarely. His great industry, his careful study, and his great receptivity
+are shown in the unusual spectacle of a man who has sung well in the
+language of his youth, suddenly learning, in his age, the tongue spoken
+by the younger generation, and reproducing it with individuality and
+sureness of touch. It is in rhetoric, splendid or rugged, in argument,
+in plain statement or description, in the outline sketch of a picture,
+that Drayton excels; magic of atmosphere and colouring are rarely
+present. Stolidity is, perhaps, his besetting sin; yet it is the sign of
+a slow, not a dull, intellect; an intellect, like his heart, which never
+let slip what it had once taken to itself.
+
+As a man Drayton would seem to have been an excellent type of the
+sturdy, clear-headed, but yet romantic and enthusiastic Englishman;
+gifted with much natural ability, sedulously increased by study; quietly
+humorous, self-restrained; and if temporarily soured by disappointment
+and the disjointed times, yet emerging at last into a greater serenity,
+a more unadulterated gaiety than had ever before characterized him. It
+is possible, but from his clear and sane balance of mind improbable,
+that many of his light later poems are due to deliberate self-blinding
+and self-deception, a walking in enchanted lands of the mind.
+
+Of Drayton's three known portraits the earliest shows him at the age of
+thirty-six, and is now in the National Portrait Gallery. A look of
+quiet, speculative melancholy seems to pervade it; there is, as yet, no
+moroseness, no evidence of severe conflict with the world, no shadow of
+stress or of doubt. The second and best-known portrait shows us Drayton
+at the age of fifty, and was engraved by Hole, as a frontispiece to the
+poems of 1619. Here a notable change has come over the face; the mouth
+is hardened, and depressed at the corners through disappointment and
+disillusionment; the eyes are full of a pathos increased by the puzzled
+and perturbed uplift of the brows. Yet a stubbornness and tenacity of
+purpose invests the features and reminds us that Drayton is of the old
+and sound Elizabethan stock, 'on evil days though fallen.' Let it be
+remembered, that he was in 1613, when the portrait was taken, in more or
+less prosperous circumstances; it was the sad degeneracy, the meanness
+and feebleness of the generation around him, that chiefly depressed and
+embittered him. The final portrait, now in the Dulwich Gallery,
+represents the poet as a man of sixty-five; and is quite in keeping with
+the sunnier and calmer tone of his later poetry. It is the face of one
+who has not emerged unscathed from the world's conflict, but has
+attained to a certain calm, a measure of tranquillity, a portion of
+content, who has learnt the lesson that there is a soul of goodness in
+things evil. The Hole portrait shows him with long hair, small 'goatee'
+beard, and aquiline nose drawn up at the nostrils: while the National
+portrait shows a type of nose and beard intermediate between the Hole
+and the Dulwich pictures: the general contour of the face, though the
+forehead is broad enough, is long and oval. Drayton seems to have been
+tall and thin, and to have been very susceptible of cold, and therefore
+to have hated Winter and the North.[25] He is said to have shared in the
+supper which caused Shakespeare's death; but his own verses[26] breathe
+the spirit of Milton's sonnet to Cyriack Skinner, rather than that of a
+devotee of Bacchus.
+
+He died in 1631, possibly on December 23, and was buried under the North
+wall of Westminster Abbey. Meres's[27] opinion of his character during
+his early life is as follows: 'As Aulus Persius Flaccus is reported
+among al writers to be of an honest life and vpright conuersation: so
+Michael Drayton, _quem totics honoris et amoris causa nomino_, among
+schollers, souldiours, Poets, and all sorts of people is helde for a man
+of uertuous disposition, honest conversation, and well gouerned cariage;
+which is almost miraculous among good wits in these declining and
+corrupt times, when there is nothing but rogery in villanous man, and
+when cheating and craftines is counted the cleanest wit, and soundest
+wisedome.'[28] Fuller also, in a similar strain, says, 'He was a pious
+poet, his conscience having the command of his fancy, very temperate in
+his life, slow of speech, and inoffensive in company.'
+
+In conclusion I have to thank Mr. H.M. Sanders, of Pembroke College,
+Oxford, for help and advice, and Professor Raleigh and Mr. R.W. Chapman
+for help and criticism while the volume was in the press. Above all, I
+am at every turn indebted to Professor Elton's invaluable _Michael
+Drayton_,[29] without which the work of any student of Drayton would be
+rendered, if not impossible, at least infinitely harder.
+
+    CYRIL BRETT.
+ALTON, STAFFORDSHIRE.
+
+[Footnote 1: Cf. Elegy viij, _To Henery Reynolds, Esquire_, p. 108.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Sir Aston Cokayne, in 1658, says that he went to Oxford,
+while Fleay asserts, without authority, that his university was probably
+Cambridge.]
+
+[Footnote 3: Cf. the motto of _Ideas Mirrour_, the allusions to
+_Ariosto_ in the _Nymphidia_, p. 129; and above all, the _Heroical
+Epistles_; Dedic. of _Ep._ of _D._ of _Suffolk to Q. Margaret_: 'Sweet
+is the _French_ Tongue, more sweet the _Italian_, but most sweet are
+they both, if spoken by your admired self.' Cf. _Surrey to Geraldine_,
+ll. 5 sqq., with Drayton's note.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Cf. Sonnet xij (ed. 1602), p. 42, ''Tis nine years now
+since first I lost my wit.' (This sonnet may, of course, occur in the
+supposed 1600 ed., which would fix an earlier date for Drayton's
+beginning of love.)]
+
+[Footnote 5: Elegy ix, p. 113.]
+
+[Footnote 6: Cf. Morley's ed. of _Barons' Wars_, &c. (1887), p. 6.]
+
+[Footnote 7: Cf. _E.H. Ep._ 'Mat. to K.J.,' 100 sqq., &c.]
+
+[Footnote 8: Professor Courthope and others. There was some excuse for
+blunders before the publication of Professor Elton's book; and they have
+been made easier by an unfortunate misprint. Professor Courthope twice
+misprints the first line of the Love-Parting Sonnet, as 'Since there's
+no help, come let us _rise_ and part', and, so printed, the line
+supports better the theory that the poem refers to a patroness and not
+to a mistress. Cf. Courthope, _Hist. Eng. Poetry_, iii. pp. 40 and 43.]
+
+[Footnote 9: Cf. _E. and Phoebe_, sub fin.; _Shep. Sir._ 145-8; _Ep. Hy.
+Reyn._ 79 sqq.]
+
+[Footnote 10: Those reprints which were really new _editions_ are in
+italics.]
+
+[Footnote 11: 1594 ed., Pref. Son. and nos. 12, 18, 28; 1599 ed., nos.
+3, 31, 46; 1602 ed., 12, 27, 31; and 1603 ed., 47.]
+
+[Footnote 12: Meres thought otherwise. Cf. _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'As
+Accius, M. Atilius, and Milithus were called _Tragediographi_, because
+they writ tragedies: so may wee truly terme Michael Drayton
+_Tragaediographus_ for his passionate penning the downfals of valiant
+Robert of Normandy, chast Matilda, and great Gaueston.' Cf. Barnefield,
+_Poems: in diuers humors_ (ed. Arber, p. 119), 'And Drayton, whose
+wel-written Tragedies, | And Sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. |
+Thy learned name is equall with the rest; | Whose stately Numbers are so
+well addrest.']
+
+[Footnote 13: Cf. Meres, _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'Michael Drayton doth
+imitate Ouid in his _England's Heroical Epistles_.']
+
+[Footnote 14: Cf. id., _ibid._, 'As Lucan hath mournefully depainted the
+ciuil wars of Pompey and Cæsar: so hath Daniel the ciuill wars of Yorke
+and Lancaster, and Drayton the civill wars of Edward the second and the
+Barons.']
+
+[Footnote 15: Cf. Elegy viij. 126-8.]
+
+[Footnote 16: Cf. Morley's ed., _Barons' Wars_, &c., 1887, pp. 6-7.]
+
+[Footnote 17: Cf. Elron, pp. 83-93, and Whitaker, _M. Drayton as a
+Dramatist_ (Public. Mod. Lang. Assoc. of America, vol. xviij. 3).]
+
+[Footnote 18: Cf. _Nl._ ij. 127 sqq., p. 172.]
+
+[Footnote 19: Cf. Elegy ij. 20.]
+
+[Footnote 20: Cf. _Palladis Tamia_: 'Michael Drayton is now in penning,
+in English verse, a Poem called _Poly-olbion_, Geographicall &
+Hydrographicall of all the forests, woods, mountaines, fountaines,
+riuers, lakes, flouds, bathes, & springs that be in England.']
+
+[Footnote 21: Cf. _Amours_ (1594), xx and xxiv.]
+
+[Footnote 22: Cf. Sonnet vj (1619 edition); which is a dignified summary
+of much that he says more coarsely in the _Moone-Calfe_.]
+
+[Footnote 23: Cf. Morley's ed. _Barons' Wars, &c._, p. 8.]
+
+[Footnote 24: Charles FitzGeoffrey, _Drake_ (1596), 'golden-mouthed
+Drayton musical.' Guilpin, _Skialetheia_ (1598), 'Drayton's condemned of
+some for imitation, But others say, 'tis the best poet's fashion ...
+Drayton's justly surnam'd golden-mouth'd.' Meres, _Palladis Tamia_
+(1598),' In Charles Fitz-Jefferies _Drake_ Drayton is termed
+"golden-mouth'd" for the purity and pretiousnesse of his stile and
+phrase.']
+
+[Footnote 25: Cf. _E. H. E._, pp. 90, 99 (ed. 1737); Elegy i; and _Ode
+written in the Peak_.]
+
+[Footnote 26: Elegy viij, ad init.]
+
+[Footnote 27: _Palladis Tamia_ (1598).]
+
+[Footnote 28: Cf. _Returne from Parnassus_, i. 2 (1600) ed. Arb. p. 11.]
+
+[Footnote 29: _Michael Drayton. A Critical Study_. Oliver Elton, M.A.
+London: A. Constable & Co., 1905.]
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS
+
+[from the Edition of 1594]
+
+To the deere Chyld of the Muses, and
+ _his euer kind_ Mecænas, _Ma._ Anthony
+          Cooke, Esquire
+
+
+    Vovchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rymes,
+    Which long (dear friend) haue slept in sable night,
+    And, come abroad now in these glorious tymes,
+    Can hardly brook the purenes of the light.
+    But still you see their desteny is such,
+    That in the world theyr fortune they must try,
+    Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch,
+    Wearing your name, theyr gracious liuery.
+    Yet these mine owne: I wrong not other men,
+    Nor trafique further then thys happy Clyme,
+    Nor filch from _Portes_, nor from _Petrarchs_ pen,
+    A fault too common in this latter time.
+      Diuine Syr Phillip, I auouch thy writ,
+      I am no Pickpurse of anothers wit.
+                          Yours deuoted,
+                              M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Amour 1
+
+    Reade heere (sweet Mayd) the story of my wo,
+    The drery abstracts of my endles cares,
+    With my liues sorow enterlyned so;
+    Smok'd with my sighes, and blotted with my teares:
+    The sad memorials of my miseries,
+    Pend in the griefe of myne afflicted ghost;
+    My liues complaint in doleful Elegies,
+    With so pure loue as tyme could neuer boast.
+    Receaue the incense which I offer heere,
+    By my strong fayth ascending to thy fame,
+    My zeale, my hope, my vowes, my praise, my prayer,
+    My soules oblation to thy sacred name:
+      Which name my Muse to highest heauen shal raise
+      By chast desire, true loue, and vertues praise.
+
+
+Amour 2
+
+    My fayre, if thou wilt register my loue,
+    More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise;
+    Preserue my teares, and thou thy selfe shall proue
+    A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes.
+    Note but my sighes, and thine eyes shal behold
+    The Sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke;
+    And if by thee, my prayers may be enrold,
+    They heauen and earth to pitty shall prouoke.
+    Looke thou into my breast, and thou shall see
+    Chaste holy vowes for my soules sacrifice:
+    That soule (sweet Maide) which so hath honoured thee,
+    Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes;
+      Those eyes to my heart shining euer bright,
+      When darknes hath obscur'd each other light.
+
+
+Amour 3
+
+    My thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue,
+    And, for their vertues I desiered to know,
+    Vpon the nest I set them forth, to proue
+    If they were of the Eagles kinde or no:
+    But they no sooner saw my Sunne appeare,
+    But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood;
+    Which proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre,
+    And that they came of this rare kinglie brood.
+    But now their plumes, full sumd with sweet desire,
+    To shew their kinde began to clime the skies:
+    Doe what I could my Eaglets would aspire,
+    Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes.
+      And thus (my faire) my thoughts away be flowne,
+      And from my breast into thine eyes be gone.
+
+
+Amour 4
+
+    My faire, had I not erst adorned my Lute
+    With those sweet strings stolne from thy golden hayre,
+    Vnto the world had all my ioyes been mute,
+    Nor had I learn'd to descant on my faire.
+    Had not mine eye seene thy Celestiall eye,
+    Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name,
+    My soule had ne'er felt thy Diuinitie,
+    Nor my Muse been the trumpet of thy fame.
+    But thy diuine perfections, by their skill,
+    This miracle on my poore Muse haue tried,
+    And, by inspiring, glorifide my quill,
+    And in my verse thy selfe art deified:
+      Thus from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued,
+      That by thy fame all fame shall be suruiued.
+
+
+Amour 5
+
+    Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected,
+    The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite;
+    No Virgin once attending on that light,
+    Nor yet those heauenly secrets once respected;
+    Till thou alone, to pay the heauens their dutie
+    Within the Temple of thy sacred name,
+    With thine eyes kindling that Celestiall flame,
+    By those reflecting Sun-beames of thy beautie.
+    Here Chastity that Vestall most diuine,
+    Attends that Lampe with eye which neuer sleepeth;
+    The volumes of Religions lawes shee keepeth,
+    Making thy breast that sacred reliques shryne,
+      Where blessed Angels, singing day and night,
+      Praise him which made that fire, which lends that light.
+
+
+Amour 6
+
+    In one whole world is but one Phoenix found,
+    A Phoenix thou, this Phoenix then alone:
+    By thy rare plume thy kind is easly knowne,
+    With heauenly colours dide, with natures wonder cround.
+    Heape thine own vertues, seasoned by their sunne,
+    On heauenly top of thy diuine desire;
+    Then with thy beautie set the same on fire,
+    So by thy death thy life shall be begunne.
+    Thy selfe, thus burned in this sacred flame,
+    With thine owne sweetnes al the heauens perfuming,
+    And stil increasing as thou art consuming,
+    Shalt spring againe from th' ashes of thy fame;
+      And mounting vp shall to the heauens ascend:
+      So maist thou liue, past world, past fame, past end.
+
+
+Amour 7
+
+    Stay, stay, sweet Time; behold, or ere thou passe
+    From world to world, thou long hast sought to see,
+    That wonder now wherein all wonders be,
+    Where heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse.
+    Nay, looke thee, Time, in this Celesteall glasse,
+    And thy youth past in this faire mirror see:
+    Behold worlds Beautie in her infancie,
+    What shee was then, and thou, or ere shee was.
+    Now passe on, Time: to after-worlds tell this,
+    Tell truelie, Time, what in thy time hath beene,
+    That they may tel more worlds what Time hath seene,
+    And heauen may ioy to think on past worlds blisse.
+      Heere make a Period, Time, and saie for mee,
+      She was the like that neuer was, nor neuer more shalbe.
+
+
+Amour 8
+
+    Vnto the World, to Learning, and to Heauen,
+    Three nines there are, to euerie one a nine;
+    One number of the earth, the other both diuine,
+    One wonder woman now makes three od numbers euen.
+    Nine orders, first, of Angels be in heauen;
+    Nine Muses doe with learning still frequent:
+    These with the Gods are euer resident.
+    Nine worthy men vnto the world were giuen.
+    My Worthie one to these nine Worthies addeth,
+    And my faire Muse one Muse vnto the nine;
+    And my good Angell, in my soule diuine,
+    With one more order these nine orders gladdeth.
+      My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angell, then,
+      Makes euery one of these three nines a ten.
+
+
+Amour 9
+
+    Beauty sometime, in all her glory crowned,
+    Passing by that cleere fountain of thine eye,
+    Her sun-shine face there chaunsing to espy,
+    Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.
+    And thus, whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed,
+    Who then, yet liuing, deemd she had been dying,
+    And yet in death some hope of life espying,
+    At her owne rare perfections so amazed;
+    Twixt ioy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning,
+    The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining,
+    And shee, in her owne destiny diuining,
+    Threw in herselfe, to saue herselfe by drowning;
+      The Well of Nectar, pau'd with pearle and gold,
+      Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.
+
+
+Amour 10
+
+    Oft taking pen in hand, with words to cast my woes,
+    Beginning to account the sum of all my cares,
+    I well perceiue my griefe innumerable growes,
+    And still in reckonings rise more millions of dispayres.
+    And thus, deuiding of my fatall howres,
+    The payments of my loue I read, and reading crosse,
+    And in substracting set my sweets vnto my sowres;
+    Th' average of my ioyes directs me to my losse.
+    And thus mine eyes, a debtor to thine eye,
+    Who by extortion gaineth all theyr lookes,
+    My hart hath payd such grieuous vsury,
+    That all her wealth lyes in thy Beauties bookes;
+      And all is thine which hath been due to mee,
+      And I a Banckrupt, quite vndone by thee.
+
+
+Amour 11
+
+    Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue,
+    To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell;
+    For I was apt, a scholler like to proue,
+    Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.
+    Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun
+    At my first Lesson in thy sacred name:
+    My consonants the next when I had done,
+    Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.
+    My liquids then were liquid christall teares,
+    My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe;
+    My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires,
+    Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe:
+      My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so,
+      That I can read a story of my woe.
+
+
+Amour 12
+
+    Some Atheist or vile Infidell in loue,
+    When I doe speake of thy diuinitie,
+    May blaspheme thus, and say I flatter thee,
+    And onely write my skill in verse to proue.
+    See myracles, ye vnbeleeuing! see
+    A dumbe-born Muse made to expresse the mind,
+    A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind,
+    One by thy name, the other touching thee.
+    Blind were mine eyes, till they were seene of thine,
+    And mine eares deafe by thy fame healed be;
+    My vices cur'd by vertues sprung from thee,
+    My hopes reuiu'd, which long in graue had lyne:
+      All vncleane thoughts, foule spirits, cast out in mee
+      By thy great power, and by strong fayth in thee.
+
+
+Amour 13
+
+    Cleere _Ankor_, on whose siluer-sanded shore
+    My soule-shrinde Saint, my faire _Idea_, lyes;
+    O blessed Brooke! whose milk-white Swans adore
+    The christall streame refined by her eyes:
+    Where sweet Myrh-breathing _Zephyre_ in the spring
+    Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers;
+    Where Nightingales in _Arden_ sit and sing
+    Amongst those dainty dew-empearled flowers.
+    Say thus, fayre Brooke, when thou shall see thy Queene:
+    Loe! heere thy Shepheard spent his wandring yeeres,
+    And in these shades (deer Nimphe) he oft hath been,
+    And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares.
+      Fayre _Arden_, thou my _Tempe_ art alone,
+      And thou, sweet _Ankor_, art my _Helicon_.
+
+
+Amour 14
+
+    Looking into the glasse of my youths miseries,
+    I see the ugly face of my deformed cares,
+    With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires,
+    That for my mis-spent youth the tears fel from my eyes.
+    Then, in these teares, the mirror of these eyes,
+    Thy fayrest youth and Beautie doe I see
+    Imprinted in my teares by looking still on thee:
+    Thus midst a thousand woes ten thousand joyes arise.
+    Yet in those joyes, the shadowes of my good,
+    In this fayre limned ground as white as snow,
+    Paynted the blackest Image of my woe,
+    With murthering hands imbru'd in mine own blood:
+      And in this Image his darke clowdy eyes,
+      My life, my youth, my loue, I heere Anotamize.
+
+
+Amour 15
+
+    Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror,
+    Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee;
+    And but appoint me for her Tormentor,
+    Then for a Monarch will I honour thee.
+    My hart shall be the prison for my fayre;
+    Ile fetter her in chaines of purest loue,
+    My sighs shall stop the passage of the ayre:
+    This punishment the pittilesse may moue.
+    With teares out of the Channels of mine eyes
+    She'st quench her thirst as duly as they fall:
+    Kinde words vnkindest meate I can deuise,
+    My sweet, my faire, my good, my best of all.
+    Ile binde her then with my torne-tressed haire,
+    And racke her with a thousand holy wishes;
+    Then, on a place prepared for her there,
+    Ile execute her with a thousand kisses.
+      Thus will I crucifie, my cruell shee;
+      Thus Ile plague her which hath so plagued mee.
+
+
+Amour 16
+
+    Vertues _Idea_ in virginitie,
+    By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought:
+    The time is come deliuered she must be,
+    Where first my loue into the world was brought.
+    Vnhappy borne, of all vnhappy day!
+    So luckles was my Babes nativity,
+    _Saturne_ chiefe Lord of the Ascendant lay,
+    The wandring Moone in earths triplicitie.
+    Now, or by chaunce or heauens hie prouidence,
+    His Mother died, and by her Legacie
+    (Fearing the stars presaging influence)
+    Bequeath'd his wardship to my soueraignes eye;
+    Where hunger-staruen, wanting lookes to liue,
+    Still empty gorg'd, with cares consumption pynde,
+    Salt luke-warm teares shee for his drink did giue,
+    And euer-more with sighes he supt and dynde:
+      And thus (poore Orphan) lying in distresse
+      Cryes in his pangs, God helpe the motherlesse.
+
+
+Amour 17
+
+    If euer wonder could report a wonder,
+    Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought,
+    Or euer ioy expresse what perfect ioy hath taught,
+    Then wonder, tongue, then ioy, might wel report a wonder.
+    Could all conceite conclude, which past conceit admireth,
+    Or could mine eye but ayme her obiects past perfection,
+    My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction,
+    And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.
+    Were not Inuention stauld, treading Inuentions maze,
+    Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying;
+    Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze,
+    Whilst Loue (my Phoenix bird) in her owne flame is dying,
+      Inuention and my Muse, perfection and her loue,
+      Should teach the world to know the wonder that I proue.
+
+
+Amour 18
+
+    Some, when in ryme they of their Loues doe tell,
+    With flames and lightning their exordiums paynt:
+    Some inuocate the Gods, some spirits of Hell,
+    And heauen, and earth doe with their woes acquaint.
+    _Elizia_ is too hie a seate for mee:
+    I wyll not come in _Stixe_ or _Phlegiton_;
+    The Muses nice, the Furies cruell be,
+    I lyke not _Limbo_, nor blacke _Acheron_,
+    Spightful _Erinnis_ frights mee with her lookes,
+    My manhood dares not with foule _Ate_ mell:
+    I quake to looke on _Hecats_ charming bookes,
+    I styll feare bugbeares in _Apollos_ cell.
+      I passe not for _Minerua_ nor _Astræa_.
+      But euer call vpon diuine _Idea_.
+
+
+Amour 19
+
+    If those ten Regions, registred by Fame,
+    By theyr ten Sibils haue the world controld,
+    Who prophecied of Christ or ere he came,
+    And of his blessed birth before fore-told;
+    That man-god now, of whom they did diuine,
+    This earth of those sweet Prophets hath bereft,
+    And since the world to iudgement doth declyne,
+    Instead of ten, one Sibil to vs left.
+    Thys pure _Idea_, vertues right Idea,
+    Shee of whom _Merlin_ long tyme did fore-tell,
+    Excelling her of _Delphos_ or _Cumæa_,
+    Whose lyfe doth saue a thousand soules from hell:
+      That life (I meane) which doth Religion teach,
+      And by example true repentance preach.
+
+
+Amour 20
+
+    Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile,
+    I find old Poets hylls and floods admire:
+    One, he doth wonder monster-breeding _Nyle_,
+    Another meruailes Sulphure _Aetnas_ fire.
+    Now broad-brymd _Indus_, then of _Pindus_ height,
+    _Pelion_ and _Ossa_, frosty _Caucase_ old,
+    The Delian _Cynthus_, then _Olympus_ weight,
+    Slow _Arrer_, franticke _Gallus_, _Cydnus_ cold.
+    Some _Ganges_, _Ister_, and of _Tagus_ tell,
+    Some whir-poole _Po_, and slyding _Hypasis_;
+    Some old _Pernassus_ where the Muses dwell,
+    Some _Helycon_, and some faire _Simois_:
+      A, fooles! thinke I, had you _Idea_ seene,
+      Poore Brookes and Banks had no such wonders beene.
+
+
+Amour 21
+
+    Letters and lynes, we see, are soone defaced,
+    Mettles doe waste and fret with cankers rust;
+    The Diamond shall once consume to dust,
+    And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.
+    Paper and yncke can paynt but naked words,
+    To write with blood of force offends the sight,
+    And if with teares, I find them all too light;
+    And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.
+    O, sweetest shadow! how thou seru'st my turne,
+    Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne,
+    Nor whilst the world is neuer shall be done,
+    Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne:
+      That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede,
+      May in his shadow my Loues story reade.
+
+
+Amour 22
+
+    My hart, imprisoned in a hopeless Ile,
+    Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes,
+    The shores beset with thousand secret spyes,
+    Must passe by ayre, or else dye in exile.
+    He framd him wings with feathers of his thought,
+    Which by theyr nature learn'd to mount the skye;
+    And with the same he practised to flye,
+    Till he himself thys Eagles art had taught.
+    Thus soring still, not looking once below,
+    So neere thyne eyes celesteall sunne aspyred,
+    That with the rayes his wafting pyneons fired:
+    Thus was the wanton cause of his owne woe.
+      Downe fell he, in thy Beauties Ocean drenched,
+      Yet there he burnes in fire thats neuer quenched.
+
+
+Amour 23
+
+    Wonder of Heauen, glasse of diuinitie,
+    Rare beautie, Natures joy, perfections Mother,
+    The worke of that vnited Trinitie,
+    Wherein each fayrest part excelleth other!
+    Loues Mithridate, the purest of perfection,
+    Celestiall Image, Load-stone of desire,
+    The soules delight, the sences true direction,
+    Sunne of the world, thou hart reuyuing fire!
+    Why should'st thou place thy Trophies in those eyes,
+    Which scorne the honor that is done to thee,
+    Or make my pen her name immortalize,
+    Who in her pride sdaynes once to look on me?
+      It is thy heauen within her face to dwell,
+      And in thy heauen, there onely, is my hell.
+
+
+Amour 24
+
+    Our floods-Queene, _Thames_, for shyps and Swans is crowned,
+    And stately _Seuerne_ for her shores is praised,
+    The christall _Trent_ for Foords and fishe renowned,
+    And _Auons_ fame to _Albyons_ Cliues is raysed.
+    _Carlegion Chester_ vaunts her holy _Dee_,
+    _Yorke_ many wonders of her _Ouse_ can tell,
+    The _Peake_ her _Doue_, whose bancks so fertill bee,
+    And _Kent_ will say her _Medway_ doth excell.
+    Cotswoold commends her _Isis_ and her _Tame_,
+    Our Northern borders boast of _Tweeds_ faire flood;
+    Our Westerne parts extoll theyr Wilys fame,
+    And old _Legea_ brags of _Danish_ blood:
+      _Ardens_ sweet _Ankor_, let thy glory be
+      That fayre _Idea_ shee doth liue by thee.
+
+
+Amour 25
+
+    The glorious sunne went blushing to his bed,
+    When my soules sunne, from her fayre Cabynet,
+    Her golden beames had now discouered,
+    Lightning the world, eclipsed by his set.
+    Some muz'd to see the earth enuy the ayre,
+    Which from her lyps exhald refined sweet,
+    A world to see, yet how he ioyd to heare
+    The dainty grasse make musicke with her feete.
+    But my most meruaile was when from the skyes,
+    So Comet-like, each starre aduanc'd her lyght,
+    As though the heauen had now awak'd her eyes,
+    And summond Angels to this blessed sight.
+      No clowde was seene, but christalline the ayre,
+      Laughing for ioy upon my louely fayre.
+
+
+Amour 26
+
+    Cupid, dumbe-Idoll, peeuish Saint of loue,
+    No more shalt thou nor Saint nor Idoll be;
+    No God art thou, a Goddesse shee doth proue,
+    Of all thine honour shee hath robbed thee.
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings
+    Of purest gold, tempred with vertues fire,
+    The least able to kyll an hoste of Kings.
+    Thy shafts be spent, and shee (to warre appointed)
+    Hydes in those christall quiuers of her eyes
+    More Arrowes, with hart-piercing mettel poynted,
+    Then there be starres at midnight in the skyes.
+      With these she steales mens harts for her reliefe,
+      Yet happy he thats robd of such a thiefe!
+
+
+Amour 27
+
+    My Loue makes hote the fire whose heat is spent,
+    The water moisture from my teares deriueth,
+    And my strong sighes the ayres weake force reuiueth:
+    Thus loue, tears, sighes, maintaine each one his element.
+    The fire, vnto my loue, compare a painted fire,
+    The water, to my teares as drops to Oceans be,
+    The ayre, vnto my sighes as Eagle to the flie,
+    The passions of dispaire but ioyes to my desire.
+    Onely my loue is in the fire ingraued,
+    Onely my teares by Oceans may be gessed,
+    Onely my sighes are by the ayre expressed;
+    Yet fire, water, ayre, of nature not depriued.
+      Whilst fire, water, ayre, twixt heauen and earth shal be,
+      My loue, my teares, my sighes, extinguisht cannot be.
+
+
+Amour 28
+
+    Some wits there be which lyke my method well,
+    And say my verse runnes in a lofty vayne;
+    Some say, I haue a passing pleasing straine,
+    Some say that in my humour I excell.
+    Some who reach not the height of my conceite,
+    They say, (as Poets doe) I vse to fayne,
+    And in bare words paynt out my passions payne:
+    Thus sundry men their sundry minds repeate.
+    I passe not I how men affected be,
+    Nor who commend, or discommend my verse;
+    It pleaseth me if I my plaints rehearse,
+    And in my lynes if shee my loue may see.
+      I proue my verse autentique still in thys,
+      Who writes my Mistres praise can neuer write amisse.
+
+
+Amour 29
+
+    O eyes! behold your happy _Hesperus_,
+    That luckie Load-starre of eternall light,
+    Left as that sunne alone to comfort vs,
+    When our worlds sunne is vanisht out of sight.
+    O starre of starres! fayre Planet mildly moouing,
+    O Lampe of vertue! sun-bright, euer shyning,
+    O mine eyes Comet! so admyr'd by louing,
+    O cleerest day-starre! neuer more declyning.
+    O our worlds wonder! crowne of heauen aboue,
+    Thrice happy be those eyes which may behold thee!
+    Lou'd more then life, yet onely art his loue
+    Whose glorious hand immortal hath enrold thee!
+      O blessed fayre! now vaile those heauenly eyes,
+      That I may blesse mee at thy sweet arise.
+
+
+Amour 30
+
+    Three sorts of serpents doe resemble thee;
+    That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
+    Th' inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
+    The weeping Crocodile; these vile pernicious three.
+    The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,
+    Who for my life in secret wait do'st lye,
+    And to my heart send'st poyson from thine eye:
+    Thus do I feele the paine, the cause yet cannot see.
+    Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,
+    Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
+    Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
+    And, like a Tyrant, mak'st my griefe thy game.
+      The Crocodile, who, when thou hast me slaine,
+      Lament'st my death with teares of thy disdaine.
+
+
+Amour 31
+
+    Sitting alone, loue bids me goe and write;
+    Reason plucks backe, commaunding me to stay,
+    Boasting that shee doth still direct the way,
+    Els senceles loue could neuer once indite.
+    Loue, growing angry, vexed at the spleene,
+    And scorning Reasons maymed Argument,
+    Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent
+    Where shee with Loue conuersing hath not beene.
+    Reason, reproched with this coy disdaine,
+    Dispighteth Loue, and laugheth at her folly,
+    And Loue, contemning Reasons reason wholy,
+    Thought her in weight too light by many a graine.
+      Reason, put back, doth out of sight remoue,
+      And Loue alone finds reason in my loue.
+
+
+Amour 32
+
+    Those teares, which quench my hope, still kindle my desire,
+    Those sighes, which coole my hart, are coles vnto my loue,
+    Disdayne, Ice to my life, is to my soule a fire:
+    With teares, sighes, and disdaine, this contrary I proue.
+    Quenchles desire makes hope burne, dryes my teares,
+    Loue heats my hart, my hart-heat my sighes warmeth;
+    With my soules fire my life disdaine out-weares,
+    Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, hart, and life charmeth.
+    My hope becomes a friend to my desire,
+    My hart imbraceth Loue, Loue doth imbrace my hart;
+    My life a Phoenix is in my soules fire,
+    From thence (they vow) they neuer will depart.
+      Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, my hart, my life,
+      With teares, sighes, and disdaine, shall haue immortal strife.
+
+
+Amour 33
+
+    Whilst thus mine eyes doe surfet with delight,
+    My wofull hart, imprisond in my breast,
+    Wishing to be trans-formd into my sight,
+    To looke on her by whom mine eyes are blest;
+    But whilst mine eyes thus greedily doe gaze,
+    Behold! their obiects ouer-soone depart,
+    And treading in this neuer-ending maze,
+    Wish now to be trans-formd into my hart:
+    My hart, surcharg'd with thoughts, sighes in abundance raise,
+    My eyes, made dim with lookes, poure down a flood of tears;
+    And whilst my hart and eye enuy each others praise,
+    My dying lookes and thoughts are peiz'd in equall feares:
+      And thus, whilst sighes and teares together doe contende,
+      Each one of these doth ayde vnto the other lende.
+
+
+Amour 34
+
+    My fayre, looke from those turrets of thine eyes,
+    Into the Ocean of a troubled minde,
+    Where my poor soule, the Barke of sorrow, lyes,
+    Left to the mercy of the waues and winde.
+    See where she flotes, laden with purest loue,
+    Which those fayre Ilands of thy lookes affoord,
+    Desiring yet a thousand deaths to proue,
+    Then so to cast her Ballase ouerboard.
+    See how her sayles be rent, her tacklings worne,
+    Her Cable broke, her surest Anchor lost:
+    Her Marryners doe leaue her all forlorne,
+    Yet how shee bends towards that blessed Coast!
+      Loe! where she drownes in stormes of thy displeasure,
+      Whose worthy prize should haue enricht thy treasure.
+
+
+Amour 35
+
+    See, chaste _Diana_, where my harmles hart,
+    Rouz'd from my breast, his sure and safest layre,
+    Nor chaste by hound, nor forc'd by Hunters arte,
+    Yet see how right he comes vnto my fayre.
+    See how my Deere comes to thy Beauties stand,
+    And there stands gazing on those darting eyes,
+    Whilst from theyr rayes, by _Cupids_ skilfull hand,
+    Into his hart the piercing Arrow flyes.
+    See how he lookes vpon his bleeding wound,
+    Whilst thus he panteth for his latest breath,
+    And, looking on thee, falls vpon the ground,
+    Smyling, as though he gloried in his death.
+      And wallowing in his blood, some lyfe yet laft;
+      His stone-cold lips doth kisse the blessed shaft.
+
+
+Amour 36
+
+    Sweete, sleepe so arm'd with Beauties arrowes darting,
+    Sleepe in thy Beauty, Beauty in sleepe appeareth;
+    Sleepe lightning Beauty, Beauty sleepes, darknes cleereth,
+    Sleepes wonder Beauty, wonders to worlds imparting.
+    Sleep watching Beauty, Beauty waking, sleepe guarding
+    Beauty in sleepe, sleepe in Beauty charmed,
+    Sleepes aged coldnes with Beauties fire warmed,
+    Sleepe with delight, Beauty with loue rewarding.
+    Sleepe and Beauty, with equall forces stryuing,
+    Beauty her strength vnto sleepes weaknes lending,
+    Sleepe with Beauty, Beauty with sleepe contending,
+    Yet others force the others force reuiuing,
+      And others foe the others foe imbrace.
+      Myne eyes beheld thys conflict in thy face.
+
+
+Amour 37
+
+    I euer loue where neuer hope appeares,
+    Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care,
+    And my liues hope would die but for dyspaire;
+    My neuer certaine ioy breeds euer-certaine feares.
+    Vncertaine dread gyues wings vnto my hope,
+    Yet my hopes wings are loden so with feare,
+    As they cannot ascend to my hopes spheare,
+    Yet feare gyues them more then a heauenly scope.
+    Yet this large roome is bounded with dyspaire,
+    So my loue is still fettered with vaine hope,
+    And lyberty depriues him of hys scope,
+    And thus am I imprisond in the ayre:
+      Then, sweet Dispaire, awhile hold vp thy head,
+      Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.
+
+
+Amour 38
+
+    If chaste and pure deuotion of my youth,
+    Or glorie of my Aprill-springing yeeres,
+    Vnfained loue in naked simple truth,
+    A thousand vowes, a thousand sighes and teares;
+    Or if a world of faithful seruice done,
+    Words, thoughts, and deeds deuoted to her honor,
+    Or eyes that haue beheld her as theyr sunne,
+    With admiration euer looking on her:
+    A lyfe that neuer ioyd but in her loue,
+    A soule that euer hath ador'd her name,
+    A fayth that time nor fortune could not moue,
+    A Muse that vnto heauen hath raised her fame.
+      Though these, nor these deserue to be imbraced,
+      Yet, faire vnkinde, too good to be disgraced.
+
+
+Amour 39
+
+    Die, die, my soule, and neuer taste of ioy,
+    If sighes, nor teares, nor vowes, nor prayers can moue;
+    If fayth and zeale be but esteemd a toy,
+    And kindnes be vnkindnes in my loue.
+    Then, with vnkindnes, Loue, reuenge thy wrong:
+    O sweet'st reuenge that ere the heauens gaue!
+    And with the swan record thy dying song,
+    And praise her still to thy vntimely graue.
+    So in loues death shall loues perfection proue
+    That loue diuine which I haue borne to you,
+    By doome concealed to the heauens aboue,
+    That yet the world vnworthy neuer knew;
+      Whose pure _Idea_ neuer tongue exprest:
+      I feele, you know, the heauens can tell the rest.
+
+
+Amour 40
+
+    O thou vnkindest fayre! most fayrest shee,
+    In thine eyes tryumph murthering my poore hart,
+    Now doe I sweare by heauens, before we part,
+    My halfe-slaine hart shall take reuenge on thee.
+    Thy mother dyd her lyfe to death resigne,
+    And thou an Angell art, and from aboue;
+    Thy father was a man, that will I proue,
+    Yet thou a Goddesse art, and so diuine.
+    And thus, if thou be not of humaine kinde,
+    A Bastard on both sides needes must thou be;
+    Our Lawes allow no land to basterdy:
+    By natures Lawes we thee a bastard finde.
+      Then hence to heauen, vnkind, for thy childs part:
+      Goe bastard goe, for sure of thence thou art.
+
+
+Amour 41
+
+    Rare of-spring of my thoughts, my dearest Loue,
+    Begot by fancy on sweet hope exhortiue,
+    In whom all purenes with perfection stroue,
+    Hurt in the Embryon makes my ioyes abhortiue.
+    And you, my sighes, Symtomas of my woe,
+    The dolefull Anthems of my endelesse care,
+    Lyke idle Ecchoes euer answering; so,
+    The mournfull accents of my loues dispayre.
+    And thou, Conceite, the shadow of my blisse,
+    Declyning with the setting of my sunne,
+    Springing with that, and fading straight with this,
+    Now hast thou end, and now thou wast begun:
+      Now was thy pryme, and loe! is now thy waine;
+      Now wast thou borne, now in thy cradle slayne.
+
+
+Amour 42
+
+    Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre
+    Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies,
+    Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare,
+    Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes.
+    Wounded with Arrowes from thy lightning eyes,
+    My tongue in payne my harts counsels bewraying,
+    My rebell thought for me in Ambushe lyes,
+    To my lyues foe her Chieftaine still betraying.
+    Record my loue in Ocean waues (vnkind)
+    Cast my desarts into the open ayre,
+    Commit my words vnto the fleeting wind,
+    Cancell my name, and blot it with dispayre;
+      So shall I bee as I had neuer beene,
+      Nor my disgraces to the world be seene.
+
+
+Amour 43
+
+    Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue,
+    When my hart is the very Den of horror,
+    And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue,
+    With all his torments and infernall terror?
+    Myne eyes want teares thus to bewayle my woe,
+    My brayne is dry with weeping all too long;
+    My sighes be spent with griefe and sighing so,
+    And I want words for to expresse my wrong.
+    But still, distracted in loues lunacy,
+    And Bedlam like thus rauing in my griefe,
+    Now rayle vpon her hayre, now on her eye,
+    Now call her Goddesse, then I call her thiefe;
+      Now I deny her, then I doe confesse her,
+      Now I doe curse her, then againe I blesse her.
+
+
+Amour 44
+
+    My hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate,
+    My words the hammers fashioning my desire,
+    My breast the forge, including all the heate,
+    Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire:
+    My sighes the bellowes which the flame increaseth,
+    Filling mine eares with noise and nightly groning,
+    Toyling with paine my labour neuer ceaseth,
+    In greeuous passions my woes styll bemoning.
+    Myne eyes with teares against the fire stryuing,
+    With scorching gleed my hart to cynders turneth;
+    But with those drops the coles againe reuyuing,
+    Still more and more vnto my torment burneth.
+      With _Sisiphus_ thus doe I role the stone,
+      And turne the wheele with damned _Ixion_.
+
+
+Amour 45
+
+    Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe,
+    The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow,
+    Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so,
+    Still to prolong my long tyme lookt-for morrow?
+    Thou Sable shadow, Image of dispayre,
+    Portraite of hell, the ayres black mourning weed,
+    Recorder of reuenge, remembrancer of care,
+    The shadow and the vaile of euery sinfull deed.
+    Death like to thee, so lyue thou still in death,
+    The graue of ioy, prison of dayes delight.
+    Let heauens withdraw their sweet Ambrozian breath,
+    Nor Moone nor stars lend thee their shining light;
+      For thou alone renew'st that olde desire,
+      Which still torments me in dayes burning fire.
+
+
+Amour 46
+
+    Sweete secrecie, what tongue can tell thy worth?
+    What mortall pen sufficiently can prayse thee?
+    What curious Pensill serues to lim thee forth?
+    What Muse hath power aboue thy height to raise thee?
+    Strong locke of kindnesse, Closet of loues store,
+    Harts Methridate, the soules preseruatiue;
+    O vertue! which all vertues doe adore,
+    Cheefe good, from whom all good things wee deriue.
+    O rare effect! true bond of friendships measure,
+    Conceite of Angels, which all wisdom teachest;
+    O, richest Casket of all heauenly treasure,
+    In secret silence which such wonders preachest.
+      O purest mirror! wherein men may see
+      The liuely Image of Diuinitie.
+
+
+Amour 47
+
+    The golden Sunne vpon his fiery wheeles
+    The horned Ram doth in his course awake,
+    And of iust length our night and day doth make,
+    Flinging the Fishes backward with his heeles:
+    Then to the Tropicke takes his full Careere,
+    Trotting his sun-steeds till the Palfrays sweat,
+    Bayting the Lyon in his furious heat,
+    Till Virgins smyles doe sound his sweet reteere.
+    But my faire Planet, who directs me still,
+    Vnkindly such distemperature doth bring,
+    Makes Summer Winter, Autumne in the Spring,
+    Crossing sweet nature by vnruly will.
+      Such is the sunne who guides my youthfull season,
+      Whose thwarting course depriues the world of reason.
+
+
+Amour 48
+
+    Who list to praise the dayes delicious lyght,
+    Let him compare it to her heauenly eye,
+    The sun-beames to the lustre of her sight;
+    So may the learned like the similie.
+    The mornings Crimson to her lyps alike,
+    The sweet of _Eden_ to her breathes perfume,
+    The fayre _Elizia_ to her fayrer cheeke,
+    Vnto her veynes the onely Phœnix plume.
+    The Angels tresses to her tressed hayre,
+    The _Galixia_ to her more then white.
+    Praysing the fayrest, compare it to my faire,
+    Still naming her in naming all delight.
+      So may he grace all these in her alone,
+      Superlatiue in all comparison.
+
+
+Amour 49
+
+    Define my loue, and tell the ioyes of heauen,
+    Expresse my woes, and shew the paynes of hell;
+    Declare what fate vnlucky starres haue giuen,
+    And aske a world vpon my life to dwell.
+    Make knowne that fayth vnkindnes could not moue;
+    Compare my worth with others base desert:
+    Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue,
+    So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart.
+    Behold the Clowdes which haue eclips'd my sunne,
+    And view the crosses which my course doth let;
+    Tell mee, if euer since the world begunne,
+    So faire a Morning had so foule a set?
+      And, by all meanes, let black vnkindnes proue
+      The patience of so rare, diuine a loue.
+
+
+Amour 50
+
+    When I first ended, then I first began;
+    The more I trauell, further from my rest;
+    Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;
+    Pyned with hunger, rysing from a feast.
+    Mee thinks I flee, yet want I legs to goe,
+    Wise in conceite, in acte a very sot;
+    Rauisht with ioy amidst a hell of woe,
+    What most I seeme, that surest I am not.
+    I build my hopes a world aboue the skye,
+    Yet with a Mole I creepe into the earth:
+    In plenty am I staru'd with penury,
+    And yet I serfet in the greatest dearth.
+      I haue, I want, dispayre, and yet desire,
+      Burn'd in a Sea of Ice, and drown'd amidst a fire.
+
+
+Amour 51
+
+    Goe you, my lynes, Embassadours of loue,
+    With my harts tribute to her conquering eyes,
+    From whence, if you one tear of pitty moue
+    For all my woes, that onely shall suffise.
+    When you _Minerua_ in the sunne behold,
+    At her perfections stand you then and gaze,
+    Where in the compasse of a Marygold,
+    _Meridianis_ sits within a maze.
+    And let Inuention of her beauty vaunt
+    When _Dorus_ sings his sweet Pamelas loue,
+    And tell the Gods, _Mars_ is predominant,
+    Seated with _Sol_, and weares Mineruas gloue:
+      And tell the world, that in the world there is
+      A heauen on earth, on earth no heauen but this.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1599]
+
+
+Sonet 1
+
+    The worlds faire Rose, and _Henries_ frosty fire,
+    Iohns tyrannie; and chast _Matilda's_ wrong,
+    Th'inraged Queene, and furious _Mortimer_,
+    The scourge of Fraunce, and his chast loue I song;
+    Deposed _Richard_, _Isabell_ exil'd,
+    The gallant _Tudor_, and fayre _Katherine_,
+    Duke _Humfrey_, and old _Cobhams_ haplesse child,
+    Couragious _Pole_, and that braue spiritfull Queene;
+    _Edward_, and that delicious London Dame,
+    _Brandon_, and that rich dowager of Fraunce,
+    _Surrey_, with his fayre paragon of fame,
+    _Dudleys_ mishap, and vertuous _Grays_ mischance;
+      Their seuerall loues since I before haue showne,
+      Now giue me leaue at last to sing mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 2
+
+_To the Reader of his Poems_
+
+    Into these loues who but for passion lookes,
+    At this first sight, here let him lay them by,
+    And seeke elsewhere in turning other bookes,
+    Which better may his labour satisfie.
+    No far-fetch'd sigh shall euer wound my brest,
+    Loue from mine eye, a teare shall neuer wring,
+    Nor in ah-mees my whyning Sonets drest,
+    (A Libertine) fantasticklie I sing;
+    My verse is the true image of my mind,
+    Euer in motion, still desiring change,
+    To choyce of all varietie inclin'd,
+    And in all humors sportiuely I range;
+      My actiue Muse is of the worlds right straine,
+      That cannot long one fashion entertaine.
+
+
+Sonet 3
+
+    Many there be excelling in this kind,
+    Whose well trick'd rimes with all inuention swell,
+    Let each commend as best shall like his minde,
+    Some _Sidney_, _Constable_, some _Daniell_.
+    That thus theyr names familiarly I sing,
+    Let none think them disparaged to be,
+    Poore men with reuerence may speake of a King,
+    And so may these be spoken of by mee;
+    My wanton verse nere keepes one certaine stay,
+    But now, at hand; then, seekes inuention far,
+    And with each little motion runnes astray,
+    Wilde, madding, iocond, and irreguler;
+      Like me that lust, my honest merry rimes,
+      Nor care for Criticke, nor regard the times.
+
+
+Sonet 5
+
+    My hart was slaine, and none but you and I,
+    Who should I thinke the murder should commit?
+    Since but your selfe, there was no creature by
+    But onely I, guiltlesse of murth'ring it.
+    It slew it selfe; the verdict on the view
+    Doe quit the dead and me not accessarie;
+    Well, well, I feare it will be prou'd by you,
+    The euidence so great a proofe doth carry.
+    But O, see, see, we need enquire no further,
+    Vpon your lips the scarlet drops are found,
+    And in your eye, the boy that did the murther,
+    Your cheekes yet pale since first they gaue the wound.
+      By this, I see, how euer things be past,
+      Yet heauen will still haue murther out at last.
+
+
+Sonet 8
+
+    Nothing but no and I, and I and no,
+    How falls it out so strangely you reply?
+    I tell yee (Faire) Ile not be aunswered so,
+    With this affirming no, denying I,
+    I say I loue, you slightly aunswer I?
+    I say you loue, you pule me out a no;
+    I say I die, you eccho me with I,
+    Saue me I cry, you sigh me out a no:
+    Must woe and I, haue naught but no and I?
+    No, I am I, If I no more can haue,
+    Aunswer no more, with silence make reply,
+    And let me take my selfe what I doe craue;
+      Let no and I, with I and you be so,
+      Then aunswer no, and I, and I, and no.
+
+
+Sonet 9
+
+    Loue once would daunce within my Mistres eye,
+    And wanting musique fitting for the place,
+    Swore that I should the Instrument supply,
+    And sodainly presents me with her face:
+    Straightwayes my pulse playes liuely in my vaines,
+    My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time,
+    My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours Straynes,
+    My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime,
+    My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare,
+    True diapazon in distincted sound:
+    My panting hart the treble makes the ayre,
+    And descants finely on the musiques ground;
+      Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lye,
+      Whilst the proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye.
+
+
+Sonet 10
+
+    Loue in an humor played the prodigall,
+    And bids my sences to a solemne feast,
+    Yet more to grace the company withall,
+    Inuites my heart to be the chiefest guest;
+    No other drinke would serue this gluttons turne,
+    But precious teares distilling from mine eyne,
+    Which with my sighs this Epicure doth burne,
+    Quaffing carouses in this costly wine,
+    Where, in his cups or'come with foule excesse,
+    Begins to play a swaggering Ruffins part,
+    And at the banquet, in his drunkennes,
+    Slew my deare friend, his kind and truest hart;
+      A gentle warning, friends, thus may you see
+      What 'tis to keepe a drunkard company.
+
+
+Sonet 11
+
+_To the Moone_
+
+    Phæbe looke downe, and here behold in mee,
+    The elements within thy sphere inclosed,
+    How kindly Nature plac'd them vnder thee,
+    And in my world, see how they are disposed;
+    My hope is earth, the lowest, cold and dry,
+    The grosser mother of deepe melancholie,
+    Water my teares, coold with humidity,
+    Wan, flegmatick, inclind by nature wholie;
+    My sighs, the ayre, hote, moyst, ascending hier,
+    Subtile of sanguine, dy'de in my harts dolor,
+    My thoughts, they be the element of fire,
+    Hote, dry, and piercing, still inclind to choller,
+      Thine eye the Orbe vnto all these, from whence,
+      Proceeds th' effects of powerfull influence.
+
+
+Sonet 12
+
+    To nothing fitter can I thee compare,
+    Then to the sonne of some rich penyfather,
+    Who hauing now brought on his end with care,
+    Leaues to his son all he had heap'd together;
+    This newe rich nouice, lauish of his chest,
+    To one man giues, and on another spends,
+    Then here he ryots, yet amongst the rest,
+    Haps to lend some to one true honest friend.
+    Thy gifts thou in obscuritie doost wast,
+    False friends thy kindnes, borne but to deceiue thee,
+    Thy loue, that is on the unworthy plac'd,
+    Time hath thy beauty, which with age will leaue thee;
+      Onely that little which to me was lent,
+      I giue thee back, when all the rest is spent.
+
+
+Sonet 13
+
+    You not alone, when you are still alone,
+    O God from you that I could priuate be,
+    Since you one were, I neuer since was one,
+    Since you in me, my selfe since out of me
+    Transported from my selfe into your beeing
+    Though either distant, present yet to eyther,
+    Senceles with too much ioy, each other seeing,
+    And onely absent when we are together.
+    Giue me my selfe, and take your selfe againe,
+    Deuise some means but how I may forsake you,
+    So much is mine that doth with you remaine,
+    That taking what is mine, with me I take you,
+      You doe bewitch me, O that I could flie
+      From my selfe you, or from your owne selfe I.
+
+
+Sonet 14
+
+_To the Soule_
+
+    That learned Father which so firmly proues
+    The soule of man immortall and diuine,
+    And doth the seuerall offices define,
+    _Anima._ Giues her that name as shee the body moues,
+    _Amor._ Then is she loue imbracing Charitie,
+    _Animus._ Mouing a will in vs, it is the mind,
+    _Mens._ Retayning knowledge, still the same in kind;
+    _Memoria._ As intelectuall it is the memorie,
+    _Ratio._ In judging, Reason onely is her name,
+    _Sensus._ In speedy apprehension it is sence,
+    _Conscientia._ In right or wrong, they call her conscience.
+    _Spiritus._ The spirit, when it to Godward doth inflame.
+      These of the soule the seuerall functions bee,
+      Which my hart lightned by thy loue doth see.
+
+
+Sonet 21
+
+    You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?
+    There was a time, you told me that you would,
+    But now againe you will the same deny,
+    If it might please you, would to God you could;
+    What will you hate? nay, that you will not neither,
+    Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you do,
+    What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?
+    Or will you loue me, and yet hate me to?
+    Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?
+    You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere,
+    I see your craft, now I perceaue your drift,
+    And all this while, I was mistaken there.
+      Your loue and hate is this, I now doe proue you,
+      You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.
+
+
+Sonet 22
+
+    An euill spirit your beauty haunts me still,
+    Where-with (alas) I haue been long possest,
+    Which ceaseth not to tempt me vnto ill,
+    Nor giues me once but one pore minutes rest.
+    In me it speakes, whether I sleepe or wake,
+    And when by meanes to driue it out I try,
+    With greater torments then it me doth take,
+    And tortures me in most extreamity.
+    Before my face, it layes all my dispaires,
+    And hasts me on vnto a suddaine death;
+    Now tempting me, to drown my selfe in teares,
+    And then in sighing to giue vp my breath:
+      Thus am I still prouok'd to euery euill,
+      By this good wicked spirit, sweet Angel deuill.
+
+
+Sonet 23
+
+_To the Spheares_
+
+    Thou which do'st guide this little world of loue,
+    Thy planets mansions heere thou mayst behold,
+    My brow the spheare where _Saturne_ still doth moue,
+    Wrinkled with cares: and withered, dry, and cold;
+    Mine eyes the Orbe where _Iupiter_ doth trace,
+    Which gently smile because they looke on thee,
+    _Mars_ in my swarty visage takes his place,
+    Made leane with loue, where furious conflicts bee.
+    _Sol_ in my breast with his hote scorching flame,
+    And in my hart alone doth _Venus_ raigne:
+    _Mercury_ my hands the Organs of thy fame,
+    And _Luna_ glides in my fantastick braine;
+      The starry heauen thy prayse by me exprest,
+      Thou the first moouer, guiding all the rest.
+
+
+Sonet 24
+
+    Love banish'd heauen, in earth was held in scorne,
+    Wandring abroad in neede and beggery,
+    And wanting friends though of a Goddesse borne,
+    Yet crau'd the almes of such as passed by.
+    I like a man, deuout and charitable;
+    Clothed the naked, lodg'd this wandring guest,
+    With sighs and teares still furnishing his table,
+    With what might make the miserable blest;
+    But this vngratefull for my good desart,
+    Entic'd my thoughts against me to conspire,
+    Who gaue consent to steale away my hart,
+    And set my breast his lodging on a fire:
+      Well, well, my friends, when beggers grow thus bold,
+      No meruaile then though charity grow cold.
+
+
+Sonet 25
+
+    O why should nature nigardly restraine,
+    The Sotherne Nations relish not our tongue,
+    Else should my lines glide on the waues of Rhene,
+    And crowne the Pirens with my liuing song;
+    But bounded thus to Scotland get you forth:
+    Thence take you wing vnto the Orcades,
+    There let my verse get glory in the North,
+    Making my sighs to thawe the frozen seas,
+    And let the Bards within the Irish Ile,
+    To whom my Muse with fiery wings shall passe,
+    Call backe the stifneckd rebels from exile,
+    And molifie the slaughtering Galliglasse:
+      And when my flowing numbers they rehearse,
+      Let Wolues and Bears be charmed with my verse.
+
+
+Sonet 27
+
+    I gaue my faith to Loue, Loue his to mee,
+    That hee and I, sworne brothers should remaine,
+    Thus fayth receiu'd, fayth giuen back againe,
+    Who would imagine bond more sure could be?
+    Loue flies to her, yet holds he my fayth taken,
+    Thus from my vertue raiseth my offence,
+    Making me guilty by mine innocence;
+    And surer bond by beeing so forsaken,
+    He makes her aske what I before had vow'd,
+    Giuing her that, which he had giuen me,
+    I bound by him, and he by her made free,
+    Who euer so hard breach of fayth alow'd?
+      Speake you that should of right and wrong discusse,
+      Was right ere wrong'd, or wrong ere righted thus?
+
+
+Sonet 29
+
+_To the Sences_
+
+    When conquering loue did first my hart assaile,
+    Vnto mine ayde I summond euery sence,
+    Doubting if that proude tyrant should preuaile,
+    My hart should suffer for mine eyes offence;
+    But he with beauty, first corrupted sight,
+    My hearing bryb'd with her tongues harmony,
+    My taste, by her sweet lips drawne with delight,
+    My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie;
+    But when my touching came to play his part,
+    (The King of sences, greater than the rest)
+    That yeelds loue up the keyes vnto my hart,
+    And tells the other how they should be blest;
+      And thus by those of whom I hop'd for ayde,
+      To cruell Loue my soule was first betrayd.
+
+
+Sonet 30
+
+_To the Vestalls_
+
+    Those Priests, which first the Vestall fire begun,
+    Which might be borrowed from no earthly flame,
+    Deuisd a vessell to receiue the sunne,
+    Beeing stedfastly opposed to the same;
+    Where with sweet wood laid curiously by Art,
+    Whereon the sunne might by reflection beate,
+    Receiuing strength from euery secret part,
+    The fuell kindled with celestiall heate.
+    Thy blessed eyes, the sunne which lights this fire,
+    My holy thoughts, they be the Vestall flame,
+    The precious odors be my chast desire,
+    My breast the fuell which includes the same;
+      Thou art my Vesta, thou my Goddesse art,
+      Thy hollowed Temple, onely is my hart.
+
+
+Sonet 31
+
+    Me thinks I see some crooked Mimick ieere
+    And taxe my Muse with this fantastick grace,
+    Turning my papers, asks what haue we heere?
+    Making withall, some filthy anticke face;
+    I feare no censure, nor what thou canst say,
+    Nor shall my spirit one iote of vigor lose,
+    Think'st thou my wit shall keepe the pack-horse way,
+    That euery dudgen low inuention goes?
+    Since Sonnets thus in bundles are imprest,
+    And euery drudge doth dull our satiate eare,
+    Think'st thou my loue, shall in those rags be drest
+    That euery dowdie, euery trull doth weare?
+      Vnto my pitch no common iudgement flies,
+      I scorne all earthlie dung-bred scarabies.
+
+
+Sonet 34
+
+_To Admiration_
+
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought,
+    That knowing more then euer hath beene taught,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Ayming at things exceeding all perfection,
+    To wisedoms selfe, to minister direction,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Though my conceite I farther seeme to bend,
+    Then possibly inuention can extend,
+    And yet am onely staru'd in my desire;
+      If thou wilt wonder, heers the wonder loue,
+      That this to mee doth yet no wonder proue.
+
+
+Sonet 43
+
+    Whilst thus my pen striues to eternize thee,
+    Age rules my lines with wrincles in my face,
+    Where in the Map of all my misery,
+    Is modeld out the world of my disgrace,
+    Whilst in despight of tyrannizing times,
+    _Medea_ like I make thee young againe,
+    Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rimes,
+    And murther'st vertue with thy coy disdaine;
+    And though in youth, my youth vntimely perrish,
+    To keepe thee from obliuion and the graue,
+    Ensuing ages yet my rimes shall cherrish,
+    Where I entomb'd, my better part shall saue;
+      And though this earthly body fade and die
+      My name shall mount vpon eternitie.
+
+
+Sonet 44
+
+    Muses which sadly sit about my chayre,
+    Drownd in the teares extorted by my lines,
+    With heauy sighs whilst thus I breake the ayre,
+    Paynting my passions in these sad dissignes,
+    Since she disdaines to blesse my happy verse,
+    The strong built Trophies to her liuing fame,
+    Euer hence-forth my bosome be your hearse,
+    Wherein the world shal now entombe her name,
+    Enclose my musick you poor sencelesse walls,
+    Sith she is deafe and will not heare my mones,
+    Soften your selues with euery teare that falls,
+    Whilst I like _Orpheus_ sing to trees and stones:
+      Which with my plaints seeme yet with pitty moued,
+      Kinder then she who I so long haue loued.
+
+
+Sonet 45
+
+    Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,
+    And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,
+    I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,
+    Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.
+    But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,
+    Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,
+    Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,
+    Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.
+    Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,
+    And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
+    Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,
+    With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.
+      Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,
+      Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.
+
+
+Sonet 55
+
+    Truce gentle loue, a parly now I craue,
+    Me thinks, 'tis long since first these wars begun,
+    Nor thou nor I, the better yet can haue:
+    Bad is the match where neither party wone.
+    I offer free conditions of faire peace,
+    My hart for hostage, that it shall remaine,
+    Discharge our forces heere, let malice cease,
+    So for my pledge, thou giue me pledge againe.
+    Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne,
+    Still thirsting for subuersion of my state;
+    Doe what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burne,
+    Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate:
+      I send defiance, since if ouerthrowne,
+      Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 56
+
+_A Consonet_
+
+    Eyes with your teares, blind if you bee,
+    Why haue these teares such eyes to see,
+    Poore eyes, if yours teares cannot moue,
+    My teares, eyes, then must mone my loue,
+      Then eyes, since you haue lost your sight,
+      Weepe still, and teares shall lend you light,
+      Till both desolu'd, and both want might.
+    No, no, cleere eyes, you are not blind,
+    But in my teares discerne my mind:
+    Teares be the language which you speake,
+    Which my hart wanting, yet must breake;
+      My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs,
+      And make my sighs to get them tongs,
+      Yet more then this to her belongs.
+
+
+Sonet 57
+
+_To_ Lucie _Countesse of Bedford_
+
+    Great Lady, essence of my chiefest good,
+    Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit,
+    Adorn'd with gifts, enobled by thy blood,
+    Which by discent true vertue do'st inherit:
+    That vertue which no fortune can depriue,
+    Which thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother,
+    Whose royall minds with equall motion striue,
+    Which most in honour shall excell the other;
+    Vnto thy fame my Muse herself shall taske,
+    Which rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers,
+    And but thy selfe, no subject will I aske,
+    Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers.
+      Sweet Lady yet, grace this poore Muse of mine,
+      Whose faith, whose zeale, whose life, whose all is thine.
+
+
+Sonet 58
+
+_To the Lady_ Anne Harington
+
+    Madam, my words cannot expresse my mind,
+    My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you,
+    When your desarts all seuerally I find;
+    In this attempt of me doe claim their due,
+    Your gracious kindnes that doth claime my hart;
+    Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne,
+    Of me your vertues each doe claime a part,
+    And leaue me thus the least part of mine owne.
+    What should commend your modesty and wit,
+    Is by your wit and modesty commended
+    And standeth dumbe, in much admiring it,
+    And where it should begin, it there is ended;
+      Returning this your prayses onely due,
+      And to your selfe say you are onely you.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1602]
+
+
+Sonnet 12
+
+_To Lunacie_
+
+    As other men, so I my selfe doe muse,
+    Why in this sort I wrest Inuention so,
+    And why these giddy metaphors I vse,
+    Leauing the path the greater part doe goe;
+    I will resolue you; I am lunaticke,
+    And euer this in mad men you shall finde,
+    What they last thought on when the braine grew sick,
+    In most distraction keepe that still in minde.
+    Thus talking idely in this bedlam fit,
+    Reason and I, (you must conceiue) are twaine,
+    'Tis nine yeeres, now, since first I lost my wit
+    Beare with me, then, though troubled be my braine;
+      With diet and correction, men distraught,
+      (Not too farre past) may to their wits be brought.
+
+
+Sonnet 17
+
+    If hee from heauen that filch'd that liuing fire,
+    Condemn'd by _Ioue_ to endlesse torment be,
+    I greatly meruaile how you still goe free,
+    That farre beyond _Promethius_ did aspire?
+    The fire he stole, although of heauenly kinde,
+    Which from aboue he craftily did take,
+    Of liueles clods vs liuing men to make,
+    Againe bestow'd in temper of the mind.
+    But you broke in to heauens immortall store,
+    Where vertue, honour, wit, and beautie lay,
+    Which taking thence, you haue escap'd away,
+    Yet stand as free as ere you did before.
+      But old _Promethius_ punish'd for his rape,
+      Thus poore theeues suffer, when the greater scape.
+
+
+Sonnet 25
+
+_To Folly_
+
+    With fooles and children good discretion beares,
+    Then honest people beare with Loue and me,
+    Nor older yet, nor wiser made by yeeres,
+    Amongst the rest of fooles and children be;
+    Loues still a Baby, playes with gaudes and toyes,
+    And like a wanton sports with euery feather,
+    And Idiots still are running after boyes,
+    Then fooles and children fitt'st to goe together;
+    He still as young as when he first was borne,
+    No wiser I, then when as young as he,
+    You that behold vs, laugh vs not to scorne,
+    Giue Nature thanks, you are not such as we;
+      Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play,
+      Some wise in showe, more fooles in deede, then they.
+
+
+Sonnet 27
+
+    I heare some say, this man is not in loue,
+    Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say:
+    Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;
+    O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray,
+    Because I loosely tryfle in this sort,
+    As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile:
+    You now suppose me, all this time in sport,
+    And please your selfe with this conceit the while.
+    You shallow censures; sometime see you not
+    In greatest perills some men pleasant be,
+    Where fame by death is onely to be got,
+    They resolute, so stands the case with me;
+      Where other men, in depth of passion cry,
+      I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die.
+
+
+Sonnet 31
+
+    To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,
+    And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,
+    Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,
+    I thus appose my force of reason wholly,
+    Though I giue more, then well affords my state,
+    In which expense the most suppose me vaine,
+    Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,
+    Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,
+    They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,
+    And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,
+    I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,
+    Whether are these deccaued then, or I?
+      In euery thing I hold this maxim still,
+      The circumstance doth make it good or ill.
+
+
+Sonnet 41
+
+    Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest
+    When now the night doth summon all to sleepe?
+    Me thinks this time becommeth louers best,
+    Night was ordained together friends to keepe.
+    How happy are all other liuing things,
+    Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight,
+    The quiet euening yet together brings,
+    And each returnes vnto his loue at night.
+    O thou that art so curteous vnto all,
+    Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus,
+    That euery creature to his kinde doost call,
+    And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs.
+      Well could I wish it would be euer day,
+      If when night comes you bid me goe away.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+_To Prouerbe_
+
+    As Loue and I, late harbour'd in one Inne,
+    With Prouerbs thus each other intertaine;
+    _In loue there is no lacke, thus I beginne?
+    Faire words makes fooles, replieth he againe?
+    That spares to speake, doth spare to speed (quoth I)
+    As well (saith he) too forward as too slow.
+    Fortune assists the boldest, I replie?
+    A hasty man (quoth he) nere wanted woe.
+    Labour is light, where loue (quoth I) doth pay,
+    (Saith he) light burthens heauy, if farre borne?
+    (Quoth I) the maine lost, cast the by away:
+    You haue spunne a faire thred, he replies in scorne_.
+      And hauing thus a while each other thwarted,
+      Fooles as we met, so fooles againe we parted.
+
+
+Sonnet 63
+
+_To the high and mighty Prince, James, King of Scots_
+
+    Not thy graue Counsells, nor thy Subiects loue,
+    Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie,
+    Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue,
+    Others in vaine doe but historifie,
+    When thine owne glorie from thy selfe doth spring,
+    As though thou did'st, all meaner prayses scorne:
+    Of Kings a Poet, and the Poets King,
+    They Princes, but thou Prophets do'st adorne;
+    Whilst others by their Empires are renown'd,
+    Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne,
+    And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd,
+    But with thy Laurell, thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne;
+      That they whose pens, euen life to Kings doe giue,
+      In thee a King, shall seeke them selues to liue.
+
+
+Sonnet _66_
+
+_To the Lady_ L.S.
+
+    Bright starre of Beauty, on whose eyelids sit,
+    A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces,
+    The Goddesses of memory and wit,
+    Which in due order take their seuerall places,
+    In whose deare bosome, sweet delicious loue,
+    Layes downe his quiuer, that he once did beare,
+    Since he that blessed Paradice did proue,
+    Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there.
+    Let others striue to entertaine with words,
+    My soule is of another temper made;
+    I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords,
+    Deuouring time my faith, shall not inuade:
+      Still let my praise be honoured thus by you,
+      Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1605]
+
+
+Sonnet 43
+
+    Why should your faire eyes with such soueraine grace,
+    Dispearse their raies on euery vulgar spirit,
+    Whilst I in darknes in the selfesame place,
+    Get not one glance to recompence my merit:
+    So doth the plow-man gaze the wandring starre,
+    And onely rests contented with the light,
+    That neuer learnd what constellations are,
+    Beyond the bent of his vnknowing sight.
+    O why should beautie (custome to obey)
+    To their grosse sence applie her selfe so ill?
+    Would God I were as ignorant as they
+    When I am made vnhappy by my skill;
+      Onely compeld on this poore good to boast,
+      Heauens are not kind to them that know them most.
+
+
+Sonnet 46
+
+    Plain-path'd Experience the vnlearneds guide,
+    Her simple followers euidently shewes,
+    Sometime what schoolemen scarcely can decide,
+    Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knowes:
+    In making triall of a murther wrought,
+    If the vile actor of the heinous deede,
+    Neere the dead bodie happily be brought,
+    Oft hath been prou'd the breathlesse coarse will bleed;
+    She comming neere that my poore hart hath slaine,
+    Long since departed, (to the world no more)
+    The auncient wounds no longer can containe,
+    But fall to bleeding as they did before:
+      But what of this? should she to death be led,
+      It furthers iustice, but helpes not the dead.
+
+
+Sonnet 47
+
+    In pride of wit, when high desire of fame
+    Gaue life and courage to my labouring pen,
+    And first the sound and vertue of my name,
+    Won grace and credit in the eares of men:
+    With those the thronged Theaters that presse,
+    I in the circuite for the Lawrell stroue,
+    Where the full praise I freely must confesse,
+    In heate of blood a modest minde might moue:
+    With showts and daps at euerie little pawse,
+    When the prowd round on euerie side hath rung,
+    Sadly I sit vnmou'd with the applawse,
+    As though to me it nothing did belong:
+      No publique glorie vainely I pursue,
+      The praise I striue, is to eternize you.
+
+
+Sonnet 50
+
+    As in some Countries far remote from hence,
+    The wretched creature destined to die,
+    Hauing the iudgement due to his offence,
+    By Surgeons begg'd, their Art on him to trie:
+    Which on the liuing worke without remorce,
+    First make incision on each maistring vaine,
+    Then stanch the bleeding, then transperce the coarse,
+    And with their balmes recure the wounds againe,
+    Then poison and with Phisicke him restore,
+    Not that they feare the hopelesse man to kill,
+    But their experience to encrease the more;
+    Euen so my Mistresse works vpon my ill,
+      By curing me, and killing me each howre,
+      Onely to shew her beauties soueraigne powre.
+
+
+Sonnet 51
+
+    Calling to minde since first my loue begunne,
+    Th' incertaine times oft varying in their course,
+    How things still vnexpectedly haue runne,
+    As please the fates, by their resistlesse force:
+    Lastly, mine eyes amazedly haue scene,
+    _Essex_ great fall, _Tyrone_ his peace to gaine,
+    The quiet end of that long-liuing Queene,
+    This Kings faire entrance, and our peace with Spaine,
+    We and the Dutch at length our selues to seuer.
+    Thus the world doth, and euermore shall reele,
+    Yet to my goddesse am I constant euer;
+    How ere blind fortune turne her giddy wheele:
+      Though heauen and earth proue both to mee vntrue,
+      Yet am I still inuiolate to you.
+
+
+Sonnet 57
+
+    You best discern'd of my interior eies,
+    And yet your graces outwardly diuine,
+    Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,
+    Too riche a relique for so poore a shrine:
+    You in whome Nature chose herselfe to view,
+    When she her owne perfection would admire,
+    Bestowing all her excellence on you;
+    At whose pure eies Loue lights his halowed fire,
+    Euen as a man that in some traunce hath scene,
+    More than his wondring vttrance can vnfolde,
+    That rapt in spirite in better worlds hath beene,
+    So must your praise distractedly be tolde;
+      Most of all short, when I should shew you most,
+      In your perfections altogether lost.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+    In former times, such as had store of coyne,
+    In warres at home, or when for conquests bound,
+    For feare that some their treasures should purloyne,
+    Gaue it to keepe to spirites within the ground;
+    And to attend it, them so strongly tide,
+    Till they return'd, home when they neuer came,
+    Such as by art to get the same haue tride,
+    From the strong spirits by no means get the same,
+    Neerer you come, that further flies away,
+    Striuing to holde it strongly in the deepe:
+    Euen as this spirit, so she alone doth play,
+    With those rich Beauties heauen giues her to keepe:
+      Pitty so left, to coldenes of her blood,
+      Not to auaile her, nor do others good.
+
+
+_To Sir Walter Aston, Knight of the honourable
+        order of the Bath, and my most
+               worthy Patron_
+
+    I will not striue m' inuention to inforce,
+    With needlesse words your eyes to entertaine,
+    T' obserue the formall ordinarie course
+    That euerie one so vulgarly doth faine:
+    Our interchanged and deliberate choise,
+    Is with more firme and true election sorted,
+    Then stands in censure of the common voice.
+    That with light humor fondly is transported:
+    Nor take I patterne of another's praise,
+    Then what my pen may constantly avow.
+    Nor walke more publique nor obscurer waies
+    Then vertue bids, and iudgement will allow;
+      So shall my tone, and best endeuours serue you,
+      And still shall studie, still so to deserue you.
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+1
+
+    Like an aduenturous Sea-farer am I,
+    Who hath some long and dang'rous Voyage beene,
+    And call'd to tell of his Discouerie,
+    How farre he sayl'd, what Countries he had seene,
+    Proceeding from the Port whence he put forth,
+    Shewes by his Compasse, how his Course he steer'd,
+    When East, when West, when South, and when by North,
+    As how the Pole to eu'ry place was rear'd,
+    What Capes he doubled, of what Continent,
+    The Gulphes and Straits, that strangely he had past,
+    Where most becalm'd, wherewith foule Weather spent,
+    And on what Rocks in perill to be cast?
+    Thus in my Loue, Time calls me to relate
+    My tedious Trauels, and oft-varying Fate.
+
+
+6
+
+    How many paltry, foolish, painted things,
+    That now in Coaches trouble eu'ry Street,
+    Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,
+    Ere they be well wrap'd in their winding Sheet?
+    Where I to thee Eternitie shall giue,
+    When nothing else remayneth of these dayes,
+    And Queenes hereafter shall be glad to liue
+    Vpon the Almes of thy superfluous prayse;
+    Virgins and Matrons reading these my Rimes,
+    Shall be so much delighted with thy story,
+    That they shall grieve, they liu'd not in these Times,
+    To haue seene thee, their Sexes onely glory:
+      So shalt thou flye aboue the vulgar Throng,
+      Still to suruiue in my immortall Song.
+
+
+8
+
+    There's nothing grieues me, but that Age should haste,
+    That in my dayes I may not see thee old,
+    That where those two deare sparkling Eyes are plac'd,
+    Onely two Loope-holes, then I might behold.
+    That louely, arched, yuorie, pollish'd Brow,
+    Defac'd with Wrinkles, that I might but see;
+    Thy daintie Hayre, so curl'd, and crisped now,
+    Like grizzled Mosse vpon some aged Tree;
+    Thy Cheeke, now flush with Roses, sunke, and leane,
+    Thy Lips, with age, as any Wafer thinne,
+    Thy Pearly teeth out of thy head so cleane,
+    That when thou feed'st, thy Nose shall touch thy Chinne:
+      These Lines that now thou scorn'st, which should delight thee,
+      Then would I make thee read, but to despight thee.
+
+
+15
+
+_His Remedie for Loue_
+
+    Since to obtaine thee, nothing me will sted,
+    I haue a Med'cine that shall cure my Loue,
+    The powder of her Heart dry'd, when she is dead,
+    That Gold nor Honour ne'r had power to moue;
+    Mix'd with her Teares, that ne'r her true-Loue crost,
+    Nor at Fifteene ne'r long'd to be a Bride,
+    Boyl'd with her Sighes, in giuing vp the Ghost,
+    That for her late deceased Husband dy'd;
+    Into the same then let a Woman breathe,
+    That being chid, did neuer word replie,
+    With one thrice-marry'd's Pray'rs, that did bequeath
+    A Legacie to stale Virginitie.
+      If this Receit haue not the pow'r to winne me,
+      Little Ile say, but thinke the Deuill's in me.
+
+
+21
+
+    A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,
+    (Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue)
+    Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,
+    To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue:
+    When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,
+    Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came;
+    Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot,
+    Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same:
+    But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,
+    Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.
+    But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne,
+    And ransacke all APOLLO'S golden Treasure;
+      Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines,
+      And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.
+
+
+27
+
+    Is not Loue here, as 'tis in other Clymes,
+    And diff'reth it, as doe the seu'rall Nations?
+    Or hath it lost the Vertue, with the Times,
+    Or in this land alt'reth with the Fashions?
+    Or haue our Passions lesser pow'r then theirs,
+    Who had lesse Art them liuely to expresse?
+    Is Nature growne lesse pow'rfull in their Heires,
+    Or in our Fathers did the more transgresse?
+    I am sure my Sighes come from a Heart as true,
+    As any Mans, that Memory can boast,
+    And my Respects and Seruices to you
+    Equall with his, that loues his Mistris most:
+      Or Nature must be partiall in my Cause,
+      Or onely you doe violate her Lawes.
+
+
+36
+
+_Cupid coniured_
+
+    Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast been so slacke
+    To wound her Heart, whose Eyes haue wounded me,
+    And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,
+    Thus to my aid, I lastly coniure thee;
+    By Hellish _Styx_ (by which the THUND'RER sweares)
+    By thy faire Mothers vnauoided Power,
+    By HECAT'S Names, by PROSERPINE'S sad Teares,
+    When she was rapt to the infernall Bower,
+    By thine own loued PSYCHES, by the Fires
+    Spent on thine Altars, flaming vp to Heau'n;
+    By all the Louers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,
+    By all the Wounds that euer thou hast giu'n;
+      I coniure thee by all that I haue nam'd,
+      To make her loue, or CUPID be thou damn'd.
+
+
+48
+
+    Cupid, I hate thee, which I'de haue thee know,
+    A naked Starueling euer may'st thou be,
+    Poore Rogue, goe pawne thy _Fascia_ and thy Bow,
+    For some few Ragges, wherewith to couer thee;
+    Or if thou'lt not, thy Archerie forbeare,
+    To some base Rustick doe thy selfe preferre,
+    And when Corne's sowne, or growne into the Eare,
+    Practise thy Quiuer, and turne Crow-keeper;
+    Or being Blind (as fittest for the Trade)
+    Goe hyre thy selfe some bungling Harpers Boy;
+    They that are blind, are Minstrels often made,
+    So may'st thou liue, to thy faire Mothers Ioy:
+      That whilst with MARS she holdeth her old way,
+      Thou, her Blind Sonne, may'st sit by them, and play.
+
+
+52
+
+    What dost thou meane to Cheate me of my Heart,
+    To take all Mine, and giue me none againe?
+    Or haue thine Eyes such Magike, or that Art,
+    That what They get, They euer doe retaine?
+    Play not the Tyrant, but take some Remorse,
+    Rebate thy Spleene, if but for Pitties sake;
+    Or Cruell, if thou can'st not; let vs scorse,
+    And for one Piece of Thine, my whole heart take.
+    But what of Pitty doe I speake to Thee,
+    Whose Brest is proofe against Complaint or Prayer?
+    Or can I thinke what my Reward shall be
+    From that proud Beauty, which was my betrayer?
+      What talke I of a Heart, when thou hast none?
+      Or if thou hast, it is a flinty one.
+
+
+61
+
+    Since there 's no helpe, Come let vs kisse and part,
+    Nay, I haue done: You get no more of Me,
+    And I am glad, yea glad withall my heart,
+    That thus so cleanly, I my Selfe can free,
+    Shake hands for euer, Cancell all our Vowes,
+    And when we meet at any time againe,
+    Be it not scene in either of our Browes,
+    That We one iot of former Loue reteyne;
+    Now at the last gaspe of Loues latest Breath,
+    When his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,
+    When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death,
+    And Innocence is closing vp his Eyes,
+      Now if thou would'st, when all haue giuen him ouer,
+      From Death to Life, thou might'st him yet recouer.
+
+
+
+
+ODES
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+
+TO HIMSELFE AND THE HARPE
+
+                    And why not I, as hee
+                    That's greatest, if as free,
+                      (In sundry strains that striue,
+                    Since there so many be)
+                      Th' old _Lyrick_ kind reuiue?
+
+                    I will, yea, and I may;
+                    Who shall oppose my way?
+                      For what is he alone,
+                    That of himselfe can say,
+                      Hee's Heire of _Helicon_?                       10
+
+                    APOLLO, and the Nine,
+                    Forbid no Man their Shrine,
+                      That commeth with hands pure;
+                    Else be they so diuine,
+                      They will not him indure.
+
+                    For they be such coy Things,
+                    That they care not for Kings,
+                      And dare let them know it;
+                    Nor may he touch their Springs,
+                      That is not borne a Poet.                       20
+
+Pyreneus, _King     The _Phocean_ it did proue,
+of_ Phocis,         Whom when foule Lust did moue,
+_attempting to        Those Mayds vnchast to make,
+rauish the Muses._  Fell, as with them he stroue,
+                    His Neck and iustly brake.
+
+                    That instrument ne'r heard,
+                    Strooke by the skilfull Bard,
+                      It strongly to awake;
+                    But it th' infernalls skard,
+                      And made Olympus quake.                         30
+
+Sam. lib. 1.        As those Prophetike strings
+cap. 16.            Whose sounds with fiery Wings,
+                      Draue Fiends from their abode,
+                    Touch'd by the best of Kings,
+                      That sang the holy Ode.
+
+Orpheus _the_       So his, which Women slue,
+Thracian _Poet_.    And it int' Hebrus threw,
+Caput, Hebre,         Such sounds yet forth it sent,
+lyramque Excipis.   The Bankes to weepe that drue,
+&c. Ouid. lib. 11.    As downe the streame it went.                   40
+Metam.
+Mercury _inuentor   That by the Tortoyse shell,
+of the Harpe, as_   To MAYAS Sonne it fell,
+Horace Ode 10.        The most thereof not doubt
+lib. 1. _curuaq;    But sure some Power did dwell,
+lyra parentẽ_.        In Him who found it out.
+
+Thebes _fayned      The Wildest of the field,
+to haue beene       And Ayre, with Riuers t' yeeld,
+raysed by             Which mou'd; that sturdy Glebes,
+Musicke._           And massie Oakes could weeld,
+                      To rayse the pyles of _Thebes_.                 50
+
+                    And diuersly though Strung,
+                    So anciently We sung,
+                      To it, that Now scarce knowne,
+                    If first it did belong
+                      To _Greece_, or if our Owne.
+
+_The ancient_       The _Druydes_ imbrew'd,
+British _Priests_   With Gore, on Altars rude
+so called of          With Sacrifices crown'd,
+their abode in      In hollow Woods bedew'd,
+woods.                Ador'd the Trembling sound.                     60
+
+Pindar _Prince of   Though wee be All to seeke,
+the_ Greeke         Of PINDAR that Great _Greeke_,
+lyricks, _of whom_    To Finger it aright,
+Horace: Pindarum    The Soule with power to strike,
+quisquis studet,      His hand retayn'd such Might.
+&c. Ode 2. lib. 4.
+Horace _first of    Or him that _Rome_ did grace
+the_ Romans _in     Whose Ayres we all imbrace,
+that kind_.           That scarcely found his Peere,
+                    Nor giueth PHŒBVS place,
+                      For Strokes diuinely cleere.                    70
+
+_The_ Irish         The _Irish_ I admire,
+_Harpe_.            And still cleaue to that Lyre,
+                      As our Musike's Mother,
+                    And thinke, till I expire,
+                      APOLLO'S such another.
+
+                    As _Britons_, that so long
+                    Haue held this Antike Song,
+                      And let all our Carpers
+                    Forbeare their fame to wrong,
+                      Th' are right skilfull Harpers.                 80
+
+Southerne, _an_     _Southerne_, I long thee spare,
+English _Lyrick_.   Yet wish thee well to fare,
+                      Who me pleased'st greatly,
+                    As first, therefore more rare,
+                      Handling thy Harpe neatly.
+
+                    To those that with despight
+                    Shall terme these Numbers slight,
+                      Tell them their Iudgement's blind,
+                    Much erring from the right,
+                      It is a Noble kind.                             90
+
+_An old_ English    Nor is 't the Verse doth make,
+_Rymer_.            That giueth, or doth take,
+                      'Tis possible to clyme,
+                    To kindle, or to slake,
+                      Although in SKELTON'S Ryme.
+
+
+TO THE NEW YEERE
+
+    Rich Statue, double-faced,
+    With Marble Temples graced,
+      To rayse thy God-head hyer,
+    In flames where Altars shining,
+    Before thy Priests diuining,
+      Doe od'rous Fumes expire.
+
+    Great IANVS, I thy pleasure,
+    With all the _Thespian_ treasure,
+      Doe seriously pursue;
+    To th' passed yeere returning,                                    10
+    As though the old adiourning,
+      Yet bringing in the new.
+
+    Thy ancient Vigils yeerely,
+    I haue obserued cleerely,
+      Thy Feasts yet smoaking bee;
+    Since all thy store abroad is,
+    Giue something to my Goddesse,
+      As hath been vs'd by thee.
+
+    Giue her th' _Eoan_ brightnesse,
+    Wing'd with that subtill lightnesse,                              20
+      That doth trans-pierce the Ayre;
+    The Roses of the Morning
+    The rising Heau'n adorning,
+      To mesh with flames of Hayre.
+
+    Those ceaselesse Sounds, aboue all,
+    Made by those Orbes that moue all,
+      And euer swelling there,
+    Wrap'd vp in Numbers flowing,
+    Them actually bestowing,
+      For Iewels at her Eare.                                         30
+
+    O Rapture great and holy,
+    Doe thou transport me wholly,
+      So well her forme to vary,
+    That I aloft may beare her,
+    Whereas I will insphere her,
+      In Regions high and starry.
+
+    And in my choise Composures,
+    The soft and easie Closures,
+      So amorously shall meet;
+    That euery liuely Ceasure                                         40
+    Shall tread a perfect Measure
+      Set on so equall feet.
+
+    That Spray to fame so fertle,
+    The Louer-crowning Mirtle,
+      In Wreaths of mixed Bowes,
+    Within whose shades are dwelling
+    Those Beauties most excelling,
+      Inthron'd vpon her Browes.
+
+    Those Paralels so euen,
+    Drawne on the face of Heauen,                                     50
+      That curious Art supposes,
+    Direct those Gems, whose cleerenesse
+    Farre off amaze by neerenesse,
+      Each Globe such fire incloses.
+
+    Her Bosome full of Blisses,
+    By Nature made for Kisses,
+      So pure and wond'rous cleere,
+    Whereas a thousand Graces
+    Behold their louely Faces,
+      As they are bathing there.                                      60
+
+    O, thou selfe-little blindnesse,
+    The kindnesse of vnkindnesse,
+      Yet one of those diuine;
+    Thy Brands to me were leuer,
+    Thy _Fascia_, and thy Quiuer,
+      And thou this Quill of mine.
+
+    This Heart so freshly bleeding,
+    Vpon it owne selfe feeding,
+      Whose woundes still dropping be;
+    O Loue, thy selfe confounding,                                    70
+    Her coldnesse so abounding,
+      And yet such heat in me.
+
+    Yet if I be inspired,
+    Ile leaue thee so admired,
+      To all that shall succeed,
+    That were they more then many,
+    'Mongst all, there is not any,
+      That Time so oft shall read.
+
+    Nor Adamant ingraued,
+    That hath been choisely 'st saued,                                80
+      IDEA'S Name out-weares;
+    So large a Dower as this is,
+    The greatest often misses,
+      The Diadem that beares.
+
+
+TO HIS VALENTINE
+
+    Muse, bid the Morne awake,
+      Sad Winter now declines,
+    Each Bird doth chuse a Make,
+      This day 's Saint VALENTINE'S;
+    For that good Bishop's sake
+    Get vp, and let vs see,
+    What Beautie it shall bee,
+      That Fortune vs assignes.
+
+    But lo, in happy How'r,
+      The place wherein she lyes,                                     10
+    In yonder climbing Tow'r,
+      Gilt by the glitt'ring Rise;
+    O IOVE! that in a Show'r,
+    As once that Thund'rer did,
+    When he in drops lay hid,
+      That I could her surprize.
+
+    Her Canopie Ile draw,
+      With spangled Plumes bedight,
+    No Mortall euer saw
+      So rauishing a sight;                                           20
+    That it the Gods might awe,
+    And pow'rfully trans-pierce
+    The Globie Vniuerse,
+      Out-shooting eu'ry Light.
+
+    My Lips Ile softly lay
+      Vpon her heau'nly Cheeke,
+    Dy'd like the dawning Day,
+      As polish'd Iuorie sleeke:
+    And in her Eare Ile say;
+    O, thou bright Morning-Starre,                                    30
+    'Tis I that come so farre,
+      My Valentine to seeke.
+
+    Each little Bird, this Tyde,
+      Doth chuse her loued Pheere,
+    Which constantly abide
+      In Wedlock all the yeere,
+    As Nature is their Guide:
+    So may we two be true,
+    This yeere, nor change for new,
+      As Turtles coupled were.                                        40
+
+    The Sparrow, Swan, the Doue,
+      Though VENVS Birds they be,
+    Yet are they not for Loue
+      So absolute as we:
+    For Reason vs doth moue;
+    They but by billing woo:
+    Then try what we can doo,
+      To whom each sense is free.
+
+    Which we haue more then they,
+      By liuelyer Organs sway'd,                                      50
+    Our Appetite each way
+      More by our Sense obay'd:
+    Our Passions to display,
+    This Season vs doth fit;
+    Then let vs follow it,
+      As Nature vs doth lead.
+
+    One Kisse in two let's breake,
+      Confounded with the touch,
+    But halfe words let vs speake,
+      Our Lip's imploy'd so much,                                     60
+    Vntill we both grow weake,
+    With sweetnesse of thy breath;
+    O smother me to death:
+      Long let our Ioyes be such.
+
+    Let's laugh at them that chuse
+      Their Valentines by lot,
+    To weare their Names that vse,
+      Whom idly they haue got:
+    Such poore choise we refuse,
+    Saint VALENTINE befriend;                                         70
+    We thus this Morne may spend,
+      Else Muse, awake her not.
+
+
+THE HEART
+
+    If thus we needs must goe,
+    What shall our one Heart doe,
+    This One made of our Two?
+
+    Madame, two Hearts we brake,
+    And from them both did take
+    The best, one Heart to make.
+
+    Halfe this is of your Heart,
+    Mine in the other part,
+    Ioyn'd by our equall Art.
+
+    Were it cymented, or sowne,                                       10
+    By Shreds or Pieces knowne,
+    We each might find our owne.
+
+    But 'tis dissolu'd, and fix'd,
+    And with such cunning mix'd,
+    No diffrence that betwixt.
+
+    But how shall we agree,
+    By whom it kept shall be,
+    Whether by you, or me?
+
+    It cannot two Brests fill,
+    One must be heartlesse still,                                     20
+    Vntill the other will.
+
+    It came to me one day,
+    When I will'd it to say,
+    With whether it would stay?
+
+    It told me, in your Brest,
+    Where it might hope to rest:
+    For if it were my Ghest,
+
+    For certainety it knew,
+    That I would still anew
+    Be sending it to you.                                             30
+
+    Neuer, I thinke, had two
+    Such worke, so much to doo,
+    A Vnitie to woo.
+
+    Yours was so cold and chaste,
+    Whilst mine with zeale did waste,
+    Like Fire with Water plac'd.
+
+    How did my Heart intreat,
+    How pant, how did it beat,
+    Till it could giue yours heat!
+
+    Till to that temper brought,                                      40
+    Through our perfection wrought,
+    That blessing eythers Thought.
+
+    In such a Height it lyes,
+    From this base Worlds dull Eyes,
+    That Heauen it not enuyes.
+
+    All that this Earth can show,
+    Our Heart shall not once know,
+    For it too vile and low.
+
+
+THE SACRIFICE TO APOLLO
+
+    Priests of APOLLO, sacred be the Roome,
+    For this learn'd Meeting: Let no barbarous Groome,
+          How braue soe'r he bee,
+          Attempt to enter;
+          But of the Muses free,
+          None here may venter;
+    This for the _Delphian_ Prophets is prepar'd:
+    The prophane Vulgar are from hence debar'd.
+
+    And since the Feast so happily begins,
+    Call vp those faire Nine, with their Violins;                     10
+          They are begot by IOVE,
+          Then let vs place them,
+          Where no Clowne in may shoue,
+          That may disgrace them:
+    But let them neere to young APOLLO sit;
+    So shall his Foot-pace ouer-flow with Wit.
+
+    Where be the Graces, where be those fayre Three?
+    In any hand they may not absent bee:
+          They to the Gods are deare,
+          And they can humbly                                         20
+          Teach vs, our Selues to beare,
+          And doe things comely:
+    They, and the Muses, rise both from one Stem,
+    They grace the Muses, and the Muses them.
+
+    Bring forth your Flaggons (fill'd with sparkling Wine)
+    Whereon swolne BACCHVS, crowned with a Vine,
+          Is grauen, and fill out,
+          It well bestowing,
+          To eu'ry Man about,
+          In Goblets flowing:                                         30
+    Let not a Man drinke, but in Draughts profound;
+    To our God PHŒBVS let the Health goe Round.
+
+    Let your Iests flye at large; yet therewithall
+    See they be Salt, but yet not mix'd with Gall:
+          Not tending to disgrace,
+          But fayrely giuen,
+          Becomming well the place,
+          Modest, and euen;
+    That they with tickling Pleasure may prouoke
+    Laughter in him, on whom the Iest is broke.                       40
+
+    Or if the deeds of HEROES ye rehearse,
+    Let them be sung in so well-ord'red Verse,
+          That each word haue his weight,
+          Yet runne with pleasure;
+          Holding one stately height,
+          In so braue measure,
+    That they may make the stiffest Storme seeme weake,
+    And dampe IOVES Thunder, when it lowd'st doth speake.
+
+    And if yee list to exercise your Vayne,
+    Or in the Sock, or in the Buskin'd Strayne,                       50
+          Let Art and Nature goe
+          One with the other;
+          Yet so, that Art may show
+          Nature her Mother;
+    The thick-brayn'd Audience liuely to awake,
+    Till with shrill Claps the Theater doe shake.
+
+    Sing Hymnes to BACCHVS then, with hands vprear'd,
+    Offer to IOVE, who most is to be fear'd;
+          From him the Muse we haue,
+          From him proceedeth                                         60
+          More then we dare to craue;
+          'Tis he that feedeth
+    Them, whom the World would starue; then let the Lyre
+    Sound, whilst his Altars endlesse flames expire.
+
+
+TO CVPID
+
+    Maydens, why spare ye?
+    Or whether not dare ye
+      Correct the blind Shooter?
+    Because wanton VENVS,
+    So oft that doth paine vs,
+      Is her Sonnes Tutor.
+
+    Now in the Spring,
+    He proueth his Wing,
+      The Field is his Bower,
+    And as the small Bee,                                             10
+    About flyeth hee,
+      From Flower to Flower.
+
+    And wantonly roues,
+    Abroad in the Groues,
+      And in the Ayre houers,
+    Which when it him deweth,
+    His Fethers he meweth,
+      In sighes of true Louers.
+
+    And since doom'd by Fate,
+    (That well knew his Hate)                                         20
+      That Hee should be blinde;
+    For very despite,
+    Our Eyes be his White,
+      So wayward his kinde.
+
+    If his Shafts loosing,
+    (Ill his Mark choosing)
+      Or his Bow broken;
+    The Moane VENVS maketh,
+    And care that she taketh,
+      Cannot be spoken.                                               30
+
+    To VULCAN commending
+    Her loue, and straight sending
+      Her Doues and her Sparrowes,
+    With Kisses vnto him,
+    And all but to woo him,
+      To make her Sonne Arrowes.
+
+    Telling what he hath done,
+    (Sayth she, Right mine owne Sonne)
+      In her Armes she him closes,
+    Sweetes on him fans,                                              40
+    Layd in Downe of her Swans,
+      His Sheets, Leaues of Roses.
+
+    And feeds him with Kisses;
+    Which oft when he misses,
+      He euer is froward:
+    The Mothers o'r-ioying,
+    Makes by much coying,
+      The Child so vntoward.
+
+    Yet in a fine Net,
+    That a Spider set,                                                50
+      The Maydens had caught him;
+    Had she not beene neere him,
+    And chanced to heare him,
+      More good they had taught him.
+
+
+AN AMOVRET ANACREONTICK
+
+    Most good, most faire,
+    Or Thing as rare,
+    To call you's lost;
+    For all the cost
+    Words can bestow,
+    So poorely show
+    Vpon your prayse,
+    That all the wayes
+    Sense hath, come short:
+    Whereby Report                                                    10
+    Falls them vnder;
+    That when Wonder
+    More hath seyzed,
+    Yet not pleased,
+    That it in kinde
+    Nothing can finde,
+    You to expresse:
+    Neuerthelesse,
+    As by Globes small,
+    This Mightie ALL                                                  20
+    Is shew'd, though farre
+    From Life, each Starre
+    A World being:
+    So wee seeing
+    You, like as that,
+    Onely trust what
+    Art doth vs teach;
+    And when I reach
+    At Morall Things,
+    And that my Strings                                               30
+    Grauely should strike,
+    Straight some mislike
+    Blotteth mine ODE.
+    As with the Loade,
+    The Steele we touch,
+    Forced ne'r so much,
+    Yet still remoues
+    To that it loues,
+    Till there it stayes;
+    So to your prayse                                                 40
+    I turne euer,
+    And though neuer
+    From you mouing,
+    Happie so louing.
+
+
+LOVES CONQVEST
+
+      Wer't granted me to choose,
+    How I would end my dayes;
+      Since I this life must loose,
+    It should be in Your praise;
+    For there is no Bayes
+      Can be set aboue you.
+
+      S' impossibly I loue You,
+    And for you sit so hie,
+      Whence none may remoue You
+    In my cleere Poesie,                                              10
+    That I oft deny
+      You so ample Merit.
+
+      The freedome of my Spirit
+    Maintayning (still) my Cause,
+      Your Sex not to inherit,
+    Vrging the _Salique_ Lawes;
+    But your Vertue drawes
+      From me euery due.
+
+      Thus still You me pursue,
+    That no where I can dwell,                                        20
+      By Feare made iust to You,
+    Who naturally rebell,
+    Of You that excell
+      That should I still Endyte,
+
+      Yet will You want some Ryte.
+    That lost in your high praise
+      I wander to and fro,
+    As seeing sundry Waies:
+    Yet which the right not know
+      To get out of this Maze.                                        30
+
+
+TO THE VIRIGINIAN VOYAGE
+
+    You braue Heroique minds,
+    Worthy your Countries Name;
+      That Honour still pursue,
+      Goe, and subdue,
+    Whilst loyt'ring Hinds
+    Lurke here at home, with shame.
+
+    _Britans_, you stay too long,
+    Quickly aboard bestow you,
+      And with a merry Gale
+      Swell your stretch'd Sayle,                                     10
+    With Vowes as strong,
+    As the Winds that blow you.
+
+    Your Course securely steere,
+    West and by South forth keepe,
+      Rocks, Lee-shores, nor Sholes,
+      When EOLVS scowles,
+    You need not feare,
+    So absolute the Deepe.
+
+    And cheerefully at Sea,
+    Successe you still intice,                                        20
+      To get the Pearle and Gold,
+      And ours to hold,
+    VIRGINIA,
+    Earth's onely Paradise.
+
+    Where Nature hath in store
+    Fowle, Venison, and Fish,
+      And the Fruitfull'st Soyle,
+      Without your Toyle,
+    Three Haruests more,
+    All greater then your Wish.                                       30
+
+    And the ambitious Vine
+    Crownes with his purple Masse,
+      The cedar reaching hie
+      To kisse the Sky
+    The Cypresse, Pine
+    And vse-full Sassafras.
+
+    To whome, the golden Age
+    Still Natures lawes doth giue,
+      No other Cares that tend,
+      But Them to defend                                              40
+    From Winters rage,
+    That long there doth not liue.
+
+    When as the Lushious smell
+    Of that delicious Land,
+      Aboue the Seas that flowes,
+      The cleere Wind throwes,
+    Your Hearts to swell
+    Approaching the deare Strande.
+
+    In kenning of the Shore
+    (Thanks to God first giuen,)                                      50
+      O you the happy'st men,
+      Be Frolike then,
+    Let Cannons roare,
+    Frighting the wide Heauen.
+
+    And in Regions farre
+    Such Heroes bring yee foorth,
+      As those from whom We came,
+      And plant Our name,
+    Vnder that Starre
+    Not knowne vnto our North.                                        60
+
+    And as there Plenty growes
+    Of Lawrell euery where,
+      APOLLO'S Sacred tree,
+      You may it see,
+    A Poets Browes
+    To crowne, that may sing there.
+
+    Thy Voyages attend,
+    Industrious HACKLVIT,
+      Whose Reading shall inflame
+      Men to seeke Fame,                                              70
+    And much commend
+    To after-Times thy Wit.
+
+
+AN ODE WRITTEN IN THE PEAKE
+
+    This while we are abroad,
+      Shall we not touch our Lyre?
+    Shall we not sing an ODE?
+      Shall that holy Fire,
+    In vs that strongly glow'd,
+      In this cold Ayre expire?
+
+    Long since the Summer layd
+      Her lustie Brau'rie downe,
+    The Autumne halfe is way'd,
+      And BOREAS 'gins to frowne,                                     10
+    Since now I did behold
+      Great BRVTES first builded Towne.
+
+    Though in the vtmost _Peake_,
+      A while we doe remaine,
+    Amongst the Mountaines bleake
+      Expos'd to Sleet and Raine,
+    No Sport our Houres shall breake,
+      To exercise our Vaine.
+
+    What though bright PHŒBVS Beames
+      Refresh the Southerne Ground,                                   20
+    And though the Princely _Thames_
+      With beautious Nymphs abound,
+    And by old _Camber's_ Streames
+      Be many Wonders found;
+
+    Yet many Riuers cleare
+      Here glide in Siluer Swathes,
+    And what of all most deare,
+      _Buckston's_ delicious Bathes,
+    Strong Ale and Noble Cheare,
+      T' asswage breeme Winters scathes.                              30
+
+    Those grim and horrid Caues,
+      Whose Lookes affright the day,
+    Wherein nice Nature saues,
+      What she would not bewray,
+    Our better leasure craues,
+      And doth inuite our Lay.
+
+    In places farre or neere,
+      Or famous, or obscure,
+    Where wholesome is the Ayre,
+      Or where the most impure,                                       40
+    All times, and euery-where,
+      The Muse is still in vre.
+
+
+HIS DEFENCE AGAINST THE IDLE CRITICK
+
+    The Ryme nor marres, nor makes,
+    Nor addeth it, nor takes,
+      From that which we propose;
+    Things imaginarie
+    Doe so strangely varie,
+      That quickly we them lose.
+
+    And what 's quickly begot,
+    As soone againe is not,
+      This doe I truely know:
+    Yea, and what 's borne with paine,                                10
+    That Sense doth long'st retaine,
+      Gone with a greater Flow.
+
+    Yet this Critick so sterne,
+    But whom, none must discerne,
+      Nor perfectly haue seeing,
+    Strangely layes about him,
+    As nothing without him
+      Were worthy of being.
+
+    That I my selfe betray
+    To that most publique way,                                        20
+      Where the Worlds old Bawd,
+    Custome, that doth humor,
+    And by idle rumor,
+      Her Dotages applaud.
+
+    That whilst he still prefers
+    Those that be wholly hers,
+      Madnesse and Ignorance,
+    I creepe behind the Time,
+    From spertling with their Crime,
+      And glad too with my Chance.                                    30
+
+    O wretched World the while,
+    When the euill most vile,
+      Beareth the fayrest face,
+    And inconstant lightnesse,
+    With a scornefull slightnesse,
+      The best Things doth disgrace.
+
+    Whilst this strange knowing Beast,
+    Man, of himselfe the least,
+      His Enuie declaring,
+    Makes Vertue to descend,                                          40
+    Her title to defend,
+      Against him, much preparing.
+
+    Yet these me not delude,
+    Nor from my place extrude,
+      By their resolued Hate;
+    Their vilenesse that doe know;
+    Which to my selfe I show,
+      To keepe aboue my Fate.
+
+
+TO HIS RIVALL
+
+      Her lou'd I most,
+      By thee that 's lost,
+    Though she were wonne with leasure;
+      She was my gaine,
+      But to my paine,
+    Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.
+
+      The Ship full fraught
+      With Gold, farre sought,
+    Though ne'r so wisely helmed,
+      May suffer wracke                                               10
+      In sayling backe,
+    By Tempest ouer-whelmed.
+
+      But shee, good Sir,
+      Did not preferre
+    You, for that I was ranging;
+      But for that shee
+      Found faith in mee,
+    And she lou'd to be changing.
+
+      Therefore boast not
+      Your happy Lot,                                                 20
+    Be silent now you haue her;
+      The time I knew
+      She slighted you,
+    When I was in her fauour.
+
+      None stands so fast,
+      But may be cast
+    By Fortune, and disgraced:
+      Once did I weare
+      Her Garter there,
+    Where you her Gloue haue placed.                                  30
+
+      I had the Vow
+      That thou hast now,
+    And Glances to discouer
+      Her Loue to mee,
+      And she to thee
+    Reades but old Lessons ouer.
+
+      She hath no Smile
+      That can beguile,
+    But as my Thought I know it;
+      Yea, to a Hayre,                                                40
+      Both when and where,
+    And how she will bestow it.
+
+      What now is thine,
+      Was onely mine,
+    And first to me was giuen;
+      Thou laugh'st at mee,
+      I laugh at thee,
+    And thus we two are euen.
+
+      But Ile not mourne,
+      But stay my Turne,                                              50
+    The Wind may come about, Sir,
+      And once againe
+      May bring me in,
+    And help to beare you out, Sir.
+
+
+A SKELTONIAD
+
+    The Muse should be sprightly,
+    Yet not handling lightly
+    Things graue; as much loath,
+    Things that be slight, to cloath
+    Curiously: To retayne
+    The Comelinesse in meane,
+    Is true Knowledge and Wit.
+    Not me forc'd Rage doth fit,
+    That I thereto should lacke
+    Tabacco, or need Sacke,                                           10
+    Which to the colder Braine
+    Is the true _Hyppocrene_;
+    Nor did I euer care
+    For great Fooles, nor them spare.
+    Vertue, though neglected,
+    Is not so deiected,
+    As vilely to descend
+    To low Basenesse their end;
+    Neyther each ryming Slaue
+    Deserues the Name to haue                                         20
+    Of Poet: so the Rabble
+    Of Fooles, for the Table,
+    That haue their Iests by Heart,
+    As an Actor his Part,
+    Might assume them Chayres
+    Amongst the Muses Heyres.
+    _Parnassus_ is not clome
+    By euery such Mome;
+    Vp whose steep side who swerues,
+    It behoues t' haue strong Nerues:                                 30
+    My Resolution such,
+    How well, and not how much
+    To write, thus doe I fare,
+    Like some few good that care
+    (The euill sort among)
+    How well to liue, and not how long.
+
+
+THE CRYER
+
+      Good Folke, for Gold or Hyre,
+      But helpe me to a Cryer;
+    For my poore Heart is runne astray
+    After two Eyes, that pass'd this way.
+        O yes, O yes, O yes,
+        If there be any Man,
+        In Towne or Countrey, can
+        Bring me my Heart againe,
+        Ile please him for his paine;
+    And by these Marks I will you show,                               10
+    That onely I this Heart doe owe.
+        It is a wounded Heart,
+        Wherein yet sticks the Dart,
+      Eu'ry piece sore hurt throughout it,
+      Faith, and Troth, writ round about it:
+    It was a tame Heart, and a deare,
+        And neuer vs'd to roame;
+    But hauing got this Haunt, I feare
+        'Twill hardly stay at home.
+    For Gods sake, walking by the way,                                20
+        If you my Heart doe see,
+    Either impound it for a Stray,
+        Or send it backe to me.
+
+
+TO HIS COY LOVE
+
+A CANZONET
+
+    I pray thee leaue, loue me no more,
+      Call home the Heart you gaue me,
+    I but in vaine that Saint adore,
+      That can, but will not saue me:
+    These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;
+      Was euer man thus serued?
+    Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
+      For Pleasure to be sterued.
+
+    Shew me no more those Snowie Brests,
+      With Azure Riuerets branched,                                   10
+    Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
+      Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
+    O TANTALVS, thy Paines n'er tell,
+      By me thou art preuented;
+    'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,
+      But thus in Heauen tormented.
+
+    Clip me no more in those deare Armes,
+      Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;
+    O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,
+      And doe but more inthrall me.                                   20
+    But see, how patient I am growne,
+      In all this coyle about thee;
+    Come nice thing, let my Heart alone,
+      I cannot liue without thee.
+
+
+A HYMNE TO HIS LADIES BIRTH-PLACE
+
+                      Couentry, that do'st adorne
+                    The Countrey wherein I was borne,
+                    Yet therein lyes not thy prayse
+                    Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs with Bayes:
+_Couentry finely    'Tis not thy Wall, me to thee weds
+walled._            Thy Ports, nor thy proud Pyrameds,
+_The Shoulder-bone  Nor thy Trophies of the Bore,
+of a hare of        But that Shee which I adore,
+mighty bignesse._   Which scarce Goodnesse selfe can payre,
+                    First their breathing blest thy Ayre;             10
+                    IDEA, in which Name I hide
+                    Her, in my heart Deifi'd,
+                    For what good, Man's mind can see,
+                    Onely her IDEAS be;
+                    She, in whom the Vertues came
+                    In Womans shape, and tooke her Name,
+                    She so farre past Imitation,
+                    As but Nature our Creation
+                    Could not alter, she had aymed,
+                    More then Woman to haue framed:                   20
+                    She, whose truely written Story,
+                    To thy poore Name shall adde more glory,
+                    Then if it should haue beene thy Chance,
+                    T' haue bred our Kings that Conquer'd _France_.
+                    Had She beene borne the former Age,
+_Two famous         That house had beene a Pilgrimage,
+Pilgrimages, the    And reputed more Diuine,
+one in_ Norfolk,    Then _Walsingham_ or BECKETS Shrine.
+_the other in_        That Princesse, to whom thou do'st owe
+Kent.               Thy Freedome, whose Cleere blushing snow,         30
+Godiua, _Duke_      The enuious Sunne saw, when as she
+Leofricks _wife,    Naked rode to make Thee free,
+who obtained the    Was but her Type, as to foretell,
+Freedome of the     Thou should'st bring forth one, should excell
+city, of her        Her Bounty, by whom thou should'st haue
+husband, by riding  More Honour, then she Freedome gaue;
+thorow it naked._   And that great Queene, which but of late
+_Queene_            Rul'd this Land in Peace and State,
+Elizabeth.          Had not beene, but Heauen had sworne,
+                    A Maide should raigne, when she was borne.        40
+_A noted Streete      Of thy Streets, which thou hold'st best,
+in_ Couentry.       And most frequent of the rest,
+                    Happy _Mich-Parke_ eu'ry yeere,
+_His Mistresse      On the fourth of _August_ there,
+birth-day._         Let thy Maides from FLORA'S bowers,
+                    With their Choyce and daintiest flowers
+                    Decke Thee vp, and from their store,
+                    With braue Garlands crowne that dore.
+                    The old Man passing by that way,
+                    To his Sonne in time shall say,                   50
+                    There was that Lady borne, which long
+                    To after-Ages shall be sung;
+                    Who vnawares being passed by,
+                    Back to that House shall cast his Eye,
+                    Speaking my Verses as he goes,
+                    And with a Sigh shut eu'ry Close.
+                      Deare Citie, trauelling by thee,
+                    When thy rising Spyres I see,
+                    Destined her place of Birth;
+                    Yet me thinkes the very Earth                     60
+                    Hallowed is, so farre as I
+                    Can thee possibly descry:
+                    Then thou dwelling in this place,
+                    Hearing some rude Hinde disgrace
+                    Thy Citie with some scuruy thing,
+                    Which some Iester forth did bring,
+                    Speake these Lines where thou do'st come,
+                    And strike the Slaue for euer dumbe.
+
+
+TO THE CAMBRO-BRITANS and their Harpe, his Ballad of
+AGINCOVRT
+
+    Faire stood the Wind for _France_,
+    When we our Sayles aduance,
+    Nor now to proue our chance,
+        Longer will tarry;
+    But putting to the Mayne,
+    At _Kaux_, the Mouth of _Sene_,
+    With all his Martiall Trayne,
+        Landed King HARRY.
+
+    And taking many a Fort,
+    Furnish'd in Warlike sort,                                        10
+    Marcheth tow'rds _Agincourt_,
+        In happy howre;
+    Skirmishing day by day,
+    With those that stop'd his way,
+    Where the _French_ Gen'rall lay,
+        With all his Power.
+
+    Which in his Hight of Pride,
+    King HENRY to deride,
+    His Ransome to prouide
+        To the King sending.                                          20
+    Which he neglects the while,
+    As from a Nation vile,
+    Yet with an angry smile,
+        Their fall portending.
+
+    And turning to his Men,
+    Quoth our braue HENRY then,
+    Though they to one be ten,
+        Be not amazed.
+    Yet haue we well begunne,
+    Battels so brauely wonne,                                         30
+    Haue euer to the Sonne,
+        By Fame beene raysed.
+
+    And, for my Selfe (quoth he),
+    This my full rest shall be,
+    _England_ ne'r mourne for Me,
+        Nor more esteeme me.
+    Victor I will remaine,
+    Or on this Earth lie slaine,
+    Neuer shall Shee sustaine,
+        Losse to redeeme me.                                          40
+
+    _Poiters_ and _Cressy_ tell,
+    When most their Pride did swell,
+    Vnder our Swords they fell,
+        No lesse our skill is,
+    Than when our Grandsire Great,
+    Clayming the Regall Seate,
+    By many a Warlike feate,
+        Lop'd the _French_ Lillies.
+
+    The Duke of _Yorke_ so dread,
+    The eager Vaward led;                                             50
+    With the maine, HENRY sped,
+        Among'st his Hench-men.
+    EXCESTER had the Rere,
+    A Brauer man not there,
+    O Lord, how hot they were,
+        On the false _French-men_!
+
+    They now to fight are gone,
+    Armour on Armour shone,
+    Drumme now to Drumme did grone,
+        To heare, was wonder;                                         60
+    That with the Cryes they make,
+    The very Earth did shake,
+    Trumpet to Trumpet spake,
+        Thunder to Thunder.
+
+    Well it thine Age became,
+    O Noble ERPINGHAM,
+    Which didst the Signall ayme,
+        To our hid Forces;
+    When from a Medow by,
+    Like a Storme suddenly,                                           70
+    The _English_ Archery
+        Stuck the _French_ Horses,
+
+    With _Spanish_ Ewgh so strong,
+    Arrowes a Cloth-yard long,
+    That like to Serpents stung,
+        Piercing the Weather;
+    None from his fellow starts,
+    But playing Manly parts,
+    And like true _English_ hearts,
+        Stuck close together.                                         80
+
+    When downe their Bowes they threw,
+    And forth their Bilbowes drew,
+    And on the French they flew,
+        Not one was tardie;
+    Armes were from shoulders sent,
+    Scalpes to the Teeth were rent,
+    Downe the _French_ Pesants went,
+        Our Men were hardie.
+
+    This while our Noble King,
+    His broad Sword brandishing,                                      90
+    Downe the _French_ Hoast did ding,
+        As to o'r-whelme it;
+    And many a deepe Wound lent,
+    His Armes with Bloud besprent,
+    And many a cruell Dent
+        Bruised his Helmet.
+
+    GLOSTER, that Duke so good,
+    Next of the Royall Blood,
+    For famous _England_ stood,
+        With his braue Brother;                                      100
+    CLARENCE, in Steele so bright,
+    Though but a Maiden Knight,
+    Yet in that furious Fight,
+        Scarce such another,
+
+    WARWICK in Bloud did wade,
+    OXFORD the Foe inuade,
+    And cruell slaughter made,
+        Still as they ran vp;
+    SVFFOLKE his Axe did ply,
+    BEAVMONT and WILLOVGHBY                                          110
+    Bare them right doughtily,
+        FERRERS and FANHOPE.
+
+    Vpon Saint CRISPIN'S day
+    Fought was this Noble Fray,
+    Which Fame did not delay,
+        To _England_ to carry;
+    O, when shall _English_ Men
+    With such Acts fill a Pen,
+    Or _England_ breed againe,
+        Such a King HARRY?                                           120
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1606]
+
+
+_Ode 4_
+
+_To my worthy frend, Master John Sauage of the Inner Temple_
+
+    Vppon this sinfull earth
+    If man can happy be,
+    And higher then his birth,
+    (Frend) take him thus from me.
+
+    Whome promise not deceiues
+    That he the breach should rue,
+    Nor constant reason leaues
+    Opinion to pursue.
+
+    To rayse his mean estate
+    That sooths no wanton's sinne,                                    10
+    Doth that preferment hate
+    That virtue doth not winne.
+
+    Nor brauery doth admire,
+    Nor doth more loue professe
+    To that he doth desire,
+    Then that he doth possesse.
+
+    Loose humor nor to please,
+    That neither spares nor spends,
+    But by discretion weyes
+    What is to needfull ends.                                         20
+
+    To him deseruing not
+    Not yeelding, nor doth hould
+    What is not his, doing what
+    He ought not what he could.
+
+    Whome the base tyrants will
+    Soe much could neuer awe
+    As him for good or ill
+    From honesty to drawe.
+
+    Whose constancy doth rise
+    'Boue vndeserued spight                                           30
+    Whose valewr's to despise
+    That most doth him delight.
+
+    That earely leaue doth take
+    Of th' world though to his payne
+    For virtues onely sake
+    And not till need constrayne.
+
+    Noe man can be so free
+    Though in imperiall seate
+    Nor Eminent as he
+    That deemeth nothing greate.                                      40
+
+
+_Ode 8_
+
+    Singe wee the Rose
+    Then which no flower there growes
+      Is sweeter:
+    And aptly her compare
+    With what in that is rare
+      A parallel none meeter.
+
+    Or made poses,
+    Of this that incloses
+      Suche blisses,
+    That naturally flusheth                                           10
+    As she blusheth
+      When she is robd of kisses.
+
+    Or if strew'd
+    When with the morning dew'd
+      Or stilling,
+    Or howe to sense expos'd
+    All which in her inclos'd,
+      Ech place with sweetnes filling.
+
+    That most renown'd
+    By Nature richly crownd                                           20
+      With yellow,
+    Of that delitious layre
+    And as pure, her hayre
+      Vnto the same the fellowe,
+
+    Fearing of harme
+    Nature that flower doth arme
+      From danger,
+    The touch giues her offence
+    But with reuerence
+      Vnto her selfe a stranger.                                      30
+
+    That redde, or white,
+    Or mixt, the sence delyte
+      Behoulding,
+    In her complexion
+    All which perfection
+      Such harmony infouldinge.
+
+    That deuyded
+    Ere it was descided
+      Which most pure,
+    Began the greeuous war                                            40
+    Of _York_ and _Lancaster_,
+      That did many yeeres indure.
+
+    Conflicts as greate
+    As were in all that heate
+      I sustaine:
+    By her, as many harts
+    As men on either parts
+      That with her eies hath slaine.
+
+    The Primrose flower
+    The first of _Flora's_ bower                                      50
+      Is placed,
+    Soo is shee first as best
+    Though excellent the rest,
+      All gracing, by none graced.
+
+
+
+
+ELEGIES VPON SVNDRY OCCASIONS
+
+[from the Edition of 1627]
+
+
+Of his Ladies not Comming _to London_
+
+    That ten-yeares-trauell'd _Greeke_ return'd from Sea
+    Ne'r ioyd so much to see his _Ithaca_,
+    As I should you, who are alone to me,
+    More then wide _Greece_ could to that wanderer be.
+    The winter windes still Easterly doe keepe,
+    And with keene Frosts haue chained vp the deepe,
+    The Sunne's to vs a niggard of his Rayes,
+    But reuelleth with our _Antipodes_;
+    And seldome to vs when he shewes his head,
+    Muffled in vapours, he straight hies to bed.                      10
+    In those bleake mountaines can you liue where snowe
+    Maketh the vales vp to the hilles to growe;
+    Whereas mens breathes doe instantly congeale,
+    And attom'd mists turne instantly to hayle;
+    Belike you thinke, from this more temperate cost,
+    My sighes may haue the power to thawe the frost,
+    Which I from hence should swiftly send you thither,
+    Yet not so swift, as you come slowly hither.
+    How many a time, hath _Phebe_ from her wayne,
+    With _Phœbus_ fires fill'd vp her hornes againe;                  20
+    Shee through her Orbe, still on her course doth range,
+    But you keep yours still, nor for me will change.
+    The Sunne that mounted the sterne Lions back,
+    Shall with the Fishes shortly diue the Brack,
+    But still you keepe your station, which confines
+    You, nor regard him trauelling the signes.
+    Those ships which when you went, put out to Sea,
+    Both to our _Groenland_, and _Virginia_,
+    Are now return'd, and Custom'd haue their fraught,
+    Yet you arriue not, nor returne me ought.                         30
+      The Thames was not so frozen yet this yeare,
+    As is my bosome, with the chilly feare
+    Of your not comming, which on me doth light,
+    As on those Climes, where halfe the world is night.
+      Of euery tedious houre you haue made two,
+    All this long Winter here, by missing you:
+    Minutes are months, and when the houre is past,
+    A yeare is ended since the Clocke strooke last,
+    When your Remembrance puts me on the Racke,
+    And I should Swound to see an _Almanacke_,                        40
+    To reade what silent weekes away are slid,
+    Since the dire Fates you from my sight haue hid.
+      I hate him who the first Deuisor was
+    Of this same foolish thing, the Hower-glasse,
+    And of the Watch, whose dribbling sands and Wheele,
+    With their slow stroakes, make mee too much to feele
+    Your slackenesse hither, O how I doe ban,
+    Him that these Dialls against walles began,
+    Whose Snayly motion of the moouing hand,
+    (Although it goe) yet seeme to me to stand;                       50
+    As though at _Adam_ it had first set out
+    And had been stealing all this while about,
+    And when it backe to the first point should come,
+    It shall be then iust at the generall Doome.
+      The Seas into themselues retract their flowes.
+    The changing Winde from euery quarter blowes,
+    Declining Winter in the Spring doth call,
+    The Starrs rise to vs, as from vs they fall;
+    Those Birdes we see, that leaue vs in the Prime,
+    Againe in Autumne re-salute our Clime.                            60
+    Sure, either Nature you from kinde hath made,
+    Or you delight else to be Retrograde.
+      But I perceiue by your attractiue powers,
+    Like an Inchantresse you haue charm'd the bowers
+    Into short minutes, and haue drawne them back,
+    So that of vs at _London_, you doe lack
+    Almost a yeare, the Spring is scarce begonne
+    There where you liue, and Autumne almost done.
+    With vs more Eastward, surely you deuise,
+    By your strong Magicke, that the Sunne shall rise                 70
+    Where now it setts, and that in some few yeares
+    You'l alter quite the Motion of the Spheares.
+      Yes, and you meane, I shall complaine my loue
+    To grauell'd Walkes, or to a stupid Groue,
+    Now your companions; and that you the while
+    (As you are cruell) will sit by and smile,
+    To make me write to these, while Passers by,
+    Sleightly looke in your louely face, where I
+    See Beauties heauen, whilst silly blockheads, they
+    Like laden Asses, plod vpon their way,                            80
+    And wonder not, as you should point a Clowne
+    Vp to the _Guards_, or _Ariadnes_ Crowne;
+    Of Constellations, and his dulnesse tell.
+    Hee'd thinke your words were certainly a Spell;
+    Or him some piece from _Creet_, or _Marcus_ show,
+    In all his life which till that time ne'r saw
+    Painting: except in Alehouse or old Hall
+    Done by some Druzzler, of the Prodigall.
+      Nay doe, stay still, whilst time away shall steale
+    Your youth, and beautie, and your selfe conceale                  90
+    From me I pray you, you haue now inur'd
+    Me to your absence, and I haue endur'd
+    Your want this long, whilst I haue starued bine
+    For your short Letters, as you helde it sinne
+    To write to me, that to appease my woe,
+    I reade ore those, you writ a yeare agoe,
+    Which are to me, as though they had bin made,
+    Long time before the first _Olympiad_.
+      For thankes and curt'sies sell your presence then
+    To tatling Women, and to things like men,                        100
+    And be more foolish then the _Indians_ are
+    For Bells, for Kniues, for Glasses, and such ware,
+    That sell their Pearle and Gold, but here I stay,
+    So I would not haue you but come away.
+
+
+To Master GEORGE SANDYS
+
+_Treasurer for the English Colony in_ VIRGINIA
+
+      Friend, if you thinke my Papers may supplie
+    You, with some strange omitted Noueltie,
+    Which others Letters yet haue left vntould,
+    You take me off, before I can take hould
+    Of you at all; I put not thus to Sea,
+    For two monthes Voyage to _Virginia_,
+    With newes which now, a little something here,
+    But will be nothing ere it can come there.
+    I feare, as I doe Stabbing; this word, State,
+    I dare not speake of the _Palatinate_,                            10
+    Although some men make it their hourely theame,
+    And talke what's done in _Austria_, and in _Beame_,
+    I may not so; what _Spinola_ intends,
+    Nor with his _Dutch_, which way Prince _Maurice_ bends;
+    To other men, although these things be free,
+    Yet (GEORGE) they must be misteries to mee.
+      I scarce dare praise a vertuous friend that's dead,
+    Lest for my lines he should be censured;
+    It was my hap before all other men
+    To suffer shipwrack by my forward pen:                            20
+    When King IAMES entred; at which ioyfull time
+    I taught his title to this Ile in rime:
+    And to my part did all the Muses win,
+    With high-pitch _Pæans_ to applaud him in:
+    When cowardise had tyed vp euery tongue,
+    And all stood silent, yet for him I sung;
+    And when before by danger I was dar'd,
+    I kick'd her from me, nor a iot I spar'd.
+    Yet had not my cleere spirit in Fortunes scorne,
+    Me aboue earth and her afflictions borne;                         30
+    He next my God on whom I built my trust,
+    Had left me troden lower then the dust:
+    But let this passe; in the extreamest ill,
+    _Apollo's_ brood must be couragious still,
+    Let Pies, and Dawes, sit dumb before their death,
+    Onely the Swan sings at the parting breath.
+    And (worthy GEORGE) by industry and vse,
+    Let's see what lines _Virginia_ will produce;
+    Goe on with OVID, as you haue begunne,
+    With the first fiue Bookes; let your numbers run                  40
+    Glib as the former, so shall it liue long,
+    And doe much honour to the _English_ tongue:
+    Intice the Muses thither to repaire,
+    Intreat them gently, trayne them to that ayre,
+    For they from hence may thither hap to fly,
+    T'wards the sad time which but to fast doth hie,
+    For Poesie is follow'd with such spight,
+    By groueling drones that neuer raught her height,
+    That she must hence, she may no longer staye:
+    The driery fates prefixed haue the day,                           50
+    Of her departure, which is now come on,
+    And they command her straight wayes to be gon;
+    That bestiall heard so hotly her pursue,
+    And to her succour, there be very few,
+    Nay none at all, her wrongs that will redresse,
+    But she must wander in the wildernesse,
+    Like to the woman, which that holy IOHN
+    Beheld in _Pathmos_ in his vision.
+      As th' _English_ now, so did the stiff-neckt _Iewes_,
+    Their noble Prophets vtterly refuse,                              60
+    And of these men such poore opinions had;
+    They counted _Esay_ and _Ezechiel_ mad;
+    When _Ieremy_ his Lamentations writ,
+    They thought the Wizard quite out of his wit,
+    Such sots they were, as worthily to ly,
+    Lock't in the chaines of their captiuity,
+    Knowledge hath still her Eddy in her Flow,
+    So it hath beene, and it will still be so.
+      That famous _Greece_ where learning flourisht most,
+    Hath of her muses long since left to boast,                       70
+    Th' vnlettered _Turke_, and rude _Barbarian_ trades,
+    Where HOMER sang his lofty _Iliads_;
+    And this vaste volume of the world hath taught,
+    Much may to passe in little time be brought.
+      As if to _Symptoms_ we may credit giue,
+    This very time, wherein we two now liue,
+    Shall in the compasse, wound the Muses more,
+    Then all the old _English_ ignorance before;
+    Base Balatry is so belou'd and sought,
+    And those braue numbers are put by for naught,                    80
+    Which rarely read, were able to awake,
+    Bodyes from graues, and to the ground to shake
+    The wandring clouds, and to our men at armes,
+    'Gainst pikes and muskets were most powerfull charmes.
+    That, but I know, insuing ages shall,
+    Raise her againe, who now is in her fall;
+    And out of dust reduce our scattered rimes,
+    Th' reiected iewels of these slothfull times,
+    Who with the Muses would misspend an hower,
+    But let blind Gothish Barbarisme deuoure                          90
+    These feuerous Dogdays, blest by no record,
+    But to be euerlastingly abhord.
+      If you vouchsafe rescription, stuffe your quill
+    With naturall bountyes, and impart your skill,
+    In the description of the place, that I,
+    May become learned in the soyle thereby;
+    Of noble _Wyats_ health, and let me heare,
+    The Gouernour; and how our people there,
+    Increase and labour, what supplyes are sent,
+    Which I confesse shall giue me much content;                     100
+    But you may saue your labour if you please,
+    To write to me ought of your Sauages.
+    As sauage slaues be in great _Britaine_ here,
+    As any one that you can shew me there
+    And though for this, Ile say I doe not thirst,
+    Yet I should like it well to be the first,
+    Whose numbers hence into _Virginia_ flew,
+    So (noble _Sandis_) for this time adue.
+
+
+To my noble friend Master WILLIAM BROWNE, _of the euill time_
+
+              Deare friend, be silent and with patience see,
+            What this mad times Catastrophe will be;
+            The worlds first Wisemen certainly mistooke
+            Themselues, and spoke things quite beside the booke,
+            And that which they haue of said of God, vntrue,
+            Or else expect strange iudgement to insue.
+              This Isle is a meere Bedlam, and therein,
+            We all lye rauing, mad in euery sinne,
+            And him the wisest most men use to call,
+            Who doth (alone) the maddest thing of all;                10
+            He whom the master of all wisedome found,
+            For a marckt foole, and so did him propound,
+            The time we liue in, to that passe is brought,
+            That only he a Censor now is thought;
+            And that base villaine, (not an age yet gone,)
+            Which a good man would not haue look'd vpon;
+            Now like a God, with diuine worship follow'd,
+            And all his actions are accounted hollow'd.
+              This world of ours, thus runneth vpon wheeles,
+            Set on the head, bolt vpright with her heeles;            20
+            Which makes me thinke of what the _Ethnicks_ told
+            Th' opinion, the Pythagorists vphold,
+Wander      That the immortall soule doth transmigrate;
+From body   Then I suppose by the strong power of fate,
+to body.    And since that time now many a lingering yeare,
+            Through fools, and beasts, and lunatiques haue past,
+            Are heere imbodyed in this age at last,
+            And though so long we from that time be gone,
+            Yet taste we still of that confusion.
+            For certainely there's scarse one found that now,         30
+            Knowes what t' approoue, or what to disallow,
+            All arsey varsey, nothing is it's owne,
+            But to our prouerbe, all turnd vpside downe;
+            To doe in time, is to doe out of season,
+            And that speeds best, thats done the farth'st from reason,
+            Hee 's high'st that 's low'st, hee 's surest in that 's out,
+            He hits the next way that goes farth'st about,
+            He getteth vp vnlike to rise at all,
+            He slips to ground as much vnlike to fall;
+            Which doth inforce me partly to prefer,                   40
+_Zeno._     The opinion of that mad Philosopher,
+            Who taught, that those all-framing powers aboue,
+            (As 'tis suppos'd) made man not out of loue
+            To him at all, but only as a thing,
+            To make them sport with, which they vse to bring
+            As men doe munkeys, puppets, and such tooles
+            Of laughter: so men are but the Gods fooles.
+            Such are by titles lifted to the sky,
+            As wherefore no man knowes, God scarcely why;
+            The vertuous man depressed like a stone,                  50
+            For that dull Sot to raise himselfe vpon;
+            He who ne're thing yet worthy man durst doe,
+            Neuer durst looke vpon his countrey's foe,
+            Nor durst attempt that action which might get
+            Him fame with men: or higher might him set
+            Then the base begger (rightly if compar'd;)
+            This Drone yet neuer braue attempt that dar'd,
+            Yet dares be knighted, and from thence dares grow
+            To any title Empire can bestow;
+            For this beleeue, that Impudence is now                   60
+            A Cardinall vertue, and men it allow
+            Reuerence, nay more, men study and inuent
+            New wayes, nay, glory to be impudent.
+              Into the clouds the Deuill lately got,
+            And by the moisture doubting much the rot,
+            A medicine tooke to make him purge and cast;
+            Which in short time began to worke so fast,
+            That he fell too 't, and from his backeside flew,
+            A rout of rascall a rude ribauld crew
+            Of base Plebeians, which no sooner light,                 70
+            Vpon the earth, but with a suddaine flight,
+            They spread this Ile, and as _Deucalion_ once
+            Ouer his shoulder backe, by throwing stones
+            They became men, euen so these beasts became,
+            Owners of titles from an obscure name.
+              He that by riot, of a mighty rent,
+            Hath his late goodly Patrimony spent,
+            And into base and wilfull beggery run
+            This man as he some glorious acte had done,
+            With some great pension, or rich guift releeu'd,          80
+            When he that hath by industry atchieu'd
+            Some noble thing, contemned and disgrac'd,
+            In the forlorne hope of the times is plac'd,
+            As though that God had carelessely left all
+            That being hath on this terrestriall ball,
+            To fortunes guiding, nor would haue to doe
+            With man, nor aught that doth belong him to,
+            Or at the least God hauing giuen more
+            Power to the Deuill, then he did of yore,
+            Ouer this world: the feind as he doth hate                90
+            The vertuous man; maligning his estate,
+            All noble things, and would haue by his will,
+            To be damn'd with him, vsing all his skill,
+            By his blacke hellish ministers to vexe
+            All worthy men, and strangely to perplexe
+            Their constancie, there by them so to fright,
+            That they should yeeld them wholely to his might.
+            But of these things I vainely doe but tell,
+            Where hell is heauen, and heau'n is now turn'd hell;
+            Where that which lately blasphemy hath bin,              100
+            Now godlinesse, much lesse accounted sin;
+            And a long while I greatly meruail'd why
+            Buffoons and Bawdes should hourely multiply,
+            Till that of late I construed it that they
+            To present thrift had got the perfect way,
+            When I concluded by their odious crimes,
+            It was for vs no thriuing in these times.
+              As men oft laugh at little Babes, when they
+            Hap to behold some strange thing in their play,
+            To see them on the suddaine strucken sad,                110
+            As in their fancie some strange formes they had,
+            Which they by pointing with their fingers showe,
+            Angry at our capacities so slowe,
+            That by their countenance we no sooner learne
+            To see the wonder which they so discerne:
+            So the celestiall powers doe sit and smile
+            At innocent and vertuous men the while,
+            They stand amazed at the world ore-gone,
+            So farre beyond imagination,
+            With slauish basenesse, that the silent sit              120
+            Pointing like children in describing it.
+              Then noble friend the next way to controule
+            These worldly crosses, is to arme thy soule
+            With constant patience: and with thoughts as high
+            As these be lowe, and poore, winged to flye
+            To that exalted stand, whether yet they
+            Are got with paine, that sit out of the way
+            Of this ignoble age, which raiseth none
+            But such as thinke their black damnation
+            To be a trifle; such, so ill, that when                  130
+            They are aduanc'd, those few poore honest men
+            That yet are liuing, into search doe runne
+            To finde what mischiefe they haue lately done,
+            Which so preferres them; say thou he doth rise,
+            That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise.
+            And in this base world come what euer shall,
+            Hees worth lamenting, that for her doth fall.
+
+
+Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord SHEFFIELD, _drowned in
+HVMBER_
+
+      Light Sonnets hence, and to loose Louers flie,
+    And mournfull Maydens sing an Elegie
+    On those three SHEFFIELDS, ouer-whelm'd with waues,
+    Whose losse the teares of all the Muses craues;
+    A thing so full of pitty as this was,
+    Me thinkes for nothing should not slightly passe.
+    Treble this losse was, why should it not borrowe,
+    Through this Iles treble parts, a treble sorrowe:
+    But Fate did this, to let the world to knowe,
+    That sorrowes which from common causes growe,                     10
+    Are not worth mourning for, the losse to beare,
+    But of one onely sonne, 's not worth one teare.
+    Some tender-hearted man, as I, may spend
+    Some drops (perhaps) for a deceased friend.
+    Some men (perhaps) their Wifes late death may rue;
+    Or Wifes their Husbands, but such be but fewe.
+    Cares that haue vs'd the hearts of men to tuch
+    So oft, and deepely, will not now be such;
+    Who'll care for loss of maintenance, or place,
+    Fame, liberty, or of the Princes grace;                           20
+    Or sutes in law, by base corruption crost,
+    When he shall finde, that this which he hath lost,
+    Alas, is nothing to his, which did lose,
+    Three sonnes at once so excellent as those:
+    Nay, it is feard that this in time may breed
+    Hard hearts in men to their owne naturall seed;
+    That in respect of this great losse of theirs,
+    Men will scarce mourne the death of their owne heires.
+      Through all this Ile their losse so publique is,
+    That euery man doth take them to be his,                          30
+    And as a plague which had beginning there,
+    So catching is, and raigning euery where,
+    That those the farthest off as much doe rue them,
+    As those the most familiarly that knew them;
+    Children with this disaster are wext sage,
+    And like to men that strucken are in age;
+    Talke what it is, three children at one time
+    Thus to haue drown'd, and in their very prime;
+    Yea, and doe learne to act the same so well,
+    That then olde folke, they better can it tell.                    40
+    Inuention, oft that Passion vs'd to faine,
+    In sorrowes of themselves but slight, and meane,
+    To make them seeme great, here it shall not need,
+    For that this Subiect doth so farre exceed
+    All forc'd Expression, that what Poesie shall
+    Happily thinke to grace it selfe withall,
+    Falls so belowe it, that it rather borrowes
+    Grace from their griefe, then addeth to their sorrowes,
+    For sad mischance thus in the losse of three,
+    To shewe it selfe the vtmost it could bee:                        50
+    Exacting also by the selfe same lawe,
+    The vtmost teares that sorrowe had to drawe
+    All future times hath vtterly preuented
+    Of a more losse, or more to be lamented.
+      Whilst in faire youth they liuely flourish'd here,
+    To their kinde Parents they were onely deere:
+    But being dead, now euery one doth take
+    Them for their owne, and doe like sorrowe make:
+    As for their owne begot, as they pretended
+    Hope in the issue, which should haue discended                    60
+    From them againe; nor here doth end our sorrow,
+    But those of vs, that shall be borne to morrowe
+    Still shall lament them, and when time shall count,
+    To what vast number passed yeares shall mount,
+    They from their death shall duly reckon so,
+    As from the Deluge, former vs'd to doe.
+      O cruell _Humber_ guilty of their gore,
+    I now beleeue more then I did before
+    The _Brittish_ Story, whence thy name begun
+    Of Kingly _Humber_, an inuading _Hun_,                            70
+    By thee deuoured, for't is likely thou
+    With blood wert Christned, bloud-thirsty till now.
+    The _Ouse_, the _Done_, and thou farre clearer _Trent_,
+    To drowne the SHEFFIELDS as you gaue consent,
+    Shall curse the time, that ere you were infus'd,
+    Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd.
+    The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe,
+    And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro.
+    The very best part of whose soule, and bloud,
+    Compared with theirs, is viler then your mud.                     80
+    But wherefore paper, doe I idely spend,
+    On those deafe waters to so little end,
+    And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke,
+    In which, as in an euerlasting booke,
+    Our ends are written; O let times rehearse
+    Their fatall losse, in their sad Aniuerse.
+
+
+To the noble Lady, the Lady I.S. _of worldly crosses_
+
+      Madame, to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine,
+    Neither that I would haue you entertaine
+    The time in reading me, which you would spend
+    In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend,
+    I write not to you. Nay, and which is more,
+    My powerfull verses striue not to restore,
+    What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd,
+    To other ends my Elegie is squar'd.
+      Your beauty, sweetnesse, and your gracefull parts
+    That haue drawne many eyes, wonne many hearts,                    10
+    Of me get little, I am so much man,
+    That let them doe their vtmost that they can,
+    I will resist their forces: and they be
+    Though great to others, yet not so to me.
+    The first time I beheld you, I then sawe
+    That (in it selfe) which had the power to drawe
+    My stayd affection, and thought to allowe
+    You some deale of my heart; but you have now
+    Got farre into it, and you haue the skill
+    (For ought I see) to winne vpon me still.                         20
+      When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne
+    Your many crosses, as in Fortunes scorne,
+    And how neglectfull you have seem'd to be,
+    Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me,
+    I thought you stupid, nor that you had felt
+    Those griefes which (often) I haue scene to melt
+    Another woman into sighes and teares,
+    A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares,
+    But when in you I haue perceiu'd agen,
+    (Noted by me, more then by other men)                             30
+    How feeling and how sensible you are
+    Of your friends sorrowes, and with how much care
+    You seeke to cure them, then my selfe I blame,
+    That I your patience should so much misname,
+    Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne
+    Who feeles anothers griefe, can feele their owne.
+    When straight me thinkes, I heare your patience say,
+    Are you the man that studied _Seneca_:
+    _Plinies_ most learned letters; and must I
+    Read you a Lecture in Philosophie,                                40
+    T'auoid the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you;
+    I'le learne you more, Sir, then your bookes can teach you.
+      Of all your sex, yet neuer did I knowe,
+    Any that yet so actually could showe
+    Such rules for patience, such an easie way,
+    That who so sees it, shall be forc'd to say,
+    Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd,
+    Is of this Lady, in an instant learn'd.
+    It is heauens will that you should wronged be
+    By the malicious, that the world might see                        50
+    Your Doue-like meekenesse; for had the base scumme,
+    The spawne of Fiends, beene in your slander dumbe,
+    Your vertue then had perish'd, neuer priz'd,
+    For that the same you had not exercised;
+    And you had lost the Crowne you haue, and glory,
+    Nor had you beene the subiect of my Story.
+    Whilst they feele Hell, being damned in their hate,
+    Their thoughts like Deuils them excruciate,
+    Which by your noble suffrings doe torment
+    Them with new paines, and giues you this content                  60
+    To see your soule an Innocent, hath suffred,
+    And vp to heauen before your eyes be offred:
+    Your like we in a burning Glasse may see,
+    When the Sunnes rayes therein contracted be
+    Bent on some obiect, which is purely white,
+    We finde that colour doth dispierce the light,
+    And stands vntainted: but if it hath got
+    Some little sully; or the least small spot,
+    Then it soon fiers it; so you still remaine
+    Free, because in you they can finde no staine.                    70
+      God doth not loue them least, on whom he layes
+    The great'st afflictions; but that he will praise
+    Himselfe most in them, and will make them fit,
+    Near'st to himselfe who is the Lambe to sit:
+    For by that touch, like perfect gold he tries them,
+    Who are not his, vntill the world denies them.
+    And your example may work such effect,
+    That it may be the beginning of a Sect
+    Of patient women; and that many a day
+    All Husbands may for you their Founder pray.                      80
+      Nor is to me your Innocence the lesse,
+    In that I see you striue not to suppresse
+    Their barbarous malice; but your noble heart
+    Prepar'd to act so difficult a part,
+    With vnremoued constancie is still
+    The same it was, that of your proper ill,
+    The effect proceeds from your owne selfe the cause,
+    Like some iust Prince, who to establish lawes,
+    Suffers the breach at his best lou'd to strike,
+    To learne the vulgar to endure the like.                          90
+    You are a Martir thus, nor can you be
+    Lesse to the world so valued by me:
+    If as you haue begun, you still perseuer
+    Be euer good, that I may loue you euer.
+
+
+An Elegie vpon the death of the Lady PENELOPE CLIFTON
+
+      Must I needes write, who's hee that can refuse,
+    He wants a minde, for her that hath no Muse,
+    The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire,
+    Next powerfull, to those clouen tongues of fire.
+      Since I knew ought time neuer did allowe
+    Me stuffe fit for an Elegie, till now;
+    When _France_ and _England's_ HENRIES dy'd, my quill,
+    Why, I know not, but it that time lay still.
+    'Tis more then greatnesse that my spirit must raise,
+    To obserue custome I vse not to praise;                           10
+    Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended,
+    On any one from whom she was descended;
+    That for their fauour I this way should wooe,
+    As some poor wretched things (perhaps) may doe;
+    I gaine the end, whereat I onely ayme,
+    If by my freedome, I may giue her fame.
+      Walking then forth being newly vp from bed,
+    O Sir (quoth one) the Lady CLIFTON'S dead.
+    When, but that reason my sterne rage withstood,
+    My hand had sure beene guilty of his blood.                       20
+    If shee be so, must thy rude tongue confesse it
+    (Quoth I) and com'st so coldly to expresse it.
+    Thou shouldst haue giuen a shreeke, to make me feare thee;
+    That might haue slaine what euer had beene neere thee.
+    Thou shouldst haue com'n like Time with thy scalpe bare,
+    And in thy hands thou shouldst haue brought thy haire,
+    Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke,
+    As seene a spirit, or th'adst beene thunder-strooke,
+    And gazing on me so a little space,
+    Thou shouldst haue shot thine eye balls in my face,               30
+    Then falling at my feet, thou shouldst haue said,
+    O she is gone, and Nature with her dead.
+      With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past,
+    By that neere Groue, whereas both first and last,
+    I saw her, not three moneths before shee di'd.
+    When (though full Summer gan to vaile her pride,
+    And that I sawe men leade home ripened Corne,
+    Besides aduis'd me well,) I durst haue sworne
+    The lingring yeare, the Autumne had adiourn'd,
+    And the fresh Spring had beene againe return'd,                   40
+    Her delicacie, louelinesse, and grace,
+    With such a Summer brauery deckt the place:
+    But now alas, it lookt forlorne and dead;
+    And where she stood, the fading leaues were shed,
+    Presenting onely sorrowe to my sight,
+    O God (thought I) this is her Embleme right.
+    And sure I thinke it cannot but be thought,
+    That I to her by prouidence was brought.
+    For that the Fates fore-dooming, shee should die,
+    Shewed me this wondrous Master peece, that I                      50
+    Should sing her Funerall, that the world should know it,
+    That heauen did thinke her worthy of a Poet;
+    My hand is fatall, nor doth fortune doubt,
+    For what it writes, not fire shall ere race out.
+    A thousand silken Puppets should haue died,
+    And in their fulsome Coffins putrified,
+    Ere in my lines, you of their names should heare
+    To tell the world that such there euer were,
+    Whose memory shall from the earth decay,
+    Before those Rags be worne they gaue away:                        60
+    Had I her god-like features neuer seene,
+    Poore slight Report had tolde me she had beene
+    A hansome Lady, comely, very well,
+    And so might I haue died an Infidell,
+    As many doe which neuer did her see,
+    Or cannot credit, what she was, by mee.
+      Nature, her selfe, that before Art prefers
+    To goe beyond all our Cosmographers,
+    By Charts and Maps exactly that haue showne,
+    All of this earth that euer can be knowne,                        70
+    For that she would beyond them all descrie
+    What Art could not by any mortall eye;
+    A Map of heauen in her rare features drue,
+    And that she did so liuely and so true,
+    That any soule but seeing it might sweare
+    That all was perfect heauenly that was there.
+    If euer any Painter were so blest,
+    To drawe that face, which so much heau'n exprest,
+    If in his best of skill he did her right,
+    I wish it neuer may come in my sight,                             80
+    I greatly doubt my faith (weake man) lest I
+    Should to that face commit Idolatry.
+      Death might haue tyth'd her sex, but for this one,
+    Nay, haue ta'n halfe to haue let her alone;
+    Such as their wrinkled temples to supply,
+    Cyment them vp with sluttish _Mercury_,
+    Such as vndrest were able to affright,
+    A valiant man approching him by night;
+    Death might haue taken such, her end deferd,
+    Vntill the time she had beene climaterd;                          90
+    When she would haue bin at threescore yeares and three,
+    Such as our best at three and twenty be,
+    With enuie then, he might haue ouerthrowne her,
+    When age nor time had power to ceaze vpon her.
+      But when the vnpittying Fates her end decreed,
+    They to the same did instantly proceed,
+    For well they knew (if she had languish'd so)
+    As those which hence by naturall causes goe,
+    So many prayers, and teares for her had spoken,
+    As certainly their Iron lawes had broken,                        100
+    And had wak'd heau'n, who clearely would haue show'd
+    That change of Kingdomes to her death it ow'd;
+    And that the world still of her end might thinke,
+    It would haue let some Neighbouring mountaine sinke.
+    Or the vast Sea it in on vs to cast,
+    As _Seuerne_ did about some fiue yeares past:
+    Or some sterne Comet his curld top to reare,
+    Whose length should measure halfe our Hemisphere.
+    Holding this height, to say some will not sticke,
+    That now I raue, and am growne lunatique:                        110
+    You of what sexe so ere you be, you lye,
+    'Tis thou thy selfe is lunatique, not I.
+    I charge you in her name that now is gone,
+    That may coniure you, if you be not stone,
+    That you no harsh, nor shallow rimes decline,
+    Vpon that day wherein you shall read mine.
+    Such as indeed are falsely termed verse,
+    And will but sit like mothes vpon her herse;
+    Nor that no child, nor chambermaide, nor page,
+    Disturbe the Rome, the whilst my sacred rage,                    120
+    In reading is; but whilst you heare it read,
+    Suppose, before you, that you see her dead,
+    The walls about you hung with mournfull blacke,
+    And nothing of her funerall to lacke,
+    And when this period giues you leaue to pause,
+    Cast vp your eyes, and sigh for my applause.
+
+
+Vpon the noble Lady ASTONS _departure for Spaine_
+
+                I many a time haue greatly marueil'd, why
+              Men say, their friends depart when as they die,
+              How well that word, a dying, doth expresse,
+              I did not know (I freely must confesse,)
+              Till her departure: for whose missed sight,
+              I am enforc'd this Elegy to write:
+              But since resistlesse fate will haue it so,
+              That she from hence must to _Iberia_ goe,
+              And my weak wishes can her not detaine,
+              I will of heauen in policy complaine,                   10
+              That it so long her trauell should adiourne,
+              Hoping thereby to hasten her returne.
+The witches     Can those of _Norway_ for their wage procure,
+of the        By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure
+Northerly     Till from aboard the wished land men see,
+legions sell  And fetch the harbour, where they long to be,
+windes to     Can they by charmes doe this and cannot I
+passengers.   Who am the Priest of _Phœbus_, and so hie,
+              Sit in his fauour, winne the Poets god,
+              To send swift _Hermes_ with his snaky rod,              20
+              To _Æolus_ Caue, commanding him with care,
+              His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare,
+              And from that howre, wherein shee takes the seas,
+              Nature bring on the quiet _Halcion_ dayes,
+              And in that hower that bird begin her nest,
+              Nay at that very instant, that long rest
+              May seize on _Neptune_, who may still repose,
+              And let that bird nere till that hower disclose,
+              Wherein she landeth, and for all that space
+              Be not a wrinkle seene on _Thetis_ face,                30
+              Onely so much breath with a gentle gale,
+              As by the easy swelling of her saile,
+The nearest   May at *_Sebastians_ safely set her downe
+Harbour of    Where, with her goodnes she may blesse the towne.
+_Spaine_.       If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee
+              Some Pirate, and grimme _Neptune_ thou should'st be
+              His Executioner, or what is his worse,
+              The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse
+              Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake,
+              Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake,             40
+              Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let
+              Them be at ease in some safe harbour set,
+              Where with much profit they may vent their wealth
+              That they haue got by villany and stealth,
+              Rather great _Neptune_, then when thou dost raue,
+              Thou once shouldst wet her saile but with a waue.
+                Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare,
+              To seize the ship wherein she is to fare,
+              Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare,
+              And tell those Sea-thiefes, that once such they were    50
+              As they are now, till they assaid to rape
+An Ile for    Grape-crowned _Bacchus_ in a striplings shape,
+the abundance That came aboard them, and would faine haue saild,
+of wine       To vine-spread *_Naxus_ but that him they faild,
+supposed to   Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made,
+be the        And warnd them how they passengers inuade.
+habitation      Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow
+of _Bachus_.  Autumne is come, there be no flowers to grow,
+              Yea from that place respire, to which she goes,
+              And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes,      60
+              But _Boreas_ and yee Esterne windes arise,
+              To send her soon to _Spaine_, but be precise,
+              That in your aide you seeme not still so sterne,
+              As we a summer should no more discerne,
+              For till that here againe, I may her see,
+              It will be winter all the yeare with mee.
+_Castor_ and    Ye swanne-begotten lonely brother-stars,
+_Polox_ begot So oft auspicious to poore Mariners,
+by _Ioue_ on  Ye twin-bred lights of louely _Leda's_ brood,
+_Leda_ in the _Ioues_ egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood,          70
+forme of a    And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare
+Swanne. A     To be her warrant from all future feare.
+constellation And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good,
+ominous to    May neuer time by wormes, consume thy wood
+Mariners.     Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last,
+              Till they for reliques be in temples plac't;
+              Maist thou be ranged with that mighty Arke,
+              Wherein iust _Noah_ did all the world imbarque,
+              With that which after _Troyes_ so famous wracke,
+              From ten yeares trauell brought _Vlisses_ backe,        80
+              That Argo which to _Colchos_ went from _Greece_,
+              And in her botome brought the goulden fleece
+              Vnder braue _Iason_; or that same of _Drake_,
+              Wherein he did his famous voyage make
+              About the world; or _Candishes_ that went
+              As far as his, about the Continent.
+                And yee milde winds that now I doe implore,
+              Not once to raise the least sand on the shore,
+              Nor once on forfait of your selues respire:
+              When once the time is come of her retire,               90
+              If then it please you, but to doe your due,
+              What for these windes I did, Ile doe for you;
+              Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice,
+              My pen shall prooue you to haue dietyes,
+              Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flow,
+              And tell the storyes of your weale and woe,
+              Ile prooue what profit to the earth you bring,
+              And how t'is you that welcome in the spring;
+              Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show,
+              The time shall be kept holy, when you blow.            100
+              O blessed winds! your will that it may be,
+              To send health to her, and her home to me.
+
+
+To my most dearely-loued friend HENERY REYNOLDS Esquire, of
+_Poets & Poesie_
+
+      My dearely loued friend how oft haue we,
+    In winter evenings (meaning to be free,)
+    To some well-chosen place vs'd to retire;
+    And there with moderate meate, and wine, and fire,
+    Haue past the howres contentedly with chat,
+    Now talk of this, and then discours'd of that,
+    Spoke our owne verses 'twixt our selves, if not
+    Other mens lines, which we by chance had got,
+    Or some Stage pieces famous long before,
+    Of which your happy memory had store;                             10
+    And I remember you much pleased were,
+    Of those who liued long agoe to heare,
+    As well as of those, of these latter times,
+    Who have inricht our language with their rimes,
+    And in succession, how still vp they grew,
+    Which is the subiect, that I now pursue;
+    For from my cradle, (you must know that) I,
+    Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie,
+    And when that once _Pueriles_ I had read,
+    And newly had my _Cato_ construed,                                20
+    In my small selfe I greatly marueil'd then,
+    Amonst all other, what strange kinde of men
+    These Poets were; And pleased with the name,
+    To my milde Tutor merrily I came,
+    (For I was then a proper goodly page,
+    Much like a Pigmy, scarse ten yeares of age)
+    Clasping my slender armes about his thigh.
+    O my deare master! cannot you (quoth I)
+    Make me a Poet, doe it if you can,
+    And you shall see, Ile quickly bee a man,                         30
+    Who me thus answered smiling, boy quoth he,
+    If you'le not play the wag, but I may see
+    You ply your learning, I will shortly read
+    Some Poets to you; _Phœbus_ be my speed,
+    Too't hard went I, when shortly he began,
+    And first read to me honest _Mantuan_,
+    Then _Virgils Eglogues_, being entred thus,
+    Me thought I straight had mounted _Pegasus_,
+    And in his full Careere could make him stop,
+    And bound vpon _Parnassus'_ by-clift top.                         40
+    I scornd your ballet then though it were done
+    And had for Finis, _William Elderton_.
+    But soft, in sporting with this childish iest,
+    I from my subiect haue too long digrest,
+    Then to the matter that we tooke in hand,
+    _Ioue_ and _Apollo_ for the _Muses_ stand.
+      Then noble _Chaucer_, in those former times,
+    The first inrich'd our _English_ with his rimes,
+    And was the first of ours, that euer brake,
+    Into the _Muses_ treasure, and first spake                        50
+    In weighty numbers, deluing in the Mine
+    Of perfect knowledge, which he could refine,
+    And coyne for currant, and as much as then
+    The _English_ language could expresse to men,
+    He made it doe; and by his wondrous skill,
+    Gaue vs much light from his abundant quill.
+      And honest _Gower_, who in respect of him,
+    Had only sipt at _Aganippas_ brimme,
+    And though in yeares this last was him before,
+    Yet fell he far short of the others store.                        60
+      When after those, foure ages very neare,
+    They with the _Muses_ which conuersed, were
+    That Princely _Surrey_, early in the time
+    Of the Eight _Henry_, who was then the prime
+    Of _Englands_ noble youth; with him there came
+    _Wyat_; with reuerence whom we still doe name
+    Amongst our Poets, _Brian_ had a share
+    With the two former, which accompted are
+    That times best makers, and the authors were
+    Of those small poems, which the title beare,                      70
+    Of songs and sonnets, wherein oft they hit
+    On many dainty passages of wit.
+      _Gascoine_ and _Churchyard_ after them againe
+    In the beginning of _Eliza's_ raine,
+    Accoumpted were great Meterers many a day,
+    But not inspired with braue fier, had they
+    Liu'd but a little longer, they had seene,
+    Their works before them to have buried beene.
+      Graue morrall _Spencer_ after these came on
+    Then whom I am perswaded there was none                           80
+    Since the blind _Bard_ his _Iliads_ vp did make,
+    Fitter a taske like that to vndertake,
+    To set downe boldly, brauely to inuent,
+    In all high knowledge, surely excellent.
+      The noble _Sidney_ with this last arose,
+    That _Heroe_ for numbers, and for Prose.
+    That throughly pac'd our language as to show,
+    The plenteous _English_ hand in hand might goe
+    With _Greek_ or _Latine_, and did first reduce
+    Our tongue from _Lillies_ writing then in vse;                    90
+    Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of fishes, Flyes,
+    Playing with words, and idle Similies,
+    As th' _English_, Apes and very Zanies be,
+    Of euery thing, that they doe heare and see,
+    So imitating his ridiculous tricks,
+    They spake and writ, all like meere lunatiques.
+      Then _Warner_ though his lines were not so trim'd,
+    Nor yet his Poem so exactly lim'd
+    And neatly ioynted, but the Criticke may
+    Easily reprooue him, yet thus let me say;                        100
+    For my old friend, some passages there be
+    In him, which I protest haue taken me,
+    With almost wonder, so fine, cleere, and new
+    As yet they haue bin equalled by few.
+      Neat _Marlow_ bathed in the _Thespian_ springs
+    Had in him those braue translunary things,
+    That the first Poets had, his raptures were,
+    All ayre, and fire, which made his verses cleere,
+    For that fine madnes still he did retaine,
+    Which rightly should possesse a Poets braine.                    110
+      And surely _Nashe_, though he a Proser were
+    A branch of Lawrell yet deserues to beare,
+    Sharply _Satirick_ was he, and that way
+    He went, since that his being, to this day
+    Few haue attempted, and I surely thinke
+    Those wordes shall hardly be set downe with inke;
+    Shall scorch and blast, so as his could, where he,
+    Would inflict vengeance, and be it said of thee,
+    _Shakespeare_, thou hadst as smooth a Comicke vaine,
+    Fitting the socke, and in thy naturall braine,                   120
+    As strong conception, and as Cleere a rage,
+    As any one that trafiqu'd with the stage.
+      Amongst these _Samuel Daniel_, whom if I
+    May spake of, but to sensure doe denie,
+    Onely haue heard some wisemen him rehearse,
+    To be too much _Historian_ in verse;
+    His rimes were smooth, his meeters well did close
+    But yet his maner better fitted prose:
+    Next these, learn'd _Johnson_, in this List I bring,
+    Who had drunke deepe of the _Pierian_ spring,                    130
+    Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer,
+    And long was Lord here of the Theater,
+    Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke,
+    Whether in Poems rightly dramatique,
+    Strong _Seneca_ or _Plautus_, he or they,
+    Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away.
+    Others againe here liued in my dayes,
+    That haue of vs deserued no lesse praise
+    For their translations, then the daintiest wit
+    That on _Parnassus_ thinks, he highst doth sit,                  140
+    And for a chaire may mongst the Muses call,
+    As the most curious maker of them all;
+    As reuerent _Chapman_, who hath brought to vs,
+    _Musæus_, _Homer_ and _Hesiodus_
+    Out of the Greeke; and by his skill hath reard
+    Them to that height, and to our tongue endear'd,
+    That were those Poets at this day aliue,
+    To see their bookes thus with vs to suruiue,
+    They would think, hauing neglected them so long,
+    They had bin written in the _English_ tongue.                    150
+      And _Siluester_ who from the _French_ more weake,
+    Made _Bartas_ of his sixe dayes labour speake
+    In naturall _English_, who, had he there stayd,
+    He had done well, and neuer had bewraid
+    His owne inuention, to haue bin so poore
+    Who still wrote lesse, in striuing to write more.
+      Then dainty _Sands_ that hath to _English_ done,
+    Smooth sliding _Ouid_, and hath made him run
+    With so much sweetnesse and vnusuall grace,
+    As though the neatnesse of the _English_ pace,                   160
+    Should tell the Ietting _Lattine_ that it came
+    But slowly after, as though stiff and lame.
+      So _Scotland_ sent vs hither, for our owne
+    That man, whose name I euer would haue knowne,
+    To stand by mine, that most ingenious knight,
+    My _Alexander_, to whom in his right,
+    I want extreamely, yet in speaking thus
+    I doe but shew the loue, that was twixt vs,
+    And not his numbers which were braue and hie,
+    So like his mind, was his clear Poesie,                          170
+    And my deare _Drummond_ to whom much I owe
+    For his much loue, and proud I was to know,
+    His poesie, for which two worthy men,
+    I _Menstry_ still shall loue, and _Hauthorne-den_.
+    Then the two _Beamounts_ and my _Browne_ arose,
+    My deare companions whom I freely chose
+    My bosome friends; and in their seuerall wayes,
+    Rightly borne Poets, and in these last dayes,
+    Men of much note, and no lesse nobler parts,
+    Such as haue freely tould to me their hearts,                    180
+    As I have mine to them; but if you shall
+    Say in your knowledge, that these be not all
+    Haue writ in numbers, be inform'd that I
+    Only my selfe, to these few men doe tye,
+    Whose works oft printed, set on euery post,
+    To publique censure subiect haue bin most;
+    For such whose poems, be they nere so rare,
+    In priuate chambers, that incloistered are,
+    And by transcription daintyly must goe;
+    As though the world vnworthy were to know,                       190
+    Their rich composures, let those men that keepe
+    These wonderous reliques in their iudgement deepe;
+    And cry them vp so, let such Peeces bee
+    Spoke of by those that shall come after me,
+    I passe not for them: nor doe meane to run,
+    In quest of these, that them applause haue wonne,
+    Vpon our Stages in these latter dayes,
+    That are so many, let them haue their bayes
+    That doe deserue it; let those wits that haunt
+    Those publique circuits, let them freely chaunt                  200
+    Their fine Composures, and their praise pursue
+    And so my deare friend, for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of his incomparable _friend Sir_ HENRY RAYNSFORD
+_of_ CLIFFORD
+
+      Could there be words found to expresse my losse,
+    There were some hope, that this my heauy crosse
+    Might be sustained, and that wretched I
+    Might once finde comfort: but to haue him die
+    Past all degrees that was so deare to me;
+    As but comparing him with others, hee
+    Was such a thing, as if some Power should say
+    I'le take Man on me, to shew men the way
+    What a friend should be. But words come so short
+    Of him, that when I thus would him report,                        10
+    I am vndone, and hauing nought to say,
+    Mad at my selfe, I throwe my penne away,
+    And beate my breast, that there should be a woe
+    So high, that words cannot attaine thereto.
+    T'is strange that I from my abundant breast,
+    Who others sorrowes haue so well exprest:
+    Yet I by this in little time am growne
+    So poore, that I want to expresse mine owne.
+    I thinke the Fates perceiuing me to beare
+    My worldly crosses without wit or feare:                          20
+    Nay, with what scorne I euer haue derided,
+    Those plagues that for me they haue oft prouided,
+    Drew them to counsaile; nay, conspired rather,
+    And in this businesse laid their heads together
+    To finde some one plague, that might me subuert,
+    And at an instant breake my stubborne heart;
+    They did indeede, and onely to this end
+    They tooke from me this more then man, or friend.
+      Hard-hearted Fates, your worst thus haue you done,
+    Then let vs see what lastly you haue wonne                        30
+    By this your rigour, in a course so strict,
+    Why see, I beare all that you can inflict:
+    And hee from heauen your poore reuenge to view;
+    Laments my losse of him, but laughes at you,
+    Whilst I against you execrations breath;
+    Thus are you scorn'd aboue, and curst beneath.
+      Me thinks that man (vnhappy though he be)
+    Is now thrice happy in respect of me,
+    Who hath no friend; for that in hauing none
+    He is not stirr'd as I am, to bemone                              40
+    My miserable losse, who but in vaine,
+    May euer looke to find the like againe.
+    This more then mine own selfe; that who had seene
+    His care of me where euer I had beene,
+    And had not knowne his actiue spirit before,
+    Vpon some braue thing working euermore:
+    He would haue sworne that to no other end
+    He had been borne: but onely for my friend.
+    I had been happy if nice Nature had
+    (Since now my lucke falls out to be so bad)                       50
+    Made me vnperfect, either of so soft
+    And yeelding temper, that lamenting oft,
+    I into teares my mournefull selfe might melt;
+    Or else so dull, my losse not to haue felt.
+    I haue by my too deare experience bought,
+    That fooles and mad men, whom I euer thought
+    The most vnhappy, are in deede not so:
+    And therefore I lesse pittie can bestowe
+    (Since that my sence, my sorrowe so can sound)
+    On those in Bedlam that are bound,                                60
+    And scarce feele scourging; and when as I meete
+    A foole by Children followed in the Streete,
+    Thinke I (poor wretch) thou from my griefe art free,
+    Nor couldst thou feele it, should it light on thee;
+    But that I am a _Christian_, and am taught
+    By him who with his precious bloud me bought,
+    Meekly like him my crosses to endure,
+    Else would they please me well, that for their cure,
+    When as they feele their conscience doth them brand,
+    Vpon themselues dare lay a violent hand;                          70
+    Not suffering Fortune with her murdering knife,
+    Stand like a Surgeon working on the life,
+    Deserting this part, that ioynt off to cut,
+    Shewing that Artire, ripping then that gut,
+    Whilst the dull beastly World with her squint eye,
+    Is to behold the strange Anatomie.
+      I am persuaded that those which we read
+    To be man-haters, were not so indeed,
+    The Athenian _Timon_, and beside him more
+    Of which the _Latines_, as the _Greekes_ haue store;              80
+    Nor not did they all humane manners hate,
+    Nor yet maligne mans dignity and state.
+    But finding our fraile life how euery day,
+    It like a bubble vanisheth away:
+    For this condition did mankinde detest,
+    Farre more incertaine then that of the beast.
+      Sure heauen doth hate this world and deadly too,
+    Else as it hath done it would neuer doe,
+    For if it did not, it would ne're permit
+    A man of so much vertue, knowledge, wit,                          90
+    Of naturall goodnesse, supernaturall grace,
+    Whose courses when considerately I trace
+    Into their ends, and diligently looke,
+    They serue me for Oeconomike booke.
+    By which this rough world I not onely stemme,
+    In goodnesse but grow learn'd by reading them.
+      O pardon me, it my much sorrow is,
+    Which makes me vse this long Parenthesis;
+    Had heauen this world not hated as I say,
+    In height of life it had not, tane away                          100
+    A spirit so braue, so actiue, and so free,
+    That such a one who would not wish to bee,
+    Rather then weare a Crowne, by Armes though got,
+    So fast a friend, so true a Patriot.
+    In things concerning both the worlds so wise,
+    Besides so liberall of his faculties,
+    That where he would his industrie bestowe,
+    He would haue done, e're one could think to doe.
+    No more talke of the working of the Starres,
+    For plenty, scarcenesse, or for peace, or Warres:                110
+    They are impostures, therefore get you hence
+    With all your Planets, and their influence.
+    No more doe I care into them to looke,
+    Then in some idle Chiromantick booke,
+    Shewing the line of life, and _Venus_ mount,
+    Nor yet no more would I of them account,
+    Then what that tells me, since what that so ere
+    Might promise man long life: of care and feare,
+    By nature freed, a conscience cleare, and quiet,
+    His health, his constitution, and his diet;                      120
+    Counting a hundred, fourscore at the least,
+    Propt vp by prayers, yet more to be encreast,
+    All these should faile, and in his fiftieth yeare
+    He should expire, henceforth let none be deare,
+    To me at all, lest for my haplesse sake,
+    Before their time heauen from the world them take,
+    And leaue me wretched to lament their ends
+    As I doe his, who was a thousand friends.
+
+
+Vpon the death of the Lady OLIVE STANHOPE
+
+    Canst thou depart and be forgotten so,
+    STANHOPE thou canst not, no deare STANHOPE, no:
+    But in despight of death the world shall see,
+    That Muse which so much graced was by thee
+    Can black Obliuion vtterly out-braue,
+    And set thee vp aboue thy silent Graue.
+    I meruail'd much the _Derbian_ Nimphes were dumbe,
+    Or of those Muses, what should be become,
+    That of all those, the mountaines there among,
+    Not one this while thy _Epicedium_sung;                           10
+    But so it is, when they of thee were reft,
+    They all those hills, and all those Riuers left,
+    And sullen growne, their former seates remoue,
+    Both from cleare _Darwin_, and from siluer _Doue_,
+    And for thy losse, they greeued are so sore,
+    That they haue vow'd they will come there no more;
+    But leaue thy losse to me, that I should rue thee,
+    Vnhappy man, and yet I neuer knew thee:
+    Me thou didst loue vnseene, so did I thee,
+    It was our spirits that lou'd then and not wee;                   20
+    Therefore without profanenesse I may call
+    The loue betwixt vs, loue spirituall:
+    But that which thou affectedst was so true,
+    As that thereby thee perfectly I knew;
+    And now that spirit, which thou so lou'dst, still mine,
+    Shall offer this a Sacrifice to thine,
+    And reare this Trophe, which for thee shall last,
+    When this most beastly Iron age is past;
+    I am perswaded, whilst we two haue slept,
+    Our soules haue met, and to each other wept,                      30
+    That destenie so strongly should forbid,
+    Our bodies to conuerse as oft they did:
+    For certainly refined spirits doe know,
+    As doe the Angels, and doe here belowe
+    Take the fruition of that endlesse blisse,
+    As those aboue doe, and what each one is.
+    They see diuinely, and as those there doe,
+    They know each others wills, so soules can too.
+      About that dismall time, thy spirit hence flew,
+    Mine much was troubled, but why, I not knew,                      40
+    In dull and sleepy sounds, it often left me,
+    As of it selfe it ment to haue bereft me,
+    I asked it what the cause was, of such woe,
+    Or what it might be, that might vexe it so,
+    But it was deafe, nor my demand would here,
+    But when that ill newes came, to touch mine eare,
+    I straightwayes found this watchfull sperit of mine,
+    Troubled had bin to take it leaue of thine,
+    For when fate found, what nature late had done,
+    How much from heauen, she for the earth had won                   50
+    By thy deare birth; said, that it could not be
+    In so yong yeares, what it perceiu'd in thee,
+    But nature sure, had fram'd thee long before;
+    And as Rich Misers of their mighty store,
+    Keepe the most precious longst, so from times past,
+    She onely had reserued thee till the last;
+    So did thy wisedome, not thy youth behold,
+    And tooke thee hence, in thinking thou wast old.
+    Thy shape and beauty often haue to me
+    Bin highly praysed, which I thought might be,                     60
+    Truely reported, for a spirit so braue,
+    Which heauen to thee so bountifully gaue;
+    Nature could not in recompence againe,
+    In some rich lodging but to entertaine.
+    Let not the world report then, that the Peake,
+    Is but a rude place only vast and bleake;
+    And nothing hath to boast of but her Lead,
+    When she can say that happily she bred
+    Thee, and when she shall of her wonders tell
+    Wherein she doth all other Tracts excell,                         70
+    Let her account thee greatst, and still to time
+    Of all the rest, accord thee for the prime.
+
+
+To Master WILLIAM IEFFREYS, Chaplaine to the Lord Ambassa_dour
+in Spaine_
+
+      My noble friend, you challenge me to write
+    To you in verse, and often you recite,
+    My promise to you, and to send you newes;
+    As 'tis a thing I very seldome vse,
+    And I must write of State, if to _Madrid_,
+    A thing our Proclamations here forbid,
+    And that word State such Latitude doth beare,
+    As it may make me very well to feare
+    To write, nay speake at all, these let you know
+    Your power on me, yet not that I will showe                       10
+    The loue I beare you, in that lofty height,
+    So cleere expression, or such words of weight,
+    As into _Spanish_ if they were translated,
+    Might make the Poets of that Realme amated;
+    Yet these my least were, but that you extort
+    These numbers from me, when I should report
+    In home-spunne prose, in good plaine honest words
+    The newes our wofull _England_ vs affords.
+      The Muses here sit sad, and mute the while
+    A sort of swine vnseasonably defile                               20
+    Those sacred springs, which from the by-clift hill
+    Dropt their pure _Nectar_ into euery quill;
+    In this with State, I hope I doe not deale,
+    This onely tends the Muses common-weale.
+      What canst thou hope, or looke for from his pen,
+    Who liues with beasts, though in the shapes of men,
+    And what a poore few are we honest still,
+    And dare to be so, when all the world is ill.
+      I finde this age of our markt with this Fate,
+    That honest men are still precipitate                             30
+    Vnder base villaines, which till th' earth can vent
+    This her last brood, and wholly hath them spent,
+    Shall be so, then in reuolution shall
+    Vertue againe arise by vices fall;
+    But that shall I not see, neither will I
+    Maintaine this, as one doth a Prophesie,
+    That our King _Iames_ to _Rome_ shall surely goe,
+    And from his chaire the _Pope_ shall ouerthrow.
+    But O this world is so giuen vp to hell,
+    That as the old Giants, which did once rebell,                    40
+    Against the Gods, so this now-liuing race
+    Dare sin, yet stand, and Ieere heauen in the face.
+      But soft my Muse, and make a little stay,
+    Surely thou art not rightly in thy way,
+    To my good _Ieffrayes_ was not I about
+    To write, and see, I suddainely am out,
+    This is pure _Satire_, that thou speak'st, and I
+    Was first in hand to write an Elegie.
+    To tell my countreys shame I not delight.
+    But doe bemoane 't I am no _Democrite_:                           50
+    O God, though Vertue mightily doe grieue
+    For all this world, yet will I not beleeue
+    But that shees faire and louely, and that she
+    So to the period of the world shall be;
+    Else had she beene forsaken (sure) of all,
+    For that so many sundry mischiefes fall
+    Vpon her dayly, and so many take
+    Armes vp against her, as it well might make
+    Her to forsake her nature, and behind,
+    To leaue no step for future time to find,                         60
+    As she had neuer beene, for he that now
+    Can doe her most disgrace, him they alow
+    The times chiefe Champion, and he is the man,
+    The prize, and Palme that absolutely wanne,
+    For where Kings Clossets her free seat hath bin
+    She neere the Lodge, not suffered is to Inne,
+    For ignorance against her stands in state,
+    Like some great porter at a Pallace gate;
+    So dull and barbarous lately are we growne,
+    And there are some this slauery that haue sowne,                  70
+    That for mans knowledge it enough doth make,
+    If he can learne, to read an Almanacke;
+    By whom that trash of _Amadis de Gaule_,
+    Is held an author most authenticall,
+    And things we haue like Noblemen that be
+    In little time, which I haue hope to see
+    Vpon their foot-clothes, as the streets they ride
+    To haue their hornebookes at their girdles ti'd.
+    But all their superfluity of spite
+    On vertues hand-maid Poesy doth light,                            80
+    And to extirpe her all their plots they lay,
+    But to her ruine they shall misse the way,
+    For his alone the Monuments of wit,
+    Aboue the rage of Tyrants that doe sit,
+    And from their strength, not one himselfe can saue,
+    But they shall tryumph o'r his hated graue.
+      In my conceipt, friend, thou didst neuer see
+    A righter Madman then thou hast of me,
+    For now as _Elegiack_ I bewaile
+    These poor base times; then suddainely I raile                    90
+    And am _Satirick_, not that I inforce
+    My selfe to be so, but euen as remorse,
+    Or hate, in the proud fulnesse of their hight
+    Master my fancy, iust so doe I write.
+      But gentle friend as soone shall I behold
+    That stone of which so many haue vs tould,
+    (Yet neuer any to this day could make)
+    The great _Elixar_ or to vndertake
+    The _Rose-crosse_ knowledge which is much like that
+    A Tarrying-iron for fooles to labour at,                         100
+    As euer after I may hope to see,
+    (A plague vpon this beastly world for me,)
+    Wit so respected as it was of yore;
+    And if hereafter any it restore,
+    It must be those that yet for many a yeare,
+    Shall be vnborne that must inhabit here,
+    And such in vertue as shall be asham'd
+    Almost to heare their ignorant Grandsires nam'd,
+    With whom so many noble spirits then liu'd,
+    That were by them of all reward depriu'd.                        110
+      My noble friend, I would I might haue quit
+    This age of these, and that I might haue writ,
+    Before all other, how much the braue pen,
+    Had here bin honoured of the _English_ men;
+    Goodnesse and knowledge, held by them in prise,
+    How hatefull to them Ignorance and vice;
+    But it falls out the contrary is true,
+    And so my _Ieffreyes_ for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of Mistris ELIANOR FALLOWFIELD
+
+      Accursed Death, what neede was there at all
+    Of thee, or who to councell thee did call;
+    The subiect whereupon these lines I spend
+    For thee was most vnfit, her timelesse end
+    Too soone thou wroughtst, too neere her thou didst stand;
+    Thou shouldst haue lent thy leane and meager hand
+    To those who oft the help thereof beseech,
+    And can be cured by no other Leech.
+      In this wide world how many thousands be,
+    That hauing past fourescore, doe call for thee.                   10
+    The wretched debtor in the Iayle that lies,
+    Yet cannot this his Creditor suffice
+    Doth woe thee oft with many a sigh and teare,
+    Yet thou art coy, and him thou wilt not heare.
+    The Captiue slaue that tuggeth at the Oares,
+    And vnderneath the Bulls tough sinewes rores,
+    Begs at thy hand, in lieu of all his paines,
+    That thou wouldst but release him of his chaines;
+    Yet thou a niggard listenest not thereto,
+    With one short gaspe which thou mightst easily do,                20
+    But thou couldst come to her ere there was neede,
+    And euen at once destroy both flower and seede.
+      But cruell Death if thou so barbarous be,
+    To those so goodly, and so young as shee;
+    That in their teeming thou wilt shew thy spight;
+    Either from marriage thou wilt Maides affright,
+    Or in their wedlock, Widowes liues to chuse
+    Their Husbands bed, and vtterly refuse,
+    Fearing conception; so shalt thou thereby
+    Extirpate mankinde by thy cruelty.                                30
+      If after direfull Tragedy thou thirst,
+    Extinguish _Himens_ Torches at the first;
+    Build Funerall pyles, and the sad pauement strewe,
+    With mournfull Cypresse, and the pale-leau'd Yewe.
+    Away with Roses, Myrtle, and with Bayes;
+    Ensignes of mirth, and iollity, as these;
+    Neuer at Nuptials vsed be againe,
+    But from the Church the new Bride entertaine
+    With weeping _Nenias_, euer and among,
+    As at departings be sad _Requiems_ song.                          40
+      _Lucina_ by th' olde Poets that wert sayd,
+    Women in Childe-birth euermore to ayde,
+    Because thine Altars, long haue layne neglected:
+    Nor as they should, thy holy fiers reflected
+    Vpon thy Temples, therefore thou doest flye,
+    And wilt not helpe them in necessitie.
+      Thinking vpon thee, I doe often muse,
+    Whether for thy deare sake I should accuse
+    Nature or Fortune, Fortune then I blame,
+    And doe impute it as her greatest shame,                          50
+    To hast thy timelesse end, and soone agen
+    I vexe at Nature, nay I curse her then,
+    That at the time of need she was no stronger,
+    That we by her might haue enioy'd thee longer.
+      But whilst of these I with my selfe debate,
+    I call to minde how flinty-hearted Fate
+    Seaseth the olde, the young, the faire, the foule,
+    No thing on earth can Destinie controule:
+    But yet that Fate which hath of life bereft thee,
+    Still to eternall memory hath left thee,                          60
+    Which thou enioy'st by the deserued breath,
+    That many a great one hath not after death.
+
+
+
+
+NIMPHIDIA
+
+
+THE COVRT OF FAYRIE
+
+    Olde CHAVCER doth of _Topas_ tell,
+    Mad RABLAIS of Pantagruell,
+    A latter third of _Dowsabell_,
+      With such poore trifles playing:
+    Others the like haue laboured at
+    Some of this thing, and some of that,
+    And many of they know not what,
+      But that they must be saying.
+
+    Another sort there bee, that will
+    Be talking of the Fayries still,                                  10
+    Nor neuer can they have their fill,
+      As they were wedded to them;
+    No Tales of them their thirst can slake,
+    So much delight therein they take,
+    And some strange thing they fame would make,
+      Knew they the way to doe them.
+
+    Then since no Muse hath bin so bold,
+    Or of the Later, or the ould,
+    Those Eluish secrets to vnfold,
+      Which lye from others reading,                                  20
+    My actiue Muse to light shall bring,
+    The court of that proud Fayry King,
+    And tell there, of the Reuelling,
+      _Ioue_ prosper my proceeding.
+
+    And thou NIMPHIDIA gentle F_ay_,
+    Which meeting me vpon the way,
+    These secrets didst to me bewray,
+      Which now I am in telling:
+    My pretty light fantastick mayde,
+    I here inuoke thee to my ayde,                                    30
+    That I may speake what thou hast sayd,
+      In numbers smoothly swelling.
+
+    This Pallace standeth in the Ayre,
+    By Nigromancie placed there,
+    That it no Tempests needs to feare,
+      Which way so ere it blow it.
+    And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone,
+    Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone,
+    And thence the _Fayrie_ can as soone
+      Passe to the earth below it.                                    40
+
+    The Walls of Spiders legs are made,
+    Well mortized and finely layd,
+    He was the master of his Trade
+      It curiously that builded:
+    The Windowes of the eyes of Cats,
+    And for the Roofe, instead of Slats,
+    Is couer'd with the skinns of Batts,
+      With Mooneshine that are guilded.
+
+    Hence _Oberon_ him sport to make,
+    (Their rest when weary mortalls take)                             50
+    And none but onely _Fayries_ wake,
+      Desendeth for his pleasure.
+    And _Mab_ his meerry Queene by night
+    Bestrids young Folks that lye vpright,
+    (In elder Times the _Mare_ that hight)
+      Which plagues them out of measure.
+
+    Hence Shaddowes, seeming Idle shapes,
+    Of little frisking Elues and Apes,
+    To Earth doe make their wanton skapes,
+      As hope of pastime hasts them:                                  60
+    Which maydes think on the Hearth they see,
+    When Fyers well nere consumed be,
+    Their daunsing Hayes by two and three,
+      Iust as their Fancy casts them.
+
+    These make our Girles their sluttery rue,
+    By pinching them both blacke and blew,
+    And put a penny in their shue,
+      The house for cleanely sweeping:
+    And in their courses make that Round,
+    In Meadowes, and in Marshes found,                                70
+    Of them so call'd the _Fayrie_ ground,
+      Of which they haue the keeping.
+
+    Thus when a Childe haps to be gott,
+    Which after prooues an Ideott,
+    When Folke perceiue it thriueth not,
+      The fault therein to smother:
+    Some silly doting brainlesse Calfe,
+    That vnderstands things by the halfe,
+    Say that the _Fayrie_ left this Aulfe,
+      And tooke away the other.                                       80
+
+    But listen and I shall you tell,
+    A chance in _Fayrie_ that befell,
+    Which certainly may please some well;
+      In Loue and Armes delighting:
+    Of _Oberon_ that Iealous grewe,
+    Of one of his owne _Fayrie_ crue,
+    Too well (he fear'd) his Queene that knew,
+      His loue but ill requiting.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ was this _Fayrie_ knight,
+    One wondrous gratious in the sight                                90
+    Of faire Queene _Mab_, which day and night,
+      He amorously obserued;
+    Which made king _Oberon_ suspect,
+    His Seruice tooke too good effect,
+    His saucinesse, and often checkt,
+      And could have wisht him starued.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ gladly would commend,
+    Some token to queene _Mab_ to send,
+    If Sea, or Land, him ought could lend,
+      Were worthy of her wearing:                                    100
+    At length this Louer doth deuise,
+    A Bracelett made of Emmotts eyes,
+    A thing he thought that shee would prize,
+      No whitt her state impayring.
+
+    And to the Queene a Letter writes,
+    Which he most curiously endites,
+    Coniuring her by all the rites
+      Of loue, she would be pleased,
+    To meete him her true Seruant, where
+    They might without suspect or feare,                             110
+    Themselues to one another cleare,
+      And haue their poore hearts eased.
+
+    At mid-night the appointed hower,
+    And for the Queene a fitting bower,
+    (Quoth he) is that faire Cowslip flower,
+      On _Hipcut_ hill that groweth,
+    In all your Trayne there's not a _Fay_,
+    That euer went to gather May,
+    But she hath made it in her way,
+      The tallest there that groweth.                                120
+
+    When by _Tom Thum_ a Fayrie Page,
+    He sent it, and doth him engage,
+    By promise of a mighty wage,
+      It secretly to carrie:
+    Which done, the Queene her maydes doth call,
+    And bids them to be ready all,
+    She would goe see her Summer Hall,
+      She could no longer tarrie.
+
+    Her Chariot ready straight is made,
+    Each thing therein is fitting layde,                             130
+    That she by nothing might be stayde,
+      For naught must be her letting,
+    Foure nimble Gnats the Horses were,
+    Their Harnasses of Gossamere,
+    Flye Cranion her Chariottere,
+      Vpon the Coach-box getting.
+
+    Her Chariot of a Snayles fine shell,
+    Which for the colours did excell:
+    The faire Queene _Mab_, becomming well,
+      So liuely was the limming:                                     140
+    The seate the soft wooll of the Bee;
+    The couer, (gallantly to see)
+    The wing of a pyde Butterflee,
+      I trowe t'was simple trimming.
+
+    The wheeles compos'd of Crickets bones,
+    And daintily made for the nonce,
+    For feare of ratling on the stones,
+      With Thistle-downe they shod it;
+    For all her Maydens much did feare,
+    If _Oberon_ had chanc'd to heare,                                150
+    That _Mab_ his Queene should haue bin there,
+      He would not haue aboad it.
+
+    She mounts her Chariot with a trice,
+    Nor would she stay for no advice,
+    Vntill her Maydes that were so nice,
+      To wayte on her were fitted,
+    But ranne her selfe away alone;
+    Which when they heard there was not one,
+    But hasted after to be gone,
+      As she had beene diswitted.                                    160
+
+    _Hop_, and _Mop_, and _Drop_ so cleare,
+    _Pip_, and _Trip_, and _Skip_ that were,
+    To _Mab_ their Soueraigne euer deare:
+      Her speciall Maydes of Honour;
+    _Fib_, and _Tib_, and _Pinck_, and _Pin_,
+    _Tick_, and _Quick_, and _Iill_, and _Iin_,
+    _Tit_, and _Nit_, and _Wap_, and _Win_,
+      The Trayne that wayte vpon her.
+
+    Vpon a Grashopper they got,
+    And what with Amble, and with Trot,                              170
+    For hedge nor ditch they spared not,
+      But after her they hie them.
+    A Cobweb ouer them they throw,
+    To shield the winde if it should blowe,
+    Themselues they wisely could bestowe,
+      Lest any should espie them.
+
+    But let vs leaue Queene _Mab_ a while,
+    Through many a gate, o'r many a stile,
+    That now had gotten by this wile,
+      Her deare _Pigwiggin_ kissing,                                 180
+    And tell how _Oberon_ doth fare,
+    Who grew as mad as any Hare,
+    When he had sought each place with care,
+      And found his Queene was missing.
+
+    By grisly _Pluto_ he doth sweare,
+    He rent his cloths, and tore his haire,
+    And as he runneth, here and there,
+      An Acorne cup he greeteth;
+    Which soone he taketh by the stalke
+    About his head he lets it walke,                                 190
+    Nor doth he any creature balke,
+      But lays on all he meeteth.
+
+    The _Thuskan_ Poet doth aduance,
+    The franticke _Paladine_ of France,
+    And those more ancient doe inhaunce,
+      _Alcides_ in his fury.
+    And others _Aiax Telamon_,
+    But to this time there hath bin non,
+    So Bedlam as our _Oberon_,
+      Of which I dare assure you.                                    200
+
+    And first encountring with a waspe,
+    He in his armes the Fly doth claspe
+    As though his breath he forth would graspe,
+      Him for Pigwiggen taking:
+    Where is my wife thou Rogue, quoth he,
+    _Pigwiggen_, she is come to thee,
+    Restore her, or thou dy'st by me,
+      Whereat the poore waspe quaking,
+
+    Cryes, _Oberon_, great _Fayrie_ King,
+    Content thee I am no such thing,                                 210
+    I am a Waspe behold my sting,
+      At which the _Fayrie_ started:
+    When soone away the Waspe doth goe,
+    Poore wretch was neuer frighted so,
+    He thought his wings were much to slow,
+      O'rioyd, they so were parted.
+
+    He next vpon a Glow-worme light,
+    (You must suppose it now was night),
+    Which for her hinder part was bright,
+      He tooke to be a Deuill.                                       220
+    And furiously doth her assaile
+    For carrying fier in her taile
+    He thrasht her rough coat with his flayle,
+      The mad King fear'd no euill.
+
+    O quoth the _Gloworme_ hold thy hand,
+    Thou puisant King of _Fayrie_ land,
+    Thy mighty stroaks who may withstand,
+      Hould, or of life despaire I:
+    Together then her selfe doth roule,
+    And tumbling downe into a hole,                                  230
+    She seem'd as black as any Cole,
+      Which vext away the _Fayrie_.
+
+    From thence he ran into a Hiue,
+    Amongst the Bees he letteth driue
+    And downe their Coombes begins to riue,
+      All likely to haue spoyled:
+    Which with their Waxe his face besmeard,
+    And with their Honey daub'd his Beard
+    It would haue made a man afeard,
+      To see how he was moyled.                                      240
+
+    A new Aduenture him betides,
+    He mett an Ant, which he bestrides,
+    And post thereon away he rides,
+      Which with his haste doth stumble;
+    And came full ouer on her snowte,
+    Her heels so threw the dirt about,
+    For she by no meanes could get out,
+      But ouer him doth tumble.
+
+    And being in this piteous case,
+    And all be-slurried head and face,                               250
+    On runs he in this Wild-goose chase
+      As here, and there, he rambles
+    Halfe blinde, against a molehill hit,
+    And for a Mountaine taking it,
+    For all he was out of his wit,
+      Yet to the top he scrambles.
+
+    And being gotten to the top,
+    Yet there himselfe he could not stop,
+    But downe on th' other side doth chop,
+      And to the foot came rumbling:                                 260
+    So that the Grubs therein that bred,
+    Hearing such turmoyle ouer head,
+    Thought surely they had all bin dead,
+      So fearefull was the Iumbling.
+
+    And falling downe into a Lake,
+    Which him vp to the neck doth take,
+    His fury somewhat it doth slake,
+      He calleth for a Ferry;
+    Where you may some recouery note,
+    What was his Club he made his Boate,                             270
+    And in his Oaken Cup doth float,
+      As safe as in a Wherry.
+
+    Men talke of the Aduentures strange,
+    Of _Don Quishott_, and of their change
+    Through which he Armed oft did range,
+      Of _Sancha Panchas_ trauell:
+    But should a man tell euery thing,
+    Done by this franticke _Fayrie_ king.
+    And them in lofty numbers sing
+      It well his wits might grauell.                                280
+
+    Scarse set on shore, but therewithall,
+    He meeteth _Pucke_, which most men call
+    _Hobgoblin_, and on him doth fall,
+      With words from frenzy spoken;
+    Hoh, hoh, quoth _Hob_, God saue thy grace,
+    Who drest thee in this pitteous case,
+    He thus that spoild my soueraignes face,
+      I would his necke were broken.
+
+    This _Puck_ seemes but a dreaming dolt,
+    Still walking like a ragged Colt,                                290
+    And oft out of a Bush doth bolt,
+      Of purpose to deceiue vs.
+    And leading vs makes vs to stray,
+    Long Winters nights out of the way,
+    And when we stick in mire and clay,
+      _Hob_ doth with laughter leaue vs.
+
+    Deare _Puck_ (quoth he) my wife is gone
+    As ere thou lou'st King _Oberon_,
+    Let euery thing but this alone
+      With vengeance, and pursue her;                                300
+    Bring her to me aliue or dead,
+    Or that vilde thief, _Pigwiggins_ head,
+    That villaine hath defil'd my bed
+      He to this folly drew her.
+
+    Quoth _Puck_, My Liege Ile neuer lin,
+    But I will thorough thicke and thinne,
+    Vntill at length I bring her in,
+      My dearest Lord nere doubt it:
+    Thorough Brake, thorough Brier,
+    Thorough Muck, thorough Mier,                                    310
+    Thorough Water, thorough Fier,
+      And thus goes _Puck_ about it.
+
+    This thing Nimphidia ouer hard
+    That on this mad King had a guard
+    Not doubting of a great reward,
+      For first this businesse broching;
+    And through the ayre away doth goe
+    Swift as an Arrow from the Bowe,
+    To let her Soueraigne _Mab_ to know,
+      What perill was approaching.                                   320
+
+    The Queene bound with Loues powerfulst charme
+    Sate with _Pigwiggen_ arme in arme,
+    Her Merry Maydes that thought no harme,
+      About the roome were skipping:
+    A Humble-Bee their Minstrell, playde
+    Vpon his Hoboy; eu'ry Mayde
+    Fit for this Reuells was arayde,
+      The Hornepype neatly tripping.
+
+    In comes _Nimphidia_, and doth crie,
+    My Soueraigne for your safety flie,                              330
+    For there is danger but too nie,
+      I posted to forewarne you:
+    The King hath sent _Hobgoblin_ out,
+    To seeke you all the Fields about,
+    And of your safety you may doubt,
+      If he but once discerne you.
+
+    When like an vprore in a Towne,
+    Before them euery thing went downe,
+    Some tore a Ruffe, and some a Gowne,
+      Gainst one another iustling:                                   340
+    They flewe about like Chaffe i' th winde,
+    For hast some left their Maskes behinde;
+    Some could not stay their Gloues to finde,
+      There neuer was such bustling.
+
+    Forth ranne they by a secret way,
+    Into a brake that neere them lay;
+    Yet much they doubted there to stay,
+      Lest _Hob_ should hap to find them:
+    He had a sharpe and piercing sight,
+    All one to him the day and night,                                350
+    And therefore were resolu'd by flight,
+      To leave this place behind them.
+
+    At length one chanc'd to find a Nut,
+    In th' end of which a hole was cut,
+    Which lay vpon a Hazell roote,
+      There scatt'red by a Squirill:
+    Which out the kernell gotten had;
+    When quoth this _Fay_ deare Queene be glad,
+    Let _Oberon_ be ne'r so mad,
+      Ile set you safe from perill.                                  360
+
+    Come all into this Nut (quoth she)
+    Come closely in be rul'd by me,
+    Each one may here a chuser be,
+      For roome yee need not wrastle:
+    Nor neede yee be together heapt;
+    So one by one therein they crept,
+    And lying downe they soundly slept,
+      And safe as in a Castle.
+
+    _Nimphidia_ that this while doth watch,
+    Perceiu'd if _Puck_ the Queene should catch                      370
+    That he should be her ouer-match,
+      Of which she well bethought her;
+    Found it must be some powerfull Charme,
+    The Queene against him that must arme,
+    Or surely he would doe her harme,
+      For throughly he had sought her.
+
+    And listning if she ought could heare,
+    That her might hinder, or might feare:
+    But finding still the coast was cleare,
+      Nor creature had discride her;                                 380
+    Each circumstance and hauing scand,
+    She came thereby to vnderstand,
+    _Puck_ would be with them out of hand
+      When to her Charmes she hide her:
+
+    And first her Ferne seede doth bestowe,
+    The kernell of the Missletowe:
+    And here and there as _Puck_ should goe,
+      With terrour to affright him:
+    She Night-shade strawes to work him ill,
+    Therewith her Veruayne and her Dill,                             390
+    That hindreth Witches of their will,
+      Of purpose to dispight him.
+
+    Then sprinkles she the iuice of Rue,
+    That groweth vnderneath the Yeu:
+    With nine drops of the midnight dewe,
+      From Lunarie distilling:
+    The Molewarps braine mixt therewithall;
+    And with the same the Pismyres gall,
+    For she in nothing short would fall;
+      The _Fayrie_ was so willing.                                   400
+
+    Then thrice vnder a Bryer doth creepe,
+    Which at both ends was rooted deepe,
+    And ouer it three times shee leepe;
+      Her Magicke much auayling:
+    Then on _Proserpyna_ doth call,
+    And so vpon her spell doth fall,
+    Which here to you repeate I shall,
+      Not in one tittle fayling.
+
+    By the croking of the Frogge;
+    By the howling of the Dogge;                                     410
+    By the crying of the Hogge,
+      Against the storme arising;
+    By the Euening Curphewe bell;
+    By the dolefull dying knell,
+    O let this my direfull Spell,
+      _Hob_, hinder thy surprising.
+
+    By the Mandrakes dreadfull groanes;
+    By the Lubricans sad moans;
+    By the noyse of dead mens bones,
+      In Charnell houses ratling:                                    420
+    By the hissing of the Snake,
+    The rustling of the fire-Drake,
+    I charge thee thou this place forsake,
+      Nor of Queene _Mab_ be pratling.
+
+    By the Whirlwindes hollow sound,
+    By the Thunders dreadfull stound,
+    Yells of Spirits vnder ground,
+      I chardge thee not to feare vs:
+    By the Shreech-owles dismall note,
+    By the Blacke Night-Rauens throate,                              430
+    I charge thee _Hob_ to teare thy Coate
+      With thornes if thou come neere vs,
+
+    Her Spell thus spoke she stept aside,
+    And in a Chincke her selfe doth hide,
+    To see there of what would betyde,
+      For shee doth onely minde him:
+    When presently shee _Puck_ espies,
+    And well she markt his gloating eyes,
+    How vnder euery leafe he spies,
+      In seeking still to finde them.                                440
+
+    But once the Circle got within,
+    The Charmes to worke doe straight begin,
+    And he was caught as in a Gin;
+      For as he thus was busie,
+    A paine he in his Head-peece feeles,
+    Against a stubbed Tree he reeles,
+    And vp went poore _Hobgoblins_ heeles,
+      Alas his braine was dizzie.
+
+    At length vpon his feete he gets,
+    _Hobgoblin_ fumes, _Hobgoblin_ frets,                            450
+    And as againe he forward sets,
+      And through the Bushes scrambles;
+    A Stump doth trip him in his pace,
+    Down comes poore _Hob_ vpon his face,
+    And lamentably tore his case,
+      Amongst the Bryers and Brambles.
+
+    A plague vpon Queene _Mab_, quoth hee,
+    And all her Maydes where ere they be,
+    I thinke the Deuill guided me,
+      To seeke her so prouoked.                                      460
+    Where stumbling at a piece of Wood,
+    He fell into a dich of mudd,
+    Where to the very Chin he stood,
+      In danger to be choked.
+
+    Now worse than e're he was before:
+    Poore _Puck_ doth yell, poore _Puck_ doth rore;
+    That wak'd Queene _Mab_ who doubted sore
+      Some Treason had been wrought her:
+    Vntill _Nimphidia_ told the Queene
+    What she had done, what she had seene,                           470
+    Who then had well-neere crack'd her spleene
+      With very extreame laughter.
+
+    But leaue we _Hob_ to clamber out:
+    Queene _Mab_ and all her _Fayrie_ rout,
+    And come againe to haue about
+      With _Oberon_ yet madding:
+    And with _Pigwiggen_ now distrought,
+    Who much was troubled in his thought,
+    That he so long the Queene had sought,
+      And through the Fields was gadding.                            480
+
+    And as he runnes he still doth crie,
+    King _Oberon_ I thee defie,
+    And dare thee here in Armes to trie,
+      For my deare Ladies honour:
+    For that she is a Queene right good,
+    In whose defence Ile shed my blood,
+    And that thou in this iealous mood
+      Hast lay'd this slander on her.
+
+    And quickly Armes him for the Field,
+    A little Cockle-shell his Shield,                                490
+    Which he could very brauely wield:
+      Yet could it not be pierced:
+    His Speare a Bent both stiffe and strong,
+    And well-neere of two Inches long;
+    The Pyle was of a Horse-flyes tongue,
+      Whose sharpnesse nought reuersed.
+
+    And puts him on a coate of Male,
+    Which was of a Fishes scale,
+    That when his Foe should him assaile,
+      No poynt should be preuayling:                                 500
+    His Rapier was a Hornets sting,
+    It was a very dangerous thing:
+    For if he chanc'd to hurt the King,
+      It would be long in healing.
+
+    His Helmet was a Bettles head,
+    Most horrible and full of dread,
+    That able was to strike one dead,
+      Yet did it well become him:
+    And for a plume, a horses hayre,
+    Which being tossed with the ayre,                                510
+    Had force to strike his Foe with feare,
+      And turne his weapon from him.
+
+    Himselfe he on an Earewig set,
+    Yet scarce he on his back could get,
+    So oft and high he did coruet,
+      Ere he himselfe could settle:
+    He made him turne, and stop, and bound,
+    To gallop, and to trot the Round,
+    He scarce could stand on any ground,
+      He was so full of mettle.                                      520
+
+    When soone he met with _Tomalin_,
+    One that a valiant Knight had bin,
+    And to King _Oberon_ of kin;
+      Quoth he thou manly _Fayrie_:
+    Tell _Oberon_ I come prepar'd,
+    Then bid him stand vpon his Guard;
+    This hand his basenesse shall reward,
+      Let him be ne'r so wary.
+
+    Say to him thus, that I defie,
+    His slanders, and his infamie,                                   530
+    And as a mortall enemie,
+      Doe publickly proclaime him:
+    Withall, that if I had mine owne,
+    He should not weare the _Fayrie_ Crowne,
+    But with a vengeance should come downe:
+      Nor we a King should name him.
+
+    This _Tomalin_ could not abide,
+    To heare his Soueraigne vilefide:
+    But to the _Fayrie_ Court him hide;
+      Full furiously he posted,                                      540
+    With eu'ry thing _Pigwiggen_ sayd:
+    How title to the Crowne he layd,
+    And in what Armes he was aray'd,
+      As how himselfe he boasted.
+
+    Twixt head and foot, from point to point,
+    He told th'arming of each ioint,
+    In every piece, how neate, and quaint,
+      For _Tomalin_ could doe it:
+    How fayre he sat, how sure he rid,
+    As of the courser he bestrid,                                    550
+    How Mannag'd, and how well he did;
+      The King which listened to it,
+
+    Quoth he, goe _Tomalin_ with speede,
+    Prouide me Armes, prouide my Steed,
+    And euery thing that I shall neede,
+      By thee I will be guided;
+    To strait account, call thou thy witt,
+    See there be wanting not a whitt,
+    In euery thing see thou me fitt,
+      Just as my foes prouided.                                      560
+
+    Soone flewe this newes through _Fayrie_ land
+    Which gaue Queene _Mab_ to vnderstand,
+    The combate that was then in hand,
+      Betwixt those men so mighty:
+    Which greatly she began to rew,
+    Perceuing that all _Fayrie_ knew,
+    The first occasion from her grew,
+      Of these affaires so weighty.
+
+    Wherefore attended with her maides,
+    Through fogs, and mists, and dampes she wades,                   570
+    To _Proserpine_ the Queene of shades
+      To treat, that it would please her,
+    The cause into her hands to take,
+    For ancient loue and friendships sake,
+    And soone therof an end to make,
+      Which of much care would ease her.
+
+    A While, there let we _Mab_ alone,
+    And come we to King _Oberon_,
+    Who arm'd to meete his foe is gone,
+      For Proud _Pigwiggen_ crying:                                  580
+    Who sought the _Fayrie_ King as fast,
+    And had so well his iourneyes cast,
+    That he arriued at the last,
+      His puisant foe espying:
+
+    Stout _Tomalin_ came with the King,
+    _Tom Thum_ doth on _Pigwiggen_ bring,
+    That perfect were in euery thing,
+      To single fights belonging:
+    And therefore they themselues ingage,
+    To see them exercise their rage,                                 590
+    With faire and comely equipage,
+      Not one the other wronging.
+
+    So like in armes, these champions were,
+    As they had bin, a very paire,
+    So that a man would almost sweare,
+      That either, had bin either;
+    Their furious steedes began to naye
+    That they were heard a mighty way,
+    Their staues vpon their rests they lay;
+      Yet e'r they flew together,                                    600
+
+    Their Seconds minister an oath,
+    Which was indifferent to them both,
+    That on their Knightly faith, and troth,
+      No magicke them supplyed;
+    And sought them that they had no charmes,
+    Wherewith to worke each others harmes,
+    But came with simple open armes,
+      To haue their causes tryed.
+
+    Together furiously they ran,
+    That to the ground came horse and man,                           610
+    The blood out of their Helmets span,
+      So sharpe were their incounters;
+    And though they to the earth were throwne,
+    Yet quickly they regain'd their owne,
+    Such nimblenesse was neuer showne,
+      They were two Gallant Mounters.
+
+    When in a second Course againe,
+    They forward came with might and mayne,
+    Yet which had better of the twaine,
+      The Seconds could not iudge yet;                               620
+    Their shields were into pieces cleft,
+    Their helmets from their heads were reft,
+    And to defend them nothing left,
+      These Champions would not budge yet.
+
+    Away from them their Staues they threw,
+    Their cruell Swords they quickly drew,
+    And freshly they the fight renew;
+      They euery stroke redoubled:
+    Which made _Proserpina_ take heed,
+    And make to them the greater speed,                              630
+    For fear lest they too much should bleed,
+      Which wondrously her troubled.
+
+    When to th' infernall _Stix_ she goes,
+    She takes the Fogs from thence that rose,
+    And in a Bagge doth them enclose;
+      When well she had them blended:
+    She hyes her then to _Lethe_ spring,
+    A Bottell and thereof doth bring,
+    Wherewith she meant to worke the thing,
+      Which onely she intended.                                      640
+
+    Now _Proserpine_ with _Mab_ is gone
+    Vnto the place where _Oberon_
+    And proud _Pigwiggen_, one to one,
+      Both to be slaine were likely:
+    And there themselues they closely hide,
+    Because they would not be espide;
+    For _Proserpine_ meant to decide
+      The matter very quickly.
+
+    And suddainly vntyes the Poke,
+    Which out of it sent such a smoke,                               650
+    As ready was them all to choke,
+      So greeuous was the pother;
+    So that the Knights each other lost,
+    And stood as still as any post,
+    _Tom Thum_, nor _Tomalin_ could boast
+      Themselues of any other.
+
+    But when the mist gan somewhat cease,
+    _Proserpina_ commanded peace:
+    And that a while they should release,
+      Each other of their perill:                                    660
+    Which here (quoth she) I doe proclaime
+    To all in dreadfull _Plutos_ name,
+    That as yee will eschewe his blame,
+      You let me heare the quarrell,
+
+    But here your selues you must engage,
+    Somewhat to coole your spleenish rage:
+    Your greeuous thirst and to asswage,
+      That first you drinke this liquor:
+    Which shall your vnderstanding cleare,
+    As plainely shall to you appeare;                                670
+    Those things from me that you shall heare,
+      Conceiuing much the quicker.
+
+    This _Lethe_ water you must knowe,
+    The memory destroyeth so,
+    That of our weale, or of our woe,
+      It all remembrance blotted;
+    Of it nor can you euer thinke:
+    For they no sooner tooke this drinke,
+    But nought into their braines could sinke,
+      Of what had them besotted.                                     680
+
+    King _Oberon_ forgotten had,
+    That he for iealousie ranne mad:
+    But of his Queene was wondrous glad,
+      And ask'd how they came thither:
+    _Pigwiggen_ likewise doth forget,
+    That he Queene _Mab_ had euer met;
+    Or that they were so hard beset,
+      When they were found together.
+
+    Nor neither of them both had thought,
+    That e'r they had each other sought;                             690
+    Much lesse that they a Combat fought,
+      But such a dreame were lothing:
+    _Tom Thum_ had got a little sup,
+    And _Tomalin_ scarce kist the Cup,
+    Yet had their braines so sure lockt vp,
+      That they remembred nothing.
+
+    Queene _Mab_ and her light Maydes the while,
+    Amongst themselues doe closely smile,
+    To see the King caught with this wile,
+      With one another testing:                                      700
+    And to the _Fayrie_ Court they went,
+    With mickle ioy and merriment,
+    Which thing was done with good intent,
+      And thus I left them feasting.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE QVEST OF CYNTHIA
+
+
+    What time the groues were clad in greene,
+      The Fields drest all in flowers,
+    And that the sleeke-hayred Nimphs were seene,
+      To seeke them Summer Bowers.
+
+    Forth rou'd I by the sliding Rills,
+      To finde where CYNTHIA sat,
+    Whose name so often from the hills,
+      The Ecchos wondred at.
+
+    When me vpon my Quest to bring,
+      That pleasure might excell,                                     10
+    The Birds stroue which should sweetliest sing,
+      The Flowers which sweet'st should smell.
+
+    Long wand'ring in the Woods (said I)
+      Oh whether's CYNTHIA gone?
+    When soone the Eccho doth reply,
+      To my last word, goe on.
+
+    At length vpon a lofty Firre,
+      It was my chance to finde,
+    Where that deare name most due to her,
+      Was caru'd vpon the rynde.                                      20
+
+    Which whilst with wonder I beheld,
+      The Bees their hony brought,
+    And vp the carued letters fild,
+      As they with gould were wrought.
+
+    And neere that trees more spacious roote,
+      Then looking on the ground,
+    The shape of her most dainty foot,
+      Imprinted there I found.
+
+    Which stuck there like a curious seale,
+      As though it should forbid                                      30
+    Vs, wretched mortalls, to reueale,
+      What vnder it was hid.
+
+    Besides the flowers which it had pres'd,
+      Apeared to my vew,
+    More fresh and louely than the rest,
+      That in the meadowes grew:
+
+    The cleere drops in the steps that stood,
+      Of that dilicious Girle,
+    The Nimphes amongst their dainty food,
+      Drunke for dissolued pearle.                                    40
+
+    The yeilding sand, where she had troad,
+      Vntutcht yet with the winde,
+    By the faire posture plainely show'd,
+      Where I might _Cynthia_ finde.
+
+    When on vpon my waylesse walke,
+      As my desires me draw,
+    I like a madman fell to talke,
+      With euery thing I saw:
+
+    I ask'd some Lillyes why so white,
+      They from their fellowes were;                                  50
+    Who answered me, that _Cynthia's_ sight,
+      Had made them looke so cleare:
+
+    I ask'd a nodding Violet why,
+      It sadly hung the head,
+    It told me _Cynthia_ late past by,
+      Too soone from it that fled:
+
+    A bed of Roses saw I there,
+      Bewitching with their grace:
+    Besides so wondrous sweete they were,
+      That they perfum'd the place,                                   60
+
+    I of a Shrube of those enquir'd,
+      From others of that kind,
+    Who with such virtue them enspir'd,
+      It answer'd (to my minde).
+
+    As the base Hemblocke were we such,
+      The poysned'st weed that growes,
+    Till _Cynthia_ by her god-like tuch,
+      Transform'd vs to the Rose:
+
+    Since when those Frosts that winter brings
+      Which candy euery greene,                                       70
+    Renew vs like the Teeming Springs,
+      And we thus Fresh are scene.
+
+    At length I on a Fountaine light,
+      Whose brim with Pincks was platted;
+    The Banck with Daffadillies dight,
+      With grasse like Sleaue was matted,
+
+    When I demanded of that Well,
+      What power frequented there;
+    Desiring, it would please to tell
+      What name it vsde to beare.                                     80
+
+    It tolde me it was _Cynthias_ owne,
+      Within whose cheerefull brimmes,
+    That curious Nimph had oft beene knowne
+      To bath her snowy Limmes.
+
+    Since when that Water had the power,
+      Lost Mayden-heads to restore,
+    And make one Twenty in an howre,
+      Of _Esons_ age before.
+
+    And told me that the bottome cleere,
+      Now layd with many a fett                                       90
+    Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there:
+      Was knowne as blacke as Jet,
+
+    As when she from the water came,
+      Where first she touch'd the molde,
+    In balls the people made the same
+      For Pomander, and solde.
+
+    When chance me to an Arbour led,
+      Whereas I might behold:
+    Two blest _Elizeums_ in one sted,
+      The lesse the great enfold.                                    100
+
+    The place which she had chosen out,
+      Her selfe in to repose;
+    Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt
+      The very same had chose.
+
+    The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore
+      That sweet, nor dainty flower
+    That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore
+      Of CYNTHIAS Summer Bower.
+
+    The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay,
+      Like Friends did all embrace;                                  110
+    And their large branches did display,
+      To Canapy the place.
+
+    Where she like VENVS doth appeare,
+      Vpon a Rosie bed;
+    As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare,
+      Whereon she layd her head.
+
+    Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd,
+      And with such bounties blest:
+    No lim of hers but might haue made
+      A Goddesse at the least.                                       120
+
+    The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre,
+      By the bright Radience throwne
+    From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare,
+      They so like Diamonds shone.
+
+    The meanest weede the soyle there bare,
+      Her breath did so refine,
+    That it with Woodbynd durst compare,
+      And beard the Eglantine.
+
+    The dewe which on the tender grasse,
+      The Euening had distill'd,                                     130
+    To pure Rose-water turned was,
+      The shades with sweets that fill'd.
+
+    The windes were husht, no leafe so small
+      At all was scene to stirre:
+    Whilst tuning to the waters fall,
+      The small Birds sang to her.
+
+    Where she too quickly me espies,
+      When I might plainely see,
+    A thousand _Cupids_ from her eyes
+      Shoote all at once at me.                                      140
+
+    Into these secret shades (quoth she)
+      How dar'st thou be so bold
+    To enter, consecrate to me,
+      Or touch this hallowed mold.
+
+    Those words (quoth she) I can pronounce,
+      Which to that shape can bring
+    Thee, which the Hunter had who once
+      Sawe _Dian_ in the Spring.
+
+    Bright Nimph againe I thus replie,
+      This cannot me affright:                                       150
+    I had rather in thy presence die,
+      Then liue out of thy sight.
+
+    I first vpon the Mountaines hie,
+      Built Altars to thy name;
+    And grau'd it on the Rocks thereby,
+      To propogate thy fame.
+
+    I taught the Shepheards on the Downes,
+      Of thee to frame their Layes:
+    T'was I that fill'd the neighbouring Townes,
+      With Ditties of thy praise.                                    160
+
+    Thy colours I deuis'd with care,
+      Which were vnknowne before:
+    Which since that, in their braded hayre
+      The Nimphes and Siluans wore.
+
+    Transforme me to what shape you can,
+      I passe not what it be:
+    Yea what most hatefull is to man,
+      So I may follow thee.
+
+    Which when she heard full pearly floods,
+      I in her eyes might view:                                      170
+    (Quoth she) most welcome to these Woods,
+      Too meane for one so true.
+
+    Here from the hatefull world we'll liue,
+      A den of mere dispight:
+    To Ideots only that doth giue,
+      Which be her sole delight.
+
+    To people the infernall pit,
+      That more and more doth striue;
+    Where only villany is wit,
+      And Diuels only thriue.                                        180
+
+    Whose vilenesse vs shall neuer awe:
+      But here our sports shall be:
+    Such as the golden world first sawe,
+      Most innocent and free.
+
+    Of Simples in these Groues that growe,
+      Wee'll learne the perfect skill;
+    The nature of each Herbe to knowe
+      Which cures, and which can kill.
+
+    The waxen Pallace of the Bee,
+      We seeking will surprise                                       190
+    The curious workmanship to see,
+      Of her full laden thighes.
+
+    Wee'll suck the sweets out of the Combe,
+      And make the gods repine:
+    As they doe feast in _Ioues_ great roome,
+      To see with what we dine.
+
+    Yet when there haps a honey fall,
+      Wee'll lick the sirupt leaues:
+    And tell the Bees that their's is gall,
+      To this vpon the Greaues.                                      200
+
+    The nimble Squirrell noting here,
+      Her mossy Dray that makes,
+    And laugh to see the lusty Deere
+      Come bounding ore the brakes.
+
+    The Spiders Webb to watch weele stand,
+      And when it takes the Bee,
+    Weele helpe out of the Tyrants hand,
+      The Innocent to free.
+
+    Sometime weele angle at the Brooke,
+      The freckled Trout to take,                                    210
+    With silken Wormes, and bayte the hooke,
+      Which him our prey shall make.
+
+    Of medling with such subtile tooles,
+      Such dangers that enclose,
+    The Morrall is that painted Fooles,
+      Are caught with silken showes.
+
+    And when the Moone doth once appeare,
+      Weele trace the lower grounds,
+    When _Fayries_ in their Ringlets there
+      Do daunce their nightly rounds.                                220
+
+    And haue a Flocke of Turtle Doues,
+      A guard on vs to keepe,
+    A witnesse of our honest loues,
+      To watch vs till we sleepe.
+
+    Which spoke I felt such holy fires
+      To ouerspred my breast,
+    As lent life to my Chast desires
+      And gaue me endlesse rest.
+
+    By _Cynthia_ thus doe I subsist,
+      On earth Heauens onely pride,                                  230
+    Let her be mine, and let who list,
+      Take all the world beside.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEPHEARDS SIRENA
+
+
+          DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,
+          Autumne waxing olde and chill,
+          As he sate his Flocks to keepe
+          Vnderneath an easie hill:
+          Chanc'd to cast his eye aside
+          On those fields, where he had scene,
+          Bright SIRENA Natures pride,
+          Sporting on the pleasant greene:
+          To whose walkes the Shepheards oft,
+          Came her god-like foote to finde,                           10
+          And in places that were soft,
+          Kist the print there left behinde;
+          Where the path which she had troad,
+          Hath thereby more glory gayn'd,
+          Then in heau'n that milky rode,
+          Which with Nectar _Hebe_ stayn'd:
+          But bleake Winters boystrous blasts,
+          Now their fading pleasures chid,
+          And so fill'd them with his wastes,
+          That from sight her steps were hid.                         20
+          Silly Shepheard sad the while,
+          For his sweet SIRENA gone,
+          All his pleasures in exile:
+          Layd on the colde earth alone.
+          Whilst his gamesome cut-tayld Curre,
+          With his mirthlesse Master playes,
+          Striuing him with sport to stirre,
+          As in his more youthfull dayes,
+          DORILVS his Dogge doth chide,
+          Layes his well-tun'd Bagpype by,                            30
+          And his Sheep-hooke casts aside,
+          There (quoth he) together lye.
+          When a Letter forth he tooke,
+          Which to him SIRENA writ,
+          With a deadly down-cast looke,
+          And thus fell to reading it.
+          DORILVS my deare (quoth she)
+          Kinde Companion of my woe,
+          Though we thus diuided be,
+          Death cannot diuorce vs so:                                 40
+          Thou whose bosome hath beene still,
+          Th' onely Closet of my care,
+          And in all my good and ill,
+          Euer had thy equall share:
+          Might I winne thee from thy Fold,
+          Thou shouldst come to visite me,
+          But the Winter is so cold,
+          That I feare to hazard thee:
+          The wilde waters are waxt hie,
+          So they are both deafe and dumbe,                           50
+          Lou'd they thee so well as I,
+          They would ebbe when thou shouldst come;
+          Then my coate with light should shine,
+          Purer then the Vestall fire:
+          Nothing here but should be thine,
+          That thy heart can well desire:
+          Where at large we will relate,
+          From what cause our friendship grewe,
+          And in that the varying Fate,
+          Since we first each other knewe:                            60
+          Of my heauie passed plight,
+          As of many a future feare,
+          Which except the silent night,
+          None but onely thou shalt heare;
+          My sad hurt it shall releeue,
+          When my thoughts I shall disclose,
+          For thou canst not chuse but greeue,
+          When I shall recount my woes;
+          There is nothing to that friend,
+          To whose close vncranied brest,                             70
+          We our secret thoughts may send,
+          And there safely let it rest:
+          And thy faithfull counsell may,
+          My distressed case assist,
+          Sad affliction else may sway
+          Me a woman as it list:
+          Hither I would haue thee haste,
+          Yet would gladly haue thee stay,
+          When those dangers I forecast,
+          That may meet thee by the way,                              80
+          Doe as thou shalt thinke it best,
+          Let thy knowledge be thy guide,
+          Liue thou in my constant breast,
+          Whatsoeuer shall betide.
+          He her Letter hauing red,
+          Puts it in his Scrip againe,
+          Looking like a man halfe dead,
+          By her kindenesse strangely slaine;
+          And as one who inly knew,
+          Her distressed present state,                               90
+          And to her had still been true,
+          Thus doth with himselfe debate.
+          I will not thy face admire,
+          Admirable though it bee,
+          Nor thine eyes whose subtile fire
+          So much wonder winne in me:
+          But my maruell shall be now,
+          (And of long it hath bene so)
+          Of all Woman kind that thou
+          Wert ordain'd to taste of woe;                             100
+          To a Beauty so diuine,
+          Paradise in little done,
+          O that Fortune should assigne,
+          Ought but what thou well mightst shun,
+          But my counsailes such must bee,
+          (Though as yet I them conceale)
+          By their deadly wound in me,
+          They thy hurt must onely heale,
+          Could I giue what thou do'st craue
+          To that passe thy state is growne,                         110
+          I thereby thy life may saue,
+          But am sure to loose mine owne,
+          To that ioy thou do'st conceiue,
+          Through my heart, the way doth lye,
+          Which in two for thee must claue
+          Least that thou shouldst goe awry.
+          Thus my death must be a toy,
+          Which my pensiue breast must couer;
+          Thy beloued to enioy,
+          Must be taught thee by thy Louer.                          120
+          Hard the Choise I haue to chuse,
+          To my selfe if friend I be,
+          I must my SIRENA loose,
+          If not so, shee looseth me.
+          Thus whilst he doth cast about,
+          What therein were best to doe,
+          Nor could yet resolue the doubt,
+          Whether he should stay or goe:
+          In those Feilds not farre away,
+          There was many a frolike Swaine,                           130
+          In fresh Russets day by day,
+          That kept Reuells on the Plaine.
+          Nimble TOM, sirnam'd the _Tup_,
+          For his Pipe without a Peere,
+          And could tickle _Trenchmore_ vp,
+          As t'would ioy your heart to heare.
+          RALPH as much renown'd for skill,
+          That the _Taber_ touch'd so well;
+          For his _Gittern_, little GILL,
+          That all other did excell.                                 140
+          ROCK and ROLLO euery way,
+          Who still led the Rusticke Ging,
+          And could troule a Roundelay,
+          That would make the Feilds to ring,
+          COLLIN on his _Shalme_ so cleare,
+          Many a high-pitcht Note that had,
+          And could make the Eechos nere
+          Shout as they were wexen mad.
+          Many a lusty Swaine beside,
+          That for nought but pleasure car'd,                        150
+          Hauing DORILVS espy'd,
+          And with him knew how it far'd.
+          Thought from him they would remoue,
+          This strong melancholy fitt,
+          Or so, should it not behoue,
+          Quite to put him out of 's witt;
+          Hauing learnt a Song, which he
+          Sometime to Sirena sent,
+          Full of Iollity and glee,
+          When the Nimph liu'd neere to _Trent_                      160
+          They behinde him softly gott,
+          Lying on the earth along,
+          And when he suspected not,
+          Thus the Iouiall Shepheards song.
+
+          Neare to the Siluer _Trent_,
+            _Sirena_ dwelleth:
+          Shee to whom Nature lent
+            All that excelleth:
+          By which the _Muses_ late,
+            And the neate _Graces_,                                  170
+          Haue for their greater state
+            Taken their places:
+          Twisting an _Anadem_,
+            Wherewith to Crowne her,
+          As it belong'd to them
+            Most to renowne her.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let the Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,                                   180
+            Along let them bring her._
+
+          _Tagus_ and _Pactolus_
+            Are to thee Debter,
+          Nor for their gould to vs
+            Are they the better:
+          Henceforth of all the rest,
+            Be thou the Riuer,
+          Which as the daintiest,
+            Puts them downe euer,
+          For as my precious one,                                    190
+            O'r thee doth trauell,
+          She to Pearl Parragon
+            Turneth thy grauell.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Our mournefull _Philomell_,
+            That rarest Tuner,                                       200
+          Henceforth in _Aperill_
+            Shall wake the sooner,
+          And to her shall complaine
+            From the thicke Couer,
+          Redoubling euery straine
+            Ouer and ouer:
+          For when my Loue too long
+            Her Chamber keepeth;
+          As though it suffered wrong,
+            The Morning weepeth.                                     210
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Oft have I seene the Sunne
+            To doe her honour.
+          Fix himselfe at his noone,
+            To look vpon her,
+          And hath guilt euery Groue,                                220
+            Euery Hill neare her,
+          With his flames from aboue,
+            Striuing to cheere her,
+          And when shee from his sight
+            Hath her selfe turned,
+          He as it had beene night,
+            In Cloudes hath mourned.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,                                   230
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Verdant Meades are seene,
+            When she doth view them,
+          In fresh and gallant Greene,
+            Straight to renewe them,
+          And euery little Grasse
+            Broad it selfe spreadeth,
+          Proud that this bonny Lasse
+            Vpon it treadeth:                                        240
+          Nor flower is so sweete
+            In this large Cincture
+          But it upon her feete
+            Leaueth some Tincture.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with thy Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Fishes in the Flood,                                   250
+            When she doth Angle,
+          For the Hooke striue a good
+            Them to intangle;
+          And leaping on the Land
+            From the cleare water,
+          Their Scales vpon the sand,
+            Lauishly scatter;
+          Therewith to paue the mould
+            Whereon she passes,
+          So her selfe to behold,                                    260
+            As in her glasses.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          When shee lookes out by night,
+            The Starres stand gazing,
+          Like Commets to our sight
+            Fearefully blazing,                                      270
+          As wondring at her eyes
+            With their much brightnesse,
+          Which to amaze the skies,
+            Dimming their lightnesse,
+          The raging Tempests are Calme,
+            When shee speaketh,
+          Such most delightsome balme
+            From her lips breaketh.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke,
+              In a Rancke_, &c.                                      280
+
+          In all our _Brittany_,
+            Ther's not a fayrer,
+          Nor can you fitt any:
+            Should you compare her.
+          Angels her eye-lids keepe
+            All harts surprizing,
+          Which looke whilst she doth sleepe
+            Like the Sunnes rising:
+          She alone of her kinde
+            Knoweth true measure                                     290
+          And her vnmatched mind
+            Is Heauens treasure:
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Fayre _Doue_ and _Darwine_ cleere
+            Boast yee your beauties,
+          To _Trent_ your Mistres here                               300
+            Yet pay your duties,
+          My Loue was higher borne
+            Tow'rds the full Fountaines,
+          Yet she doth _Moorland_ scorne,
+            And the _Peake_ Mountaines;
+          Nor would she none should dreame,
+            Where she abideth,
+          Humble as is the streame,
+            Which by her slydeth,
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,                                        310
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swannes sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Yet my poore Rusticke _Muse_,
+            Nothing can moue her,
+          Nor the means I can vse,
+            Though her true Louer:
+          Many a long Winters night,
+            Haue I wak'd for her,                                    320
+          Yet this my piteous plight,
+            Nothing can stirre her.
+          All thy Sands siluer _Trent_
+            Downe to the _Humber_,
+          The sighes I haue spent
+            Neuer can number.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swans sing her
+            And with their Musicke                                   330
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Taken with this suddaine Song,
+          Least for mirth when he doth look
+          His sad heart more deeply stong,
+          Then the former care he tooke.
+          At their laughter and amaz'd,
+          For a while he sat aghast
+          But a little hauing gaz'd,
+          Thus he them bespake at last.
+          Is this time for mirth (quoth he)                          340
+          To a man with griefe opprest,
+          Sinfull wretches as you be,
+          May the sorrowes in my breast,
+          Light vpon you one by one,
+          And as now you mocke my woe,
+          When your mirth is turn'd to moane;
+          May your like then serue you so.
+            When one Swaine among the rest
+          Thus him merrily bespake,
+          Get thee vp thou arrant beast                              350
+          Fits this season loue to make?
+          Take thy Sheephooke in thy hand,
+          Clap thy Curre and set him on,
+          For our fields 'tis time to stand,
+          Or they quickly will be gon.
+          Rougish Swinheards that repine
+          At our Flocks, like beastly Clownes,
+          Sweare that they will bring their Swine,
+          And will wroote vp all our Downes:
+          They their Holly whips haue brac'd,                        360
+          And tough Hazell goades haue gott;
+          Soundly they your sides will baste,
+          If their courage faile them not.
+          Of their purpose if they speed,
+          Then your Bagpypes you may burne,
+          It is neither Droane nor Reed
+          Shepheard, that will serue your turne:
+          Angry OLCON sets them on,
+          And against vs part doth take
+          Euer since he was out-gone,                                370
+          Offring Rymes with us to make.
+          Yet if so our Sheepe-hookes hold,
+          Dearely shall our Downes be bought,
+          For it neuer shall be told,
+          We our Sheep-walkes sold for naught.
+          And we here haue got vs Dogges,
+          Best of all the Westerne breed,
+          Which though Whelps shall lug their Hogges,
+          Till they make their eares to bleed:
+          Therefore Shepheard come away.                             380
+          When as DORILVS arose,
+          Whistles Cut-tayle from his play,
+          And along with them he goes.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE MVSES ELIZIVM
+
+The Description of Elizium
+
+
+    A Paradice on earth is found,
+      Though farre from vulgar sight,
+    Which with those pleasures doth abound
+      That it _Elizium_ hight.
+
+    Where, in Delights that neuer fade,
+      The Muses lulled be,
+    And sit at pleasure in the shade
+      Of many a stately tree,
+
+    Which no rough Tempest makes to reele
+      Nor their straight bodies bowes,                                10
+    Their lofty tops doe neuer feele
+      The weight of winters snowes;
+
+    In Groues that euermore are greene,
+      No falling leafe is there,
+    But _Philomel_ (of birds the Queene)
+      In Musicke spends the yeare.
+
+    The _Merle_ vpon her mertle Perch,
+      There to the _Mavis_ sings,
+    Who from the top of some curld Berch
+      Those notes redoubled rings;                                    20
+
+    There Daysyes damaske euery place
+      Nor once their beauties lose,
+    That when proud _Phœbus_ hides his face
+      Themselues they scorne to close.
+
+    The Pansy and the Violet here,
+      As seeming to descend,
+    Both from one Root, a very payre,
+      For sweetnesse yet contend,
+
+    And pointing to a Pinke to tell
+      Which beares it, it is loath,                                   30
+    To iudge it; but replyes for smell
+      That it excels them both.
+
+    Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads
+      So angry soone they grow
+    And from their odoriferous beds
+      Their sweets at it they throw.
+
+    The winter here a Summer is,
+      No waste is made by time,
+    Nor doth the Autumne euer misse
+      The blossomes of the Prime.                                     40
+
+    The flower that Iuly forth doth bring
+      In Aprill here is seene,
+    The Primrose that puts on the Spring
+      In Iuly decks each Greene.
+
+    The sweets for soueraignty contend
+      And so abundant be,
+    That to the very Earth they lend
+      And Barke of euery Tree:
+
+    Rills rising out of euery Banck,
+      In wild Meanders strayne,                                       50
+    And playing many a wanton pranck
+      Vpon the speckled plaine,
+
+    In Gambols and lascivious Gyres
+      Their time they still bestow
+    Nor to their Fountaines none retyres,
+      Nor on their course will goe.
+
+    Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt,
+      So proud and wanton made,
+    That they their courses quite neglect:
+      And seeme as though they stayde,                                60
+
+    Faire _Flora_ in her state to viewe
+      Which through those Lillies looks,
+    Or as those Lillies leand to shew
+      Their beauties to the brooks.
+
+    That _Phœbus_in his lofty race,
+      Oft layes aside his beames
+    And comes to coole his glowing face
+      In these delicious streames;
+
+    Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues,
+      Whose ripned clusters there,                                    70
+    Their liquid purple drop, which driues
+      A Vintage through the yeere.
+
+    Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad
+      With Trees of sundry sutes,
+    Which make continuall summer glad,
+      Euen bending with their fruits,
+
+    Some ripening, ready some to fall,
+      Some blossom'd, some to bloome,
+    Like gorgeous hangings on the wall
+      Of some rich princely Roome:                                    80
+
+    _Pomegranates_, _Lymons_, _Cytrons_, so
+      Their laded branches bow,
+    Their leaues in number that outgoe
+      Nor roomth will them alow.
+
+    There in perpetuall Summers shade,
+      _Apolloes_ Prophets sit,
+    Among the flowres that neuer fade,
+      But flowrish like their wit;
+
+    To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres,
+      Tune many a curious lay,                                        90
+    And with their most melodious Quires
+      Make short the longest day.
+
+    The _thrice three Virgins_ heavenly Cleere,
+      Their trembling Timbrels sound,
+    Whilst the three comely Graces there
+      Dance many a dainty Round,
+
+    Decay nor Age there nothing knowes,
+      There is continuall Youth,
+    As Time on plant or creatures growes,
+      So still their strength renewth.                               100
+
+    The Poets Paradice this is,
+      To which but few can come;
+    The Muses onely bower of blisse
+      Their Deare _Elizium_.
+
+    Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers,
+      Free from the rude resort
+    Of beastly people) spend the houres,
+      In harmelesse mirth and sport,
+
+    Then on to the _Elizian_ plaines
+      _Apollo_ doth invite you                                       110
+    Where he prouides with pastorall straines,
+      In Nimphals to delight you.
+
+
+The first Nimphall
+
+RODOPE and DORIDA.
+
+        _This Nimphall of delights doth treat,
+        Choice beauties, and proportions neat,
+        Of curious shapes, and dainty features
+        Describd in two most perfect creatures._
+
+    When _Phœbus_ with a face of mirth,
+    Had flong abroad his beames,
+    To blanch the bosome of the earth,
+    And glaze the gliding streames.
+    Within a goodly Mertle groue,
+    Vpon that hallowed day
+    The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue
+    Their vowes were vsde to pay.
+    Faire _Rodope_ and _Dorida_
+    Met in those sacred shades,                                       10
+    Then whom the Sunne in all his way,
+    Nere saw two daintier Maids.
+    And through the thickets thrild his fires,
+    Supposing to haue seene
+    The soueraigne _Goddesse of desires_,
+    Or _Ioves Emperious Queene_:
+    Both of so wondrous beauties were,
+    In shape both so excell,
+    That to be paraleld elsewhere,
+    No iudging eye could tell.                                        20
+    And their affections so surpasse,
+    As well it might be deemd,
+    That th' one of them the other was,
+    And but themselues they seem'd.
+    And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place,
+    Disposed were to play
+    At Barly-breake and Prison-base,
+    Doe passe the time away:
+    This peerlesse payre together set,
+    The other at their sport,                                         30
+    None neare their free discourse to let,
+    Each other thus they court,
+
+      _Dorida._ My sweet, my soueraigne _Rodope_,
+    My deare delight, my loue,
+    That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me,
+    I to this Bracelet woue;
+    Which brighter euery day doth grow
+    The longer it is worne,
+    As its delicious fellowes doe,
+    Thy Temples that adorne.                                          40
+
+      _Rodope._ Nay had I thine my _Dorida_,
+    I would them so bestow,
+    As that the winde vpon my way,
+    Might backward make them flow,
+    So should it in its greatst excesse
+    Turne to becalmed ayre,
+    And quite forget all boistrousnesse
+    To play with euery hayre.
+
+      _Dorida._ To me like thine had nature giuen,
+    A Brow, so Archt, so cleere,                                      50
+    A Front, wherein so much of heauen
+    Doth to each eye appeare,
+    The world should see, I would strike dead
+    The Milky Way that's now,
+    And say that Nectar _Hebe_ shed
+    Fell all vpon my Brow.
+
+      _Rodope._ O had I eyes like _Doridaes_,
+    I would inchant the day
+    And make the Sunne to stand at gaze,
+    Till he forget his way:                                           60
+    And cause his Sister _Queene of Streames_,
+    When so I list by night;
+    By her much blushing at my Beames
+    T' eclipse her borrowed light.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Cheeke like _Rodopes_,
+    In midst of which doth stand,
+    A Groue of Roses, such as these,
+    In such a snowy land:
+    I would then make the Lilly which we now
+    So much for whitenesse name,                                      70
+    As drooping downe the head to bow,
+    And die for very shame.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a bosome like to thine,
+    When I it pleas'd to show,
+    T' what part o' th' Skie I would incline
+    I would make th' Etheriall bowe,
+    My swannish breast brancht all with blew,
+    In brauery like the spring:
+    In Winter to the generall view
+    Full Summer forth should bring.                                   80
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a body like my deare,
+    Were I so straight so tall,
+    O, if so broad my shoulders were,
+    Had I a waste so small;
+    I would challenge the proud Queene of loue
+    To yeeld to me for shape,
+    And I should feare that _Mars_ or _Iove_
+    Would venter for my rape.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a hand like thee my Gerle,
+    (This hand O let me kisse)                                        90
+    These Ivory Arrowes pyl'd with pearle,
+    Had I a hand like this;
+    I would not doubt at all to make,
+    Each finger of my hand
+    To taske swift _Mercury_ to take
+    With his inchanting wand.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Theigh like Rodopes;
+    Which twas my chance to viewe,
+    When lying on yon banck at ease,
+    The wind thy skirt vp blew,                                      100
+    I would say it were a columne wrought
+    To some intent Diuine,
+    And for our chaste _Diana_ sought,
+    A pillar for her shryne.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a Leg but like to thine
+    That were so neat, so cleane,
+    A swelling Calfe, a Small so fine,
+    An Ankle, round and leane,
+    I would tell nature she doth misse
+    Her old skill; and maintaine,                                    110
+    She shewd her master peece in this,
+    Not to be done againe.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I that Foot hid in those shoos,
+    (Proportion'd to my height)
+    Short Heele, thin Instep, euen Toes,
+    A Sole so wondrous straight,
+    The Forresters and Nimphes at this
+    Amazed all should stand,
+    And kneeling downe, should meekely kisse
+    The Print left in the sand.                                      120
+
+    By this the Nimphes came from their sport,
+    All pleased wondrous well,
+    And to these Maydens make report
+    What lately them befell:
+    One said the dainty _Lelipa_
+    Did all the rest out-goe,
+    Another would a wager lay
+    She would outstrip a Roe;
+    Sayes one, how like you _Florimel_
+    There is your dainty face:                                       130
+    A fourth replide, she lik't that well,
+    Yet better lik't her grace,
+    She's counted, I confesse, quoth she,
+    To be our onely Pearle,
+    Yet haue I heard her oft to be
+    A melancholy Gerle.
+    Another said she quite mistoke,
+    That onely was her art,
+    When melancholly had her looke
+    Then mirth was in her heart;                                     140
+    And hath she then that pretty trick
+    Another doth reply,
+    I thought no Nimph could haue bin sick
+    Of that disease but I;
+    I know you can dissemble well
+    Quoth one to giue you due,
+    But here be some (who Ile not tell)
+    Can do't as well as you,
+    Who thus replies, I know that too,
+    We haue it from our Mother,                                      150
+    Yet there be some this thing can doe
+    More cunningly then other:
+    If Maydens but dissemble can
+    Their sorrow and ther ioy,
+    Their pore dissimulation than,
+    Is but a very toy.
+
+
+The second Nimphall
+
+LALVS, CLEON, and LIROPE.
+
+                  _The Muse new Courtship doth deuise,
+                  By Natures strange Varieties,
+                  Whose Rarieties she here relates,
+                  And giues you Pastorall Delicates._
+
+              _Lalus_ a Iolly youthfull Lad,
+              With _Cleon_, no lesse crown'd
+              With vertues; both their beings had
+              On the Elizian ground.
+              Both hauing parts so excellent,
+              That it a question was,
+              Which should be the most eminent,
+              Or did in ought surpasse:
+              This _Cleon_ was a Mountaineer,
+              And of the wilder kinde,                                10
+              And from his birth had many a yeere
+              Bin nurst vp by a Hinde.
+              And as the sequell well did show,
+              It very well might be;
+              For neuer Hart, nor Hare, nor Roe,
+              Were halfe so swift as he.
+              But _Lalus_ in the Vale was bred,
+              Amongst the Sheepe and Neate,
+              And by these Nimphes there choicly fed,
+              With Hony, Milke, and Wheate;                           20
+              Of Stature goodly, faire of speech,
+              And of behauiour mylde,
+              Like those there in the Valley rich,
+              That bred him of a chyld.
+              Of Falconry they had the skill,
+              Their Halkes to feed and flye,
+              No better Hunters ere clome Hill,
+              Nor hollowed to a Cry:
+              In Dingles deepe, and Mountains hore,
+              Oft with the bearded Speare                             30
+              They combated the tusky Boare,
+              And slew the angry Beare.
+              In Musicke they were wondrous quaint,
+              Fine Aers they could deuise;
+              They very curiously could Paint,
+              And neatly Poetize;
+              That wagers many time were laid
+              On Questions that arose,
+              Which song the witty _Lalus_ made,
+              Which _Cleon_ should compose.                           40
+              The stately Steed they manag'd well,
+              Of Fence the art they knew,
+              For Dansing they did all excell
+              The Gerles that to them drew;
+              To throw the Sledge, to pitch the Barre,
+              To wrestle and to Run,
+              They all the Youth exceld so farre,
+              That still the Prize they wonne.
+              These sprightly Gallants lou'd a Lasse,
+              Cald _Lirope the bright_,                               50
+              In the whole world there scarcely was
+              So delicate a Wight,
+              There was no Beauty so diuine
+              That euer Nimph did grace,
+              But it beyond it selfe did shine
+              In her more heuenly face:
+              What forme she pleasd each thing would take
+              That ere she did behold,
+              Of Pebbles she could Diamonds make,
+              Grosse Iron turne to Gold:                              60
+              Such power there with her presence came
+              Sterne Tempests she alayd,
+              The cruell Tiger she could tame,
+              She raging Torrents staid,
+              She chid, she cherisht, she gaue life,
+              Againe she made to dye,
+              She raisd a warre, apeasd a Strife,
+              With turning of her eye.
+              Some said a God did her beget,
+              But much deceiu'd were they,                            70
+              Her Father was a _Riuelet_,
+              Her Mother was a _Fay_.
+              Her Lineaments so fine that were,
+              She from the Fayrie tooke,
+              Her Beauties and Complection cleere,
+              By nature from the Brooke.
+              These Ryualls wayting for the houre
+              (The weather calme and faire)
+              When as she vs'd to leaue her Bower
+              To take the pleasant ayre                               80
+              Acosting her; their complement
+              To her their Goddesse done;
+              By gifts they tempt her to consent,
+              When _Lalus_ thus begun.
+
+                _Lalus._ Sweet _Lirope_ I haue a Lambe
+              Newly wayned from the Damme,
+_* Without    Of the right kinde, it is *notted,
+hornes._      Naturally with purple spotted,
+              Into laughter it will put you,
+              To see how prettily 'twill But you;                     90
+              When on sporting it is set,
+              It will beate you a Corvet,
+              And at euery nimble bound
+              Turne it selfe aboue the ground;
+              When tis hungry it will bleate,
+              From your hand to haue its meate,
+              And when it hath fully fed,
+              It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head,
+              As innocently to expresse
+              Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse,                     100
+              When you bid it, it will play,
+              Be it either night or day,
+              This _Lirope_ I haue for thee,
+              So thou alone wilt liue with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ From him O turne thine eare away,
+              And heare me my lou'd _Lirope_,
+              I haue a Kid as white as milke,
+              His skin as soft as _Naples_ silke,
+              His hornes in length are wondrous euen,
+              And curiously by nature writhen;                       110
+              It is of th' Arcadian kinde,
+              Ther's not the like twixt either _Inde_;
+              If you walke, 'twill walke you by,
+              If you sit downe, it downe will lye,
+              It with gesture will you wooe,
+              And counterfeit those things you doe;
+              Ore each Hillock it will vault,
+              And nimbly doe the Summer-sault,
+              Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe,
+              And follow you a furlong so,                           120
+              And if by chance a Tune you roate,
+              'Twill foote it finely to your note,
+              Seeke the worlde and you may misse
+              To finde out such a thing as this;
+              This my loue I haue for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare,
+              And you offer wondrous faire;
+              _Lalus_ for Lambe, _Cleon_ for Kyd,
+              'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid,                130
+              And haue you two such things in store,
+              And I n'er knew of them before?
+              Well yet I dare a Wager lay
+              That _Brag_ my little Dog shall play,
+              As dainty tricks when I shall bid,
+              As _Lalus_ Lambe, or _Cleons_ Kid.
+              But t' may fall out that I may neede them
+              Till when yee may doe well to feed them;
+              Your Goate and Mutton pretty be
+              But Youths these are noe bayts for me,                 140
+              Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe,
+              'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.
+
+                _Lalus._ I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow,
+              Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show;
+              In her Bosome _Venus_ hatcht them
+              Where her little _Cupid_ watcht them,
+              Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke
+              Themselues and to the Fields betooke,
+              Where by chance a Fowler caught them
+              Of whom I full dearely bought them;                    150
+_* The redde  They'll fetch you Conserue from the *Hip,
+fruit of the  And lay it softly on your Lip,
+smooth        Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup
+Bramble._     And fluttering feed you with the Sirup,
+              And if thence you put them by
+              They to your white necke will flye,
+              And if you expulse them there
+              They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre;
+              You so long shall see them prattle
+              Till at length they'll fall to battle,                 160
+              And when they haue fought their fill,
+              You will smile to see them bill
+              These birds my _Lirope's_ shall be
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ His Sparrowes are not worth a rush
+              I'le finde as good in euery bush,
+              Of Doues I haue a dainty paire
+              Which when you please to take the Air,
+              About your head shall gently houer
+              You Cleere browe from the Sunne to couer,              170
+              And with their nimble wings shall fan you,
+              That neither Cold nor Heate shall tan you,
+              And like Vmbrellas with their feathers
+              Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers:
+              They be most dainty Coloured things,
+              They haue Damask backs and Chequerd wings,
+              Their neckes more Various Cullours showe
+              Then there be mixed in the Bowe;
+              _Venus_ saw the lesser Doue
+              And therewith was farre in Loue,                       180
+              Offering for't her goulden Ball
+              For her Sonne to play withall;
+              These my _Liropes_ shall be
+              So shee'll leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Then for Sparrowes, and for Doues
+              I am fitted twixt my Loues,
+              But _Lalus_ I take no delight
+              In Sparowes, for they'll scratch and bite
+              And though ioynd, they are euer wooing
+              Alwayes billing, if not doeing,                        190
+              Twixt _Venus_ breasts if they haue lyen
+              I much feare they'll infect myne;
+              _Cleon_ your Doues are very dainty,
+              Tame Pidgeons else you know are plenty,
+              These may winne some of your Marrowes
+              I am not caught with Doues, nor Sparrowes,
+              I thanke ye kindly for your Coste,
+              Yet your labour is but loste.
+
+                _Lalus._ With full-leau'd Lillies I will stick
+              Thy braded hayre all o'r so thick,                     200
+              That from it a Light shall throw
+              Like the Sunnes vpon the Snow.
+              Thy Mantle shall be Violet Leaues,
+              With the fin'st the Silkeworme weaues
+              As finely wouen; whose rich smell
+              The Ayre about thee so shall swell
+              That it shall haue no power to mooue.
+              A Ruffe of Pinkes thy Robe aboue
+              About thy necke so neatly set
+              That Art it cannot counterfet,                         210
+              Which still shall looke so Fresh and new,
+              As if vpon their Roots they grew:
+              And for thy head Ile haue a Tyer
+              Of netting, made of Strawbery wyer,
+              And in each knot that doth compose
+              A Mesh, shall stick a halfe blowne Rose,
+              Red, damaske, white, in order set
+              About the sides, shall run a Fret
+              Of Primroses, the Tyer throughout
+              With Thrift and Dayses frindgd about;                  220
+              All this faire Nimph Ile doe for thee,
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ These be but weeds and Trash he brings,
+              Ile giue thee solid, costly things,
+              His will wither and be gone
+              Before thou well canst put them on;
+              With Currall I will haue thee Crown'd,
+              Whose Branches intricatly wound
+              Shall girt thy Temples euery way;
+              And on the top of euery Spray                          230
+              Shall stick a Pearle orient and great,
+              Which so the wandring Birds shall cheat,
+              That some shall stoope to looke for Cheries,
+              As other for tralucent Berries.
+              And wondering, caught e'r they be ware
+              In the curld Tramels of thy hayre:
+              And for thy necke a Christall Chaine
+              Whose lincks shapt like to drops of Raine,
+              Vpon thy panting Breast depending,
+              Shall seeme as they were still descending,             240
+              And as thy breath doth come and goe,
+              So seeming still to ebbe and flow:
+              With Amber Bracelets cut like Bees,
+              Whose strange transparency who sees,
+              With Silke small as the Spiders Twist
+              Doubled so oft about thy Wrist,
+              Would surely thinke aliue they were,
+              From Lillies gathering hony there.
+              Thy Buskins Ivory, caru'd like Shels
+              Of Scallope, which as little Bels                      250
+              Made hollow, with the Ayre shall Chime,
+              And to thy steps shall keepe the time:
+              Leaue _Lalus_, _Lirope_ for me
+              And these shall thy rich dowry be.
+
+                _Lirope._ _Lalus_ for Flowers. _Cleon_ for Iemmes,
+              For Garlands and for Diadems,
+              I shall be sped, why this is braue,
+              What Nimph can choicer Presents haue,
+              With dressing, brading, frowncing, flowring,
+              All your Iewels on me powring,                         260
+              In this brauery being drest,
+              To the ground I shall be prest,
+              That I doubt the Nimphes will feare me,
+              Nor will venture to come neare me;
+              Neuer Lady of the May,
+              To this houre was halfe so gay;
+              All in flowers, all so sweet,
+              From the Crowne, beneath the Feet,
+              Amber, Currall, Ivory, Pearle,
+              If this cannot win a Gerle,                            270
+              Ther's nothing can, and this ye wooe me,
+              Giue me your hands and trust ye to me,
+              (Yet to tell ye I am loth)
+              That I'le haue neither of you both;
+
+                _Lalus._ When thou shalt please to stem the flood,
+              (As thou art of the watry brood)
+              I'le haue twelve Swannes more white than Snow,
+              Yokd for the purpose two and two,
+              To drawe thy Barge wrought of fine Reed
+              So well that it nought else shall need,                280
+              The Traces by which they shall hayle
+              Thy Barge; shall be the winding trayle
+              Of woodbynd; whose braue Tasseld Flowers
+              (The Sweetnesse of the Woodnimphs Bowres)
+              Shall be the Trappings to adorne,
+              The Swannes, by which thy Barge is borne,
+              Of flowred Flags I'le rob the banke
+              Of water-Cans and King-cups ranck
+              To be the Couering of thy Boate,
+              And on the Streame as thou do'st Floate,               290
+              The _Naiades_ that haunt the deepe,
+              Themselues about thy Barge shall keepe,
+              Recording most delightfull Layes,
+              By Sea Gods written in thy prayse.
+              And in what place thou hapst to land,
+              There the gentle Siluery sand,
+              Shall soften, curled with the Aier
+              As sensible of thy repayre:
+              This my deare loue I'le doe for thee,
+              So Thou'lt leaue him and goe with me:                  300
+
+                _Cleon._ Tush Nimphe his Swannes will prove but Geese,
+              His Barge drinke water like a Fleece;
+              A Boat is base, I'le thee prouide,
+              A Chariot, wherein _Ioue_ may ride;
+              In which when brauely thou art borne,
+              Thou shalt looke like the gloryous morne
+              Vshering the Sunne, and such a one
+              As to this day was neuer none,
+              Of the Rarest Indian Gummes,
+              More pretious then your Balsamummes                    310
+              Which I by Art haue made so hard,
+              That they with Tooles may well be Caru'd
+              To make a Coach of: which shall be
+              Materyalls of this one for thee,
+              And of thy Chariot each small peece
+              Shall inlayd be with Amber Greece,
+              And guilded with the Yellow ore
+              Produc'd from _Tagus_ wealthy shore;
+              In which along the pleasant Lawne,
+              With twelue white Stags thou shalt be drawne,          320
+              Whose brancht palmes of a stately height,
+              With seuerall nosegayes shall be dight;
+              And as thou ryd'st, thy Coach about,
+              For thy strong guard shall runne a Rout,
+              Of Estriges; whose Curled plumes,
+              Sen'sd with thy Chariots rich perfumes,
+              The scent into the Aier shall throw;
+              Whose naked Thyes shall grace the show;
+              Whilst the Woodnimphs and those bred
+              Vpon the mountayns, o'r thy head                       330
+              Shall beare a Canopy of flowers,
+              Tinseld with drops of Aprill showers,
+              Which shall make more glorious showes
+              Then spangles, or your siluer Oas;
+              This bright nimph I'le doe for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Vie and reuie, like Chapmen profer'd,
+              Would't be receaued what you haue offer'd;
+              Ye greater honour cannot doe me,
+              If not building Altars to me:                          340
+              Both by Water and by Land,
+              Bardge and Chariot at command;
+              Swans vpon the Streame to rawe me,
+              Stags vpon the Land to drawe me,
+              In all this Pompe should I be seene,
+              What a pore thing were a Queene:
+              All delights in such excesse,
+              As but yee, who can expresse:
+              Thus mounted should the Nimphes me see,
+              All the troope would follow me,                        350
+              Thinking by this state that I
+              Would asume a Deitie.
+              There be some in loue haue bin,
+              And I may commit that sinne,
+              And if e'r I be in loue,
+              With one of you I feare twill proue,
+              But with which I cannot tell,
+              So my gallant Youths farewell.
+
+
+The third Nimphall
+
+     DORON. NAIJS. CLORIS. CLAIA.
+     DORILVS. CLOE. MERTILLA.
+     FLORIMEL.
+
+     With Nimphes and Forresters.
+
+        _Poetick Raptures, sacred fires,
+        With which _Apollo_ his inspires,
+        This Nimphall gives you; and withall
+        Obserues the Muses Festivall._
+
+    Amongst th' Elizians many mirthfull Feasts,
+    At which the Muses are the certaine guests,
+    Th' obserue one Day with most Emperiall state,
+    To wise _Apollo_ which they dedicate,
+    The Poets God; and to his Alters bring
+    Th' enamel'd Brauery of the beauteous spring,
+    And strew their Bowers with euery precious sweet,
+    Which still wax fresh, most trod on with their feet;
+    With most choice flowers each Nimph doth brade her hayre,
+    And not the mean'st but bauldrick wise doth weare                 10
+    Some goodly Garland, and the most renown'd
+    With curious Roseat Anadems are crown'd.
+    These being come into the place where they
+    Yearely obserue the Orgies to that day,
+    The Muses from their Heliconian spring
+    Their brimfull Mazers to the feasting bring:
+    When with deepe Draughts out of those plenteous Bowles,
+    The iocond Youth haue swild their thirsty soules,
+    They fall enraged with a sacred heat,
+    And when their braines doe once begin to sweat                    20
+    They into braue and Stately numbers breake,
+    And not a word that any one doth speake
+    But tis Prophetick, and so strangely farre
+    In their high fury they transported are,
+    As there's not one, on any thing can straine,
+    But by another answred is againe
+    In the same Rapture, which all sit to heare;
+    When as two Youths that soundly liquord were,
+    _Dorilus_ and _Doron_, two as noble swayns
+    As euer kept on the Elizian playns,                               30
+    First by their signes attention hauing woonne,
+    Thus they the Reuels frolikly begunne.
+
+        Doron. _Come _Dorilus_, let vs be brave,
+      In lofty numbers let vs raue,
+      With Rymes I will inrich thee._
+
+        Dorilus. _Content say I, then bid the base,
+      Our wits shall runne the Wildgoosechase,
+      Spurre vp, or I will swich thee._
+
+        Doron. _The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,
+      And now the day begins to creepe,                               40
+      Vpon the world at leasure._
+
+        Dorilus. _The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaues,
+      The West winde stroaks the velvit leaues
+      And kisses them at pleasure._
+
+        Doron. _The spinners webs twixt spray and spray,
+      The top of euery bush make gay,
+      By filmy coards there dangling._
+
+        Dorilus. _For now the last dayes euening dew
+      Euen to the full it selfe doth shew,
+      Each bough with Pearle bespangling._                            50
+
+        Doron. _O Boy how thy abundant vaine
+      Euen like a Flood breaks from thy braine,
+      Nor can thy Muse be gaged._
+
+        Dorilus. _Why nature forth did neuer bring
+      A man that like to me can sing,
+      If once I be enraged._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ I in my skill
+      Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,
+      Nay beare back to his springing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And I into a Trance most deepe                      60
+      Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe
+      When fain'st they would be singing._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ thou mak'st me mad,
+      And now my wits begin to gad,
+      But sure I know not whither._
+
+        Dorilus. _O _Doron_ let me hug thee then,
+      There neuer was two madder men,
+      Then let vs on together._
+
+        Doron. Hermes _the winged Horse bestrid,
+      And thorow thick and thin he rid,                               70
+      And floundred throw the Fountaine._
+
+        Dorilus. _He spurd the Tit vntill he bled,
+      So that at last he ran his head
+      Against the forked Mountaine,_
+
+        Doron. _How sayst thou, but pyde _Iris_ got
+      Into great _Iunos_ Chariot,
+      I spake with one that saw her._
+
+        Dorilus. _And there the pert and sawcy Elfe,
+      Behau'd her as twere _Iuno's_ selfe,
+      And made the Peacocks draw her._                                80
+
+        Doron. _Ile borrow _Phœbus_ fiery Iades,
+      With which about the world he trades,
+      And put them in my Plow._
+
+        Dorilus. _O thou most perfect frantique man,
+      Yet let thy rage be what it can,
+      Ile be as mad as thou._
+
+        Doron. _Ile to great _Iove_, hap good, hap ill,
+      Though he with Thunder threat to kill,
+      And beg of him a boone._
+
+        Dorilus. _To swerue vp one of _Cynthias_ beames,              90
+      And there to bath thee in the streames.
+      Discouerd in the Moone._
+
+        Doron. _Come frolick Youth and follow me,
+      My frantique boy, and Ile show thee
+      The Countrey of the Fayries._
+
+        Dorilus. _The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow
+      In noonshade of the Mistletow,
+      And where the Phœnix Aryes._
+
+        Doron. _Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,
+      The Caverns where the Winds are bred,                          100
+      Since thus thou talkst of showing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,
+      That wondrous and eternall spring
+      Whence th' Ocean hath its flowing._
+
+        Doron. _We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,
+      Where snoring _Morpheus_ doth keepe,
+      And wake the drowsy Groome._
+
+        Dorilus. _Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,
+      The Stooles vpon the Floare we'll throw,
+      And roare about the Roome._                                    110
+
+    The Muses here commanded them to stay,
+    Commending much the caridge of their Lay
+    As greatly pleasd at this their madding Bout,
+    To heare how brauely they had borne it out
+    From first to the last, of which they were right glad,
+    By this they found that _Helicon_ still had
+    That vertue it did anciently retaine
+    When _Orpheus Lynus_ and th' Ascrean Swaine
+    Tooke lusty Rowses, which hath made their Rimes,
+    To last so long to all succeeding times.                         120
+    And now amongst this beauteous Beauie here,
+    Two wanton Nimphes, though dainty ones they were,
+    _Naijs_ and _Cloe_ in their female fits
+    Longing to show the sharpnesse of their wits,
+    Of the _nine Sisters_ speciall leaue doe craue
+    That the next Bout they two might freely haue,
+    Who hauing got the suffrages of all,
+    Thus to their Rimeing instantly they fall.
+
+        Naijs. _Amongst you all let us see
+      Who ist opposes mee,                                           130
+      Come on the proudest she
+      To answere my dittye._
+
+        Cloe. _Why _Naijs_, that am I,
+      Who dares thy pride defie.
+      And that we soone shall try
+      Though thou be witty._
+
+        Naijs. Cloe _I scorne my Rime
+      Should obserue feet or time,
+      Now I fall, then I clime,
+      Where i'st I dare not._                                        140
+
+        Cloe. _Giue thy Invention wing,
+      And let her flert and fling,
+      Till downe the Rocks she ding,
+      For that I care not._
+
+        Naijs. _This presence delights me,
+      My freedome inuites me,
+      The Season excytes me,
+      In Rime to be merry._
+
+        Cloe. _And I beyond measure,
+      Am rauisht with pleasure,                                      150
+      To answer each Ceasure,
+      Untill thou beist weary._
+
+        Naijs. _Behold the Rosye Dawne,
+      Rises in Tinsild Lawne,
+      And smiling seemes to fawne,
+      Vpon the mountaines._
+
+        Cloe. _Awaked from her Dreames,
+      Shooting foorth goulden Beames
+      Dansing vpon the Streames
+      Courting the Fountaines._                                      160
+
+        Naijs. _These more then sweet Showrets,
+      Intice vp these Flowrets,
+      To trim vp our Bowrets,
+      Perfuming our Coats._
+
+        Cloe. _Whilst the Birds billing
+      Each one with his Dilling
+      The thickets still filling
+      With Amorous Noets._
+
+        Naijs. _The Bees vp in hony rould,
+      More then their thighes can hould,                             170
+      Lapt in their liquid gould,
+      Their Treasure vs Bringing._
+
+        Cloe. _To these Rillets purling
+      Vpon the stones Curling,
+      And oft about wherling,
+      Dance tow'ard their springing._
+
+        Naijs. _The Wood-Nimphes sit singing,
+      Each Groue with notes ringing
+      Whilst fresh Ver is flinging
+      Her Bounties abroad._                                          180
+
+        Cloe. _So much as the Turtle,
+      Upon the low Mertle,
+      To the meads fertle,
+      Her cares doth unload._
+
+        Naijs. _Nay 'tis a world to see,
+      In euery bush and Tree,
+      The Birds with mirth and glee,
+      Woo'd as they woe._
+
+        Cloe. _The Robin and the Wren,
+      Every Cocke with his Hen,                                      190
+      Why should not we and men,
+      Doe as they doe._
+
+        Naijs. _The Faires are hopping,
+      The small Flowers cropping,
+      And with dew dropping,
+      Skip thorow the Greaues._
+
+        Cloe. _At Barly-breake they play
+      Merrily all the day,
+      At night themselues they lay
+      Vpon the soft leaues._                                         200
+
+        Naijs. _The gentle winds sally,
+      Vpon every Valley,
+      And many times dally
+      And wantonly sport._
+
+        Cloe. _About the fields tracing,
+      Each other in chasing,
+      And often imbracing,
+      In amorous sort._
+
+        Naijs. _And Eccho oft doth tell
+      Wondrous things from her Cell,                                 210
+      As her what chance befell,
+      Learning to prattle._
+
+        Cloe. _And now she sits and mocks
+      The Shepherds and their flocks,
+      And the Heards from the Rocks
+      Keeping their Cattle._
+
+    When to these Maids the Muses silence cry,
+    For 'twas the opinion of the Company,
+    That were not these two taken of, that they
+    Would in their Conflict wholly spend the day.                    220
+    When as the Turne to _Florimel_ next came,
+    A Nimph for Beauty of especiall name,
+    Yet was she not so Iolly as the rest:
+    And though she were by her companions prest,
+    Yet she by no intreaty would be wrought
+    To sing, as by th' Elizian Lawes she ought:
+    When two bright Nimphes that her companions were,
+    And of all other onely held her deare,
+    Mild _Claris_ and _Mertilla_, with faire speech
+    Their most beloued _Florimel_ beseech,                           230
+    T'obserue the Muses, and the more to wooe her,
+    They take their turnes, and thus they sing vnto her.
+
+        Cloris. _Sing, _Florimel_, O sing, and wee
+      Our whole wealth will giue to thee,
+      We'll rob the brim of euery Fountaine,
+      Strip the sweets from euery Mountaine,
+      We will sweepe the curled valleys,
+      Brush the bancks that mound our allyes,
+      We will muster natures dainties
+      When she wallowes in her plentyes,                             240
+      The lushyous smell of euery flower
+      New washt by an Aprill shower,
+      The Mistresse of her store we'll make thee
+      That she for her selfe shall take thee;
+      Can there be a dainty thing,
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._
+
+        Mertilla. _When the dew in May distilleth,
+      And the Earths rich bosome filleth,
+      And with Pearle embrouds each Meadow,
+      We will make them like a widow,                                250
+      And in all their Beauties dresse thee,
+      And of all their spoiles possesse thee,
+      With all the bounties Zephyre brings,
+      Breathing on the yearely springs,
+      The gaudy bloomes of euery Tree
+      In their most beauty when they be,
+      What is here that may delight thee,
+      Or to pleasure may excite thee,
+      Can there be a dainty thing
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._                           260
+
+    But _Florimel_ still sullenly replyes
+    I will not sing at all, let that suffice:
+    When as a Nimph one of the merry ging
+    Seeing she no way could be wonne to sing;
+    Come, come, quoth she, ye vtterly vndoe her
+    With your intreaties, and your reuerence to her;
+    For praise nor prayers, she careth not a pin;
+    They that our froward _Florimel_ would winne,
+    Must worke another way, let me come to her,
+    Either Ile make her sing, or Ile vndoe her.                      270
+
+        Claia. Florimel _I thus coniure thee,
+      Since their gifts cannot alure thee;
+      By stampt Garlick, that doth stink
+      Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,
+      By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet
+      As any Clownes or Carriers feet,
+      By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels
+      Raysing blisters like the measels,
+      By the rough Burbreeding docks,
+      Rancker then the oldest Fox,                                   280
+      By filthy Hemblock, poysning more
+      Then any vlcer or old sore,
+      By the Cockle in the corne,
+      That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,
+      By Hempe in water that hath layne,
+      By whose stench the Fish are slayne,
+      By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,
+      If you haue a minde to cast,
+      May all filthy stinking Weeds
+      That e'r bore leafe, or e'r had seeds,_                        290
+      Florimel _be giuen to thee,
+      If thou'lt not sing as well as wee._
+
+    At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,
+    Amongst the rest the beauteous _Florimel_,
+    (Pleasd with the spell from _Claia_ that came,
+    A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)
+    As gamesome growes as any of them all,
+    And to this ditty instantly doth fall.
+
+        Florimel. _How in my thoughts should I contriue
+      The Image I am framing,                                        300
+      Which is so farre superlatiue,
+      As tis beyond all naming;
+      I would _Ioue_ of my counsell make,
+      And haue his judgement in it,
+      But that I doubt he would mistake
+      How rightly to begin it,
+      It must be builded in the Ayre,
+      And tis my thoughts must doo it,
+      And onely they must be the stayre
+      From earth to mount me to it,                                  310
+      For of my Sex I frame my Lay,
+      Each houre, our selues forsaking,
+      How should I then finde out the way
+      To this my vndertaking,
+      When our weake Fancies working still,
+      Yet changing every minnit,
+      Will shew that it requires some skill,
+      Such difficulty's in it.
+      We would things, yet we know not what,
+      And let our will be granted,                                   320
+      Yet instantly we finde in that
+      Something vnthought of wanted:
+      Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,
+      As with our motions varry,
+      Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,
+      With us they neuer tarry:
+      Some worldly crosse doth still attend,
+      What long we haue in spinning,
+      And e'r we fully get the end
+      We lose of our beginning.                                      330
+      Our pollicies so peevish are,
+      That with themselues they wrangle,
+      And many times become the snare
+      That soonest vs intangle;
+      For that the Loue we beare our Friends
+      Though nere so strongly grounded,
+      Hath in it certaine oblique ends
+      If to the bottome sounded:
+      Our owne well wishing making it,
+      A pardonable Treason;                                          340
+      For that is deriud from witt,
+      And vnderpropt with reason.
+      For our Deare selues beloued sake
+      (Euen in the depth of passion)
+      Our Center though our selues we make,
+      Yet is not that our station;
+      For whilst our Browes ambitious be
+      And youth at hand awayts vs,
+      It is a pretty thing to see
+      How finely Beautie cheats vs,                                  350
+      And whilst with tyme we tryfling stand
+      To practise Antique graces
+      Age with a pale and withered hand
+      Drawes Furowes in our faces._
+
+    When they which so desirous were before
+    To hear her sing; desirous are far more
+    To haue her cease; and call to haue her stayd
+    For she to much alredy had bewray'd.
+    And as the _thrice three Sisters_ thus had grac'd
+    Their Celebration, and themselues had plac'd                     360
+    Vpon a Violet banck, in order all
+    Where they at will might view the Festifall
+    The Nimphs and all the lusty youth that were
+    At this braue Nimphall, by them honored there,
+    To Gratifie the heauenly Gerles againe
+    Lastly prepare in state to entertaine
+    Those sacred Sisters, fairely and confer,
+    On each of them, their prayse particular
+    And thus the Nimphes to the nine Muses sung.
+    When as the Youth and Forresters among                           370
+    That well prepared for this businesse were,
+    Become the _Chorus_, and thus sung they there.
+
+        Nimphes. Clio _then first of those Celestiall nine
+      That daily offer to the sacred shryne,
+      Of wise _Apollo_; Queene of Stories,
+      Thou that vindicat'st the glories
+      Of passed ages, and renewst
+      Their acts which euery day thou viewst,
+      And from a lethargy dost keepe
+      Old nodding time, else prone to sleepe._                       380
+
+        Chorus. Clio _O craue of _Phœbus_ to inspire
+      Vs, for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Melpomine _thou melancholly Maid
+      Next, to wise _Phœbus_ we inuoke thy ayd,
+      In Buskins that dost stride the Stage,
+      And in thy deepe distracted rage,
+      In blood-shed that dost take delight,
+      Thy obiect the most fearfull sight,                            390
+      That louest the sighes, the shreekes, and sounds
+      Of horrors, that arise from wounds._
+
+        Chorus. _Sad Muse, O craue of _Phœbus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Comick _Thalia_ then we come to thee,
+      Thou mirthfull Mayden, onely that in glee
+      And loues deceits, thy pleasure tak'st,
+      Of which thy varying Scene that mak'st                         400
+      And in thy nimble Sock do'st stirre
+      Loude laughter through the Theater,
+      That with the Peasant mak'st the sport,
+      As well as with the better sort._
+
+        Chorus. Thalia _craue of _Phœbus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier;
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life, and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Euterpe _next to thee we will proceed,
+      That first sound'st out the Musick on the Reed,                410
+      With breath and fingers giu'ng life,
+      To the shrill Cornet and the Fyfe.
+      Teaching euery stop and kaye,
+      To those vpon the Pipe that playe,
+      Those which Wind-Instruments we call
+      Or soft, or lowd, or greate, or small,_
+
+        Chorus. Euterpe _aske of _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    420
+
+        Nimphes. Terpsichore _that of the Lute and Lyre,
+      And Instruments that sound with Cords and wyere,
+      That art the Mistres, to commaund
+      The touch of the most Curious hand,
+      When euery Quauer doth Imbrace
+      His like in a true Diapase,
+      And euery string his sound doth fill
+      Toucht with the Finger or the Quill._
+
+        Chorus. Terpsichore, _craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier                        430
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Erato_ wise muse on thee we call,
+      In Lynes to vs that do'st demonstrate all,
+      Which neatly, with thy staffe and Bowe,
+      Do'st measure, and proportion showe;
+      Motion and Gesture that dost teach
+      That euery height and depth canst reach,
+      And do'st demonstrate by thy Art
+      What nature else would not Impart._                            440
+
+        Chorus. _Deare _Erato_ craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _To thee then braue _Caliope_ we come
+      Thou that maintain'st, the Trumpet, and the Drum;
+      The neighing Steed that louest to heare,
+      Clashing of Armes doth please thine eare,
+      In lofty Lines that do'st rehearse
+      Things worthy of a thundring verse,                            450
+      And at no tyme are heard to straine,
+      On ought that suits a Common vayne._
+
+        Chorus. Caliope_, craue _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Polyhymnia_ most delicious Mayd,
+      In Rhetoricks Flowers that art arayd,
+      In Tropes and Figures, richly drest,
+      The Fyled Phrase that louest best,                             460
+      That art all Elocution, and
+      The first that gau'st to vnderstand
+      The force of wordes in order plac'd
+      And with a sweet deliuery grac'd._
+
+        Chorus. _Sweet Muse perswade our _Phœbus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Lofty _Vrania_ then we call to thee,
+      To whom the Heauens for euer opened be,                        470
+      Thou th' Asterismes by name dost call,
+      And shewst when they doe rise and fall
+      Each Planets force, and dost diuine
+      His working, seated in his Signe,
+      And how the starry Frame still roules
+      Betwixt the fixed stedfast Poles._
+
+        Chorus. Vrania _aske of _Phœbus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    480
+
+
+The fourth Nimphall
+
+CLORIS and MERTILLA.
+
+                _Chaste _Cloris_ doth disclose the shames
+                Of the Felician frantique Dames,_
+                Mertilla _striues t' apease her woe,
+                To golden wishes then they goe._
+
+              _Mertilla._ Why how now _Cloris_, what, thy head
+            Bound with forsaken Willow?
+            Is the cold ground become thy bed?
+            The grasse become thy Pillow?
+            O let not those life-lightning eyes
+            In this sad vayle be shrowded,
+            Which into mourning puts the Skyes,
+            To see them ouer-clowded.
+
+              _Cloris._ O my _Mertilla_ doe not praise
+            These Lampes so dimly burning,                            10
+            Such sad and sullen lights as these
+            Were onely made for mourning:
+            Their obiects are the barren Rocks
+            With aged Mosse o'r shaded;
+            Now whilst the Spring layes forth her Locks
+            With blossomes brauely braded.
+
+              _Mertilla._ O _Cloris_, Can there be a Spring,
+            O my deare Nimph, there may not,
+            Wanting thine eyes it forth to bring,
+            Without which Nature cannot:                              20
+            Say what it is that troubleth thee
+            Encreast by thy concealing,
+            Speake; sorrowes many times we see
+            Are lesned by reuealing.
+
+              _Cloris._ Being of late too vainely bent
+            And but at too much leisure;
+            Not with our Groves and Downes content,
+            But surfetting in pleasure;
+            Felicia's Fields I would goe see,
+            Where fame to me reported,                                30
+            The choyce Nimphes of the world to be
+            From meaner beauties sorted;
+            Hoping that I from them might draw
+            Some graces to delight me,
+            But there such monstrous shapes I saw,
+            That to this houre affright me.
+            Throw the thick Hayre, that thatch'd their Browes,
+            Their eyes vpon me stared,
+            Like to those raging frantique Froes
+            For _Bacchus_ Feasts prepared:                            40
+            Their Bodies, although straight by kinde,
+            Yet they so monstrous make them,
+            That for huge Bags blowne vp with wind,
+            You very well may take them.
+            Their Bowels in their Elbowes are,
+            Whereon depend their Panches,
+            And their deformed Armes by farre
+            Made larger than their Hanches:
+            For their behauiour and their grace,
+            Which likewise should haue priz'd them,                   50
+            Their manners were as beastly base
+            As th' rags that so disguisd them;
+            All Anticks, all so impudent,
+            So fashon'd out of fashion,
+            As blacke _Cocytus_ vp had sent
+            Her Fry into this nation,
+            Whose monstrousnesse doth so perplex,
+            Of Reason and depriues me,
+            That for their sakes I loath my sex,
+            Which to this sadnesse driues me.                         60
+
+              _Mertilla._ O my deare _Cloris_ be not sad,
+            Nor with these Furies danted,
+            But let these female fooles be mad,
+            With Hellish pride inchanted;
+            Let not thy noble thoughts descend
+            So low as their affections;
+            Whom neither counsell can amend,
+            Nor yet the Gods corrections:
+            Such mad folks ne'r let vs bemoane,
+            But rather scorne their folly,                            70
+            And since we two are here alone,
+            To banish melancholly,
+            Leaue we this lowly creeping vayne
+            Not worthy admiration,
+            And in a braue and lofty strayne,
+            Lets exercise our passion,
+            With wishes of each others good,
+            From our abundant treasures,
+            And in this iocund sprightly mood:
+            Thus alter we our measures.                               80
+
+      _Mertilla._ O I could wish this place were strewd with Roses,
+    And that this Banck were thickly thrumd with Grasse
+    As soft as Sleaue, or Sarcenet euer was,
+    Whereon my _Cloris_ her sweet selfe reposes.
+
+      _Cloris._ O that these Dewes Rosewater were for thee,
+    These Mists Perfumes that hang vpon these thicks,
+    And that the Winds were all Aromaticks,
+    Which, if my wish could make them, they should bee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that my Bottle one whole Diamond were,
+    So fild with Nectar that a Flye might sup,                        90
+    And at one draught that thou mightst drinke it vp,
+    Yet a Carouse not good enough I feare.
+
+      _Cloris._ That all the Pearle, the Seas, or Indias haue
+    Were well dissolu'd, and thereof made a Lake,
+    Thou there in bathing, and I by to take
+    Pleasure to see thee cleerer than the Waue.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the Hornes of all the Heards we see,
+    Were of fine gold, or else that euery horne
+    Were like to that one of the Vnicorne,
+    And of all these, not one but were thy Fee.                      100
+
+      _Cloris._ O that their Hooues were Iuory, or some thing,
+    Then the pur'st Iuory farre more Christalline,
+    Fild with the food wherewith the Gods doe dine,
+    To keepe thy Youth in a continuall Spring.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the sweets of all the Flowers that grow,
+    The labouring ayre would gather into one,
+    In Gardens, Fields, nor Meadowes leauing none,
+    And all their Sweetnesse vpon thee would throw.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay that those sweet harmonious straines we heare,
+    Amongst the liuely Birds melodious Layes,                        110
+    As they recording sit vpon the Sprayes,
+    Were houering still for Musick at thine eare.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that thy name were caru'd on euery Tree,
+    That as these plants still great, and greater grow,
+    Thy name deare Nimph might be enlarged so,
+    That euery Groue and Coppis might speake thee.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay would thy name vpon their Rynds were set,
+    And by the Nimphes so oft and lowdly spoken,
+    As that the Ecchoes to that language broken
+    Thy happy name might hourely counterfet.                         120
+
+      _Mertilla._ O let the Spring still put sterne winter by,
+    And in rich Damaske let her Reuell still,
+    As it should doe if I might haue my will,
+    That thou mightst still walke on her Tapistry;
+    And thus since Fate no longer time alowes
+    Vnder this broad and shady Sicamore,
+    Where now we sit, as we haue oft before;
+    Those yet vnborne shall offer vp their Vowes.
+
+
+The fift Nimphall
+
+CLAIA, LELIPA, CLARINAX a Hermit.
+
+
+      _Of Garlands, Anadems, and Wreathes,
+      This Nimphall nought but sweetnesse breathes,
+      Presents you with delicious Posies,
+      And with powerfull Simples closes._
+
+      _Claia._ See where old _Clarinax_ is set,
+    His sundry Simples sorting,
+    From whose experience we may get
+    What worthy is reporting.
+    Then _Lelipa_ let vs draw neere,
+    Whilst he his weedes is weathering,
+    I see some powerfull Simples there
+    That he hath late bin gathering.
+    Hail gentle Hermit, _Iove_ thee speed,
+    And haue thee in his keeping,                                     10
+    And euer helpe thee at thy need,
+    Be thou awake or sleeping.
+
+      _Clarinax._ Ye payre of most Celestiall lights,
+    O Beauties three times burnisht,
+    Who could expect such heauenly wights
+    With Angels features furnisht;
+    What God doth guide you to this place,
+    To blesse my homely Bower?
+    It cannot be but this high grace
+    Proceeds from some high power;                                    20
+    The houres like hand-maids still attend,
+    Disposed at your pleasure,
+    Ordayned to noe other end
+    But to awaite your leasure;
+    The Deawes drawne vp into the Aer,
+    And by your breathes perfumed,
+    In little Clouds doe houer there
+    As loath to be consumed:
+    The Aer moues not but as you please,
+    So much sweet Nimphes it owes you,                                30
+    The winds doe cast them to their ease,
+    And amorously inclose you.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Be not too lauish of thy praise,
+    Thou good Elizian Hermit,
+    Lest some to heare such words as these,
+    Perhaps may flattery tearme it;
+    But of your Simples something say,
+    Which may discourse affoord vs,
+    We know your knowledge lyes that way,
+    With subiects you haue stor'd vs.                                 40
+
+      _Claia._ We know for Physick yours you get,
+    Which thus you heere are sorting,
+    And vpon garlands we are set,
+    With Wreathes and Posyes sporting:
+
+      _Lelipa._ The Chaplet and the Anadem,
+    The curled Tresses crowning,
+    We looser Nimphes delight in them,
+    Not in your Wreathes renowning.
+
+      _Clarinax._ The Garland long agoe was worne,
+    As Time pleased to bestow it,                                     50
+    The Lawrell onely to adorne
+    The Conquerer and the Poet.
+    The Palme his due, who vncontrould,
+    On danger looking grauely,
+    When Fate had done the worst it could,
+    Who bore his Fortunes brauely.
+    Most worthy of the Oken Wreath
+    The Ancients him esteemed,
+    Who in a Battle had from death
+    Some man of worth redeemed.                                       60
+    About his temples Grasse they tye,
+    Himselfe that so behaued
+    In some strong Seedge by th' Enemy,
+    A City that hath saued.
+    A Wreath of Vervaine Herhauts weare,
+    Amongst our Garlands named,
+    Being sent that dreadfull newes to beare,
+    Offensiue warre proclaimed.
+    The Signe of Peace who first displayes,
+    The Oliue Wreath possesses:                                       70
+    The Louer with the Myrtle Sprayes
+    Adornes his crisped Tresses.
+    In Loue the sad forsaken wight
+    The Willow Garland weareth:
+    The Funerall man befitting night,
+    The balefull Cipresse beareth.
+    To _Pan_ we dedicate the Pine,
+    Whose Slips the Shepherd graceth:
+    Againe the Ivie and the Vine
+    On his, swolne _Bacchus_ placeth.                                 80
+
+      _Claia._ The Boughes and Sprayes, of which you tell,
+    By you are rightly named,
+    But we with those of pretious smell
+    And colours are enflamed;
+    The noble Ancients to excite
+    Men to doe things worth crowning,
+    Not vnperformed left a Rite,
+    To heighten their renowning:
+    But they that those rewards deuis'd,
+    And those braue wights that wore them                             90
+    By these base times, though poorely priz'd,
+    Yet Hermit we adore them.
+    The store of euery fruitfull Field
+    We Nimphes at will possessing,
+    From that variety they yeeld
+    Get flowers for euery dressing:
+    Of which a Garland Ile compose,
+    Then busily attend me.
+    These flowers I for that purpose chose,
+    But where I misse amend me.                                      100
+
+      _Clarinax._ Well _Claia_ on with your intent,
+    Lets see how you will weaue it,
+    Which done, here for a monument
+    I hope with me, you'll leaue it.
+
+      _Claia._ Here Damaske Roses, white and red,
+    Out of my lap first take I,
+    Which still shall runne along the thred,
+    My chiefest Flower this make I:
+    Amongst these Roses in a row,
+    Next place I Pinks in plenty,                                    110
+    These double Daysyes then for show,
+    And will not this be dainty.
+    The pretty Pansy then Ile tye
+    Like Stones some Chaine inchasing,
+    And next to them their neere Alye,
+    The purple Violet placing.
+    The curious choyce, Clove Iuly-flower,
+    Whose kinds hight the Carnation
+    For sweetnesse of most soueraine power
+    Shall helpe my Wreath to fashion.                                120
+    Whose sundry cullers of one kinde
+    First from one Root derived,
+    Them in their seuerall sutes Ile binde,
+    My Garland so contriued;
+    A course of Cowslips then I'll stick,
+    And here and there though sparely
+    The pleasant Primrose downe Ile prick
+    Like Pearles, which will show rarely:
+    Then with these Marygolds Ile make
+    My Garland somewhat swelling,                                    130
+    These Honysuckles then Ile take,
+    Whose sweets shall helpe their smelling:
+    The Lilly and the Flower delice,
+    For colour much contenting,
+    For that, I them doe only prize,
+    They are but pore in senting:
+    The Daffadill most dainty is
+    To match with these in meetnesse;
+    The Columbyne compar'd to this,
+    All much alike for sweetnesse.                                   140
+    These in their natures onely are
+    Fit to embosse the border,
+    Therefore Ile take especiall care
+    To place them in their order:
+    Sweet-Williams, Campions, Sops-in-Wine
+    One by another neatly:
+    Thus haue I made this Wreath of mine,
+    And finished it featly.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Your Garland thus you finisht haue,
+    Then as we haue attended                                         150
+    Your leasure, likewise let me craue
+    I may the like be friended.
+    Those gaudy garish Flowers you chuse,
+    In which our Nimphes are flaunting,
+    Which they at Feasts and Brydals vse,
+    The sight and smell inchanting:
+    A Chaplet me of Hearbs Ile make
+    Then which though yours be brauer,
+    Yet this of myne I'le vndertake
+    Shall not be short in fauour.                                    160
+    With Basill then I will begin,
+    Whose scent is wondrous pleasing,
+    This Eglantine I'le next put in,
+    The sense with sweetnes seasing.
+    Then in my Lauender I'le lay,
+    Muscado put among it,
+    And here and there a leafe of Bay,
+    Which still shall runne along it.
+    Germander, Marieram, and Tyme
+    Which vsed are for strewing,                                     170
+    With Hisop as an hearbe most pryme
+    Here in my wreath bestowing.
+    Then Balme and Mynt helps to make vp
+    My Chaplet, and for Tryall,
+    Costmary that so likes the Cup,
+    And next it Penieryall
+    Then Burnet shall beare vp with this
+    Whose leafe I greatly fansy,
+    Some Camomile doth not amisse,
+    With Sauory and some Tansy,                                      180
+    Then heere and there I'le put a sprig
+    Of Rosemary into it
+    Thus not too little or too big
+    Tis done if I can doe it.
+
+      _Clarinax._ _Claia_ your Garland is most gaye,
+    Compos'd of curious Flowers,
+    And so most louely _Lelipa_,
+    This Chaplet is of yours,
+    In goodly Gardens yours you get
+    Where you your laps haue laded;                                  190
+    My symples are by Nature set,
+    In Groues and Fields vntraded.
+    Your Flowers most curiously you twyne,
+    Each one his place supplying.
+    But these rough harsher Hearbs of mine,
+    About me rudely lying,
+    Of which some dwarfish Weeds there be,
+    Some of a larger stature,
+    Some by experience as we see,
+    Whose names expresse their nature,                               200
+    Heere is my Moly of much fame,
+    In Magicks often vsed,
+    Mugwort and Night-shade for the same
+    But not by me abused;
+    Here Henbane, Popy, Hemblock here,
+    Procuring Deadly sleeping,
+    Which I doe minister with Feare,
+    Not fit for each mans keeping.
+    Heere holy Veruayne, and heere Dill,
+    Against witchcraft much auailing.                                210
+    Here Horhound gainst the Mad dogs ill
+    By biting, neuer failing.
+    Here Mandrake that procureth loue,
+    In poysning philters mixed,
+    And makes the Barren fruitfull proue,
+    The Root about them fixed.
+    Inchaunting Lunary here lyes
+    In Sorceries excelling,
+    And this is Dictam, which we prize
+    Shot shafts and Darts expelling,                                 220
+    Here Saxifrage against the stone
+    That Powerfull is approued,
+    Here Dodder by whose helpe alone,
+    Ould Agues are remoued
+    Here Mercury, here Helibore,
+    Ould Vlcers mundifying,
+    And Shepheards-Purse the Flux most sore,
+    That helpes by the applying;
+    Here wholsome Plantane, that the payne
+    Of Eyes and Eares appeases;                                      230
+    Here cooling Sorrell that againe
+    We vse in hot diseases:
+    The medcinable Mallow here,
+    Asswaging sudaine Tumors,
+    The iagged Polypodium there,
+    To purge ould rotten humors,
+    Next these here Egremony is,
+    That helpes the Serpents byting,
+    The blessed Betony by this,
+    Whose cures deseruen writing:                                    240
+    This All-heale, and so nam'd of right,
+    New wounds so quickly healing,
+    A thousand more I could recyte,
+    Most worthy of Reuealing,
+    But that I hindred am by Fate,
+    And busnesse doth preuent me,
+    To cure a mad man, which of late
+    Is from Felicia sent me.
+
+      _Claia._ Nay then thou hast inough to doe,
+    We pity thy enduring,                                            250
+    For they are there infected soe,
+    That they are past thy curing.
+
+
+The sixt Nimphall
+
+SILVIVS, HALCIVS, MELANTHVS.
+
+    _A Woodman, Fisher, and a Swaine
+      This Nimphall through with mirth maintaine,
+    Whose pleadings so the Nimphes doe please,
+      That presently they giue them Bayes._
+
+    Cleere had the day bin from the dawne,
+    All chequerd was the Skye,
+    Thin Clouds like Scarfs of Cobweb Lawne
+    Vayld Heauen's most glorious eye.
+    The Winde had no more strength then this,
+    That leasurely it blew,
+    To make one leafe the next to kisse,
+    That closly by it grew.
+    The Rils that on the Pebbles playd,
+    Might now be heard at will;                                       10
+    This world they onely Musick made,
+    Else euerything was still.
+    The Flowers like braue embraudred Gerles,
+    Lookt as they much desired,
+    To see whose head with orient Pearles,
+    Most curiously was tyred;
+    And to it selfe the subtle Ayre,
+    Such souerainty assumes,
+    That it receiu'd too large a share
+    From natures rich perfumes.                                       20
+    When the Elizian Youth were met,
+    That were of most account,
+    And to disport themselues were set
+    Vpon an easy Mount:
+    Neare which, of stately Firre and Pine
+    There grew abundant store,
+    The Tree that weepeth Turpentine,
+    And shady Sicamore.
+    Amongst this merry youthfull trayne
+    A Forrester they had,                                             30
+    A Fisher, and a Shepheards swayne
+    A liuely Countrey Lad:
+    Betwixt which three a question grew,
+    Who should the worthiest be,
+    Which violently they pursue,
+    Nor stickled would they be.
+    That it the Company doth please
+    This ciuill strife to stay,
+    Freely to heare what each of these
+    For his braue selfe could say:                                    40
+    When first this Forrester (of all)
+    That _Silvius_ had to name,
+    To whom the Lot being cast doth fall,
+    Doth thus begin the Game.
+
+      _Silvius._ For my profession then, and for the life I lead,
+    All others to excell, thus for my selfe I plead;
+    I am the Prince of sports, the Forrest is my Fee,
+    He's not vpon the Earth for pleasure liues like me;
+    The Morne no sooner puts her rosye Mantle on,
+    But from my quyet Lodge I instantly am gone,                      50
+    When the melodious Birds from euery Bush and Bryer,
+    Of the wilde spacious Wasts, make a continuall quire;
+    The motlied Meadowes then, new vernisht with the Sunne
+    Shute vp their spicy sweets vpon the winds that runne,
+    In easly ambling Gales, and softly seeme to pace,
+    That it the longer might their lushiousnesse imbrace:
+    I am clad in youthfull Greene, I other colour, scorne,
+    My silken Bauldrick beares my Beugle, or my Horne,
+    Which setting to my Lips, I winde so lowd and shrill,
+    As makes the Ecchoes showte from euery neighbouring Hill:         60
+    My Doghooke at my Belt, to which my Lyam's tyde,
+    My Sheafe of Arrowes by, my Woodknife at my Syde,
+    My Crosse-bow in my Hand, my Gaffle or my Rack
+    To bend it when I please, or it I list to slack,
+    My Hound then in my Lyam, I by the Woodmans art
+    Forecast, where I may lodge the goodly Hie-palm'd Hart,
+    To viewe the grazing Heards, so sundry times I vse,
+    Where by the loftiest Head I know my Deare to chuse,
+    And to vnheard him then, I gallop o'r the ground
+    Vpon my wel-breath'd Nag, to cheere my earning Hound.             70
+    Sometime I pitch my Toyles the Deare aliue to take,
+    Sometime I like the Cry, the deep-mouth'd Kennell make,
+    Then vnderneath my Horse, I staulke my game to strike,
+    And with a single Dog to hunt him hurt, I like.
+    The Siluians are to me true subiects, I their King,
+    The stately Hart, his Hind doth to my presence bring,
+    The Buck his loued Doe, the Roe his tripping Mate,
+    Before me to my Bower, whereas I sit in State.
+    The Dryads, Hamadryads, the Satyres and the Fawnes
+    Oft play at Hyde and Seeke before me on the Lawnes,               80
+    The frisking Fayry oft when horned Cinthia shines
+    Before me as I walke dance wanton Matachynes,
+    The numerous feathered flocks that the wild Forrests haunt
+    Their Siluan songs to me, in cheerefull dittyes chaunte,
+    The Shades like ample Sheelds, defend me from the Sunne,
+    Through which me to refresh the gentle Riuelets runne,
+    No little bubling Brook from any Spring that falls
+    But on the Pebbles playes me pretty Madrigals.
+    I' th' morne I clime the Hills, where wholsome winds do blow,
+    At Noone-tyde to the Vales, and shady Groues below,               90
+    T'wards Euening I againe the Chrystall Floods frequent,
+    In pleasure thus my life continually is spent.
+    As Princes and great Lords haue Pallaces, so I
+    Haue in the Forrests here, my Hall and Gallery
+    The tall and stately Woods, which vnderneath are Plaine,
+    The Groues my Gardens are, the Heath and Downes againe
+    My wide and spacious walkes, then say all what ye can,
+    The Forrester is still your only gallant man.
+
+    He of his speech scarce made an end,
+    But him they load with prayse,                                   100
+    The Nimphes most highly him commend,
+    And vow to giue him Bayes:
+    He's now cryde vp of euery one,
+    And who but onely he,
+    The Forrester's the man alone,
+    The worthyest of the three.
+    When some then th' other farre more stayd,
+    Wil'd them a while to pause,
+    For there was more yet to be sayd,
+    That might deserve applause,                                     110
+    When _Halcius_ his turne next plyes,
+    And silence hauing wonne,
+    Roome for the fisher man he cryes,
+    And thus his Plea begunne.
+
+      _Halcius._ No Forrester, it so must not be borne away,
+    But heare what for himselfe the Fisher first can say,
+    The Chrystall current Streames continually I keepe,
+    Where euery Pearle-pau'd Foard, and euery Blew-eyd deepe
+    With me familiar are; when in my Boate being set,
+    My Oare I take in hand, my Augle and my Net                      120
+    About me; like a Prince my selfe in state I steer,
+    Now vp, now downe the Streame, now am I here, now ther,
+    The Pilot and the Fraught my selfe; and at my ease
+    Can land me where I list, or in what place I please,
+    The Siluer-scaled Sholes, about me in the Streames,
+    As thick as ye discerne the Atoms in the Beames,
+    Neare to the shady Banck where slender Sallowes grow,
+    And Willows their shag'd tops downe t'wards the waters bow
+    I shove in with my Boat to sheeld me from the heat,
+    Where chusing from my Bag, some prou'd especiall bayt,           130
+    The goodly well growne Trout I with my Angle strike,
+    And with my bearded Wyer I take the rauenous Pike,
+    Of whom when I haue hould, he seldome breakes away
+    Though at my Lynes full length, soe long I let him play
+    Till by my hand I finde he well-nere wearyed be,
+    When softly by degrees I drawe him vp to me.
+    The lusty Samon to, I oft with Angling take,
+    Which me aboue the rest most Lordly sport doth make,
+    Who feeling he is caught, such Frisks and bounds doth fetch,
+    And by his very strength my Line soe farre doth stretch,         140
+    As draws my floating Corcke downe to the very ground,
+    And wresting at my Rod, doth make my Boat turne round.
+    I neuer idle am, some tyme I bayt my Weeles,
+    With which by night I take the dainty siluer Eeles,
+    And with my Draughtnet then, I sweepe the streaming Flood,
+    And to my Tramell next, and Cast-net from the Mud,
+    I beate the Scaly brood, noe hower I idely spend,
+    But wearied with my worke I bring the day to end:
+    The Naijdes and Nymphes that in the Riuers keepe,
+    Which take into their care, the store of euery deepe,            150
+    Amongst the Flowery flags, the Bullrushes and Reed,
+    That of the Spawne haue charge (abundantly to breed)
+    Well mounted vpon Swans, their naked bodys lend
+    To my discerning eye, and on my Boate attend,
+    And dance vpon the Waues, before me (for my sake)
+    To th' Musick the soft wynd vpon the Reeds doth make
+    And for my pleasure more, the rougher Gods of Seas
+    From _Neptune's_ Court send in the blew Neriades,
+    Which from his bracky Realme vpon the Billowes ride
+    And beare the Riuers backe with euery streaming Tyde,            160
+    Those Billowes gainst my Boate, borne with delightfull Gales,
+    Oft seeming as I rowe to tell me pretty tales,
+    Whilst Ropes of liquid Pearle still load my laboring Oares,
+    As streacht vpon the Streame they stryke me to the Shores:
+    The silent medowes seeme delighted with my Layes,
+    As sitting in my Boate I sing my Lasses praise,
+    Then let them that like, the Forrester vp cry,
+    Your noble Fisher is your only man say I.
+
+    This speech of _Halcius_ turn'd the Tyde,
+    And brought it so about,                                         170
+    That all vpon the Fisher cryde,
+    That he would beare it out;
+    Him for the speech he made, to clap
+    Who lent him not a hand,
+    And said t'would be the Waters hap,
+    Quite to put downe the Land.
+    This while _Melanthus_ silent sits,
+    (For so the Shepheard hight)
+    And hauing heard these dainty wits,
+    Each pleading for his right;                                     180
+    To heare them honor'd in this wise,
+    His patience doth prouoke,
+    When for a Shepheard roome he cryes,
+    And for himselfe thus spoke.
+
+      _Melanthus._ Well Fisher you haue done, and Forrester for you
+    Your Tale is neatly tould, s'are both's to giue you due,
+    And now my turne comes next, then heare a Shepherd speak:
+    My watchfulnesse and care giues day scarce leaue to break,
+    But to the Fields I haste, my folded flock to see,
+    Where when I finde, nor Woolfe, nor Fox, hath iniur'd me,        190
+    I to my Bottle straight, and soundly baste my Throat,
+    Which done, some Country Song or Roundelay I roate
+    So merrily; that to the musick that I make,
+    I Force the Larke to sing ere she be well awake;
+    Then _Baull_ my cut-tayld Curre and I begin to play,
+    He o'r my Shephooke leapes, now th'one, now th'other way,
+    Then on his hinder feet he doth himselfe aduance,
+    I tune, and to my note, my liuely Dog doth dance,
+    Then whistle in my Fist, my fellow Swaynes to call,
+    Downe goe our Hooks and Scrips, and we to Nine-holes fall,       200
+    At Dust-point, or at Quoyts, else are we at it hard,
+    All false and cheating Games, we Shepheards are debard;
+    Suruaying of my sheepe if Ewe or Wether looke
+    As though it were amisse, or with my Curre, or Crooke
+    I take it, and when once I finde what it doth ayle,
+    It hardly hath that hurt, but that my skill can heale;
+    And when my carefull eye, I cast vpon my sheepe
+    I sort them in my Pens, and sorted soe I keepe:
+    Those that are bigst of Boane, I still reserue for breed,
+    My Cullings I put off, or for the Chapman feed.                  210
+    When the Euening doth approach I to my Bagpipe take,
+    And to my Grazing flocks such Musick then I make,
+    That they forbeare to feed; then me a King you see,
+    I playing goe before, my Subiects followe me,
+    My Bell-weather most braue, before the rest doth stalke,
+    The Father of the flocke, and after him doth walke
+    My writhen-headed Ram, with Posyes crowned in pride
+    Fast to his crooked hornes with Rybands neatly ty'd
+    And at our Shepheards Board that's cut out of the ground,
+    My fellow Swaynes and I together at it round,                    220
+    With Greencheese, clouted Cream, with Flawns, and Custards, stord,
+    Whig, Sider, and with Whey, I domineer a Lord,
+    When shering time is come I to the Riuer driue,
+    My goodly well-fleec'd Flocks: (by pleasure thus I thriue)
+    Which being washt at will; vpon the shering day,
+    My wooll I foorth in Loaks, fit for the wynder lay,
+    Which vpon lusty heapes into my Coate I heaue,
+    That in the Handling feeles as soft as any Sleaue,
+    When euery Ewe two Lambes, that yeaned hath that yeare,
+    About her new shorne neck a Chaplet then doth weare;             230
+    My Tarboxe, and my Scrip, my Bagpipe, at my back,
+    My Sheephooke in my hand, what can I say I lacke;
+    He that a Scepter swayd, a sheephooke in his hand,
+    Hath not disdaind to haue, for Shepheards then I stand;
+    Then Forester and you my Fisher cease your strife
+    I say your Shepheard leads your onely merry life,
+
+    They had not cryd the Forester,
+    And Fisher vp before,
+    So much: but now the Nimphes preferre,
+    The Shephard ten tymes more,                                     240
+    And all the Ging goes on his side,
+    Their Minion him they make,
+    To him themselues they all apply'd,
+    And all his partie take;
+    Till some in their discretion cast,
+    Since first the strife begunne,
+    In all that from them there had past
+    None absolutly wonne;
+    That equall honour they should share;
+    And their deserts to showe,                                      250
+    For each a Garland they prepare,
+    Which they on them bestowe,
+    Of all the choisest flowers that weare,
+    Which purposly they gather,
+    With which they Crowne them, parting there,
+    As they came first together.
+
+
+The seuenth Nimphall
+
+FLORIMEL, LELIPA, NAIJS, CODRVS a
+Feriman.
+
+
+          _The Nimphes, the Queene of loue pursue,
+          Which oft doth hide her from their view:
+          But lastly from th' Elizian Nation,
+          She banisht is by Proclamation_.
+
+      _Florimel._ Deare _Lelipa_, where hast thou bin so long,
+    Was't not enough for thee to doe me wrong;
+    To rob me of thy selfe, but with more spight
+    To take my _Naijs_ from me, my delight?
+    Yee lazie Girles, your heads where haue ye layd,
+    Whil'st _Venus_ here her anticke prankes hath playd?
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay _Florimel_, we should of you enquire,
+    The onely Mayden, whom we all admire
+    For Beauty, Wit, and Chastity, that you
+    Amongst the rest of all our Virgin crue,                          10
+    In quest of her, that you so slacke should be,
+    And leaue the charge to Naijs and to me.
+
+      _Florimel._ Y'are much mistaken _Lelipa_, 'twas I,
+    Of all the Nimphes, that first did her descry,
+    At our great Hunting, when as in the Chase
+    Amongst the rest, me thought I saw one face
+    So exceeding faire, and curious, yet vnknowne
+    That I that face not possibly could owne.
+    And in the course, so Goddesse like a gate,
+    Each step so full of maiesty and state;                           20
+    That with my selfe, I thus resolu'd that she
+    Lesse then a Goddesse (surely) could not be:
+    Thus as _Idalia_, stedfastly I ey'd,
+    A little Nimphe that kept close by her side
+    I noted, as vnknowne as was the other,
+    Which _Cupid_ was disguis'd so by his mother.
+    The little purblinde Rogue, if you had seene,
+    You would haue thought he verily had beene
+    One of _Diana's_ Votaries so clad,
+    He euery thing so like a Huntresse had:                           30
+    And she had put false eyes into his head,
+    That very well he might vs all haue sped.
+    And still they kept together in the Reare,
+    But as the Boy should haue shot at the Deare,
+    He shot amongst the Nimphes, which when I saw,
+    Closer vp to them I began to draw;
+    And fell to hearken, when they naught suspecting,
+    Because I seem'd them vtterly neglecting,
+    I heard her say, my little _Cupid_ too't,
+    Now Boy or neuer, at the Beuie shoot,                             40
+    Haue at them _Venus_ quoth the Boy anon,
+    I'le pierce the proud'st, had she a heart of stone:
+    With that I cryde out, Treason, Treason, when
+    The Nimphes that were before, turning agen
+    To vnderstand the meaning of this cry,
+    They out of sight were vanish't presently.
+    Thus but for me, the Mother and the Sonne,
+    Here in Elizium, had vs all vndone.
+
+      _Naijs._ Beleeue me, gentle Maide, 'twas very well,
+    But now heare me my beauteous _Florimel_,                         50
+    Great _Mars_ his Lemman being cryde out here,
+    She to _Felicia_ goes, still to be neare
+    Th' Elizian Nimphes, for at vs is her ayme,
+    The fond _Felicians_ are her common game.
+    I vpon pleasure idly wandring thither,
+    Something worth laughter from those fooles to gather,
+    Found her, who thus had lately beene surpriz'd,
+    Fearing the like, had her faire selfe disguis'd
+    Like an old Witch, and gaue out to haue skill
+    In telling Fortunes either good or ill;                           60
+    And that more nearly she with them might close,
+    She cut the Cornes, of dainty Ladies Toes:
+    She gaue them Phisicke, either to coole or mooue them,
+    And powders too to make their sweet Hearts loue them:
+    And her sonne _Cupid_, as her Zany went,
+    Carrying her boxes, whom she often sent
+    To know of her faire Patients how they slept.
+    By which meanes she, and the blinde Archer crept
+    Into their fauours, who would often Toy,
+    And tooke delight in sporting with the Boy;                       70
+    Which many times amongst his waggish tricks,
+    These wanton Wenches in the bosome prickes;
+    That they before which had some franticke fits,
+    Were by his Witchcraft quite out of their wits.
+    Watching this Wisard, my minde gaue me still
+    She some Impostor was, and that this skill
+    Was counterfeit, and had some other end.
+    For which discouery, as I did attend,
+    Her wrinckled vizard being very thin,
+    My piercing eye perceiu'd her cleerer skin                        80
+    Through the thicke Riuels perfectly to shine;
+    When I perceiu'd a beauty so diuine,
+    As that so clouded, I began to pry
+    A little nearer, when I chanc't to spye
+    That pretty Mole vpon her Cheeke, which when
+    I saw; suruaying euery part agen,
+    Vpon her left hand, I perceiu'd the skarre
+    Which she receiued in the Troian warre;
+    Which when I found, I could not chuse but smile.
+    She, who againe had noted me the while,                           90
+    And, by my carriage, found I had descry'd her,
+    Slipt out of sight, and presently doth hide her.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay then my dainty Girles, I make no doubt
+    But I my selfe as strangely found her out
+    As either of you both; in Field and Towne,
+    When like a Pedlar she went vp and downe:
+    For she had got a pretty handsome Packe,
+    Which she had fardled neatly at her backe:
+    And opening it, she had the perfect cry,
+    Come my faire Girles, let's see, what will you buy.              100
+    Here be fine night Maskes, plastred well within,
+    To supple wrinckles, and to smooth the skin:
+    Heer's Christall, Corall, Bugle, Iet, in Beads,
+    Cornelian Bracelets for my dainty Maids:
+    Then Periwigs and Searcloth-Gloues doth show,
+    To make their hands as white as Swan or Snow:
+    Then takes she forth a curious gilded boxe,
+    Which was not opened but by double locks;
+    Takes them aside, and doth a Paper spred,
+    In which was painting both for white and red:                    110
+    And next a piece of Silke, wherein there lyes
+    For the decay'd, false Breasts, false Teeth, false Eyes
+    And all the while shee's opening of her Packe,
+    _Cupid_ with's wings bound close downe to his backe:
+    Playing the Tumbler on a Table gets,
+    And shewes the Ladies many pretty feats.
+    I seeing behinde him that he had such things,
+    For well I knew no boy but he had wings,
+    I view'd his Mothers beauty, which to me
+    Lesse then a Goddesse said, she could not be:                    120
+    With that quoth I to her, this other day,
+    As you doe now, so one that came this way,
+    Shew'd me a neate piece, with the needle wrought,
+    How _Mars_ and _Venus_ were together caught
+    By polt-foot _Vulcan_ in an Iron net;
+    It grieu'd me after that I chanc't to let,
+    It to goe from me: whereat waxing red,
+    Into her Hamper she hung downe her head,
+    As she had stoup't some noueltie to seeke,
+    But 'twas indeed to hide her blushing Cheeke:                    130
+    When she her Trinkets trusseth vp anon,
+    E'r we were 'ware, and instantly was gone.
+
+      _Florimel._ But hearke you Nimphes, amongst our idle prate,
+    Tis current newes through the Elizian State,
+    That _Venus_ and her Sonne were lately seene
+    Here in _Elizium_, whence they oft haue beene
+    Banisht by our Edict, and yet still merry,
+    Were here in publique row'd o'r at the Ferry,
+    Where as 'tis said, the Ferryman and she
+    Had much discourse, she was so full of glee,                     140
+    _Codrus_ much wondring at the blind Boyes Bow.
+
+      _Naijs._ And what it was, that easly you may know,
+    _Codrus_ himselfe comes rowing here at hand.
+
+      _Lelipa._ _Codrus_ Come hither, let your Whirry stand,
+    I hope vpon you, ye will take no state
+    Because two Gods haue grac't your Boat of late;
+    Good Ferry-man I pray thee let vs heare
+    What talke ye had, aboard thee whilst they were.
+
+      _Codrus._ Why thus faire Nimphes.
+    As I a Fare had lately past,                                     150
+    And thought that side to ply,
+    I heard one as it were in haste;
+    A Boate, a Boate, to cry,
+    Which as I was aboute to bring,
+    And came to view my Fraught,
+    Thought I; what more then heauenly thing,
+    Hath fortune hither brought.
+    She seeing mine eyes still on her were,
+    Soone, smilingly, quoth she;
+    Sirra, looke to your Roother there,                              160
+    Why lookst thou thus at me?
+    And nimbly stept into my Boat,
+    With her a little Lad
+    Naked and blind, yet did I note,
+    That Bow and Shafts he had,
+    And two Wings to his Shoulders fixt,
+    Which stood like little Sayles,
+    With farre more various colours mixt,
+    Then be your Peacocks Tayles;
+    I seeing this little dapper Elfe,                                170
+    Such Armes as these to beare,
+    Quoth I thus softly to my selfe,
+    What strange thing haue we here,
+    I neuer saw the like thought I:
+    Tis more then strange to me,
+    To haue a child haue wings to fly,
+    And yet want eyes to see;
+    Sure this is some deuised toy,
+    Or it transform'd hath bin,
+    For such a thing, halfe Bird, halfe Boy,                         180
+    I thinke was neuer seene;
+    And in my Boat I turnd about,
+    And wistly viewd the Lad,
+    And cleerely saw his eyes were out,
+    Though Bow and Shafts he had.
+    As wistly she did me behold,
+    How likst thou him, quoth she,
+    Why well, quoth I; and better should,
+    Had he but eyes to see.
+    How sayst thou honest friend, quoth she,                         190
+    Wilt thou a Prentice take,
+    I thinke in time, though blind he be,
+    A Ferry-man hee'll make;
+    To guide my passage Boat quoth I,
+    His fine hands were not made,
+    He hath beene bred too wantonly
+    To vndertake my trade;
+    Why helpe him to a Master then,
+    Quoth she, such Youths be scant,
+    It cannot be but there be men                                    200
+    That such a Boy do want.
+    Quoth I, when you your best haue done,
+    No better way you'll finde,
+    Then to a Harper binde your Sonne,
+    Since most of them are blind.
+    The louely Mother and the Boy,
+    Laught heartily thereat,
+    As at some nimble iest or toy,
+    To heare my homely Chat.
+    Quoth I, I pray you let me know,                                 210
+    Came he thus first to light,
+    Or by some sicknesse, hurt, or blow,
+    Depryued of his sight;
+    Nay sure, quoth she, he thus was borne,
+    Tis strange borne blind, quoth I,
+    I feare you put this as a scorne
+    On my simplicity;
+    Quoth she, thus blind I did him beare,
+    Quoth I, if't be no lye,
+    Then he 's the first blind man Ile sweare,                       220
+    Ere practisd Archery,
+    A man, quoth she, nay there you misse,
+    He 's still a Boy as now,
+    Nor to be elder then he is,
+    The Gods will him alow;
+    To be no elder then he is,
+    Then sure he is some sprite
+    I straight replide, againe at this,
+    The Goddesse laught out right;
+    It is a mystery to me,                                           230
+    An Archer and yet blinde;
+    Quoth I againe, how can it be,
+    That he his marke should finde;
+    The Gods, quoth she, whose will it was
+    That he should want his sight,
+    That he in something should surpasse,
+    To recompence their spight,
+    Gaue him this gift, though at his Game
+    He still shot in the darke,
+    That he should haue so certaine ayme,                            240
+    As not to misse his marke.
+    By this time we were come a shore,
+    When me my Fare she payd,
+    But not a word she vttered more,
+    Nor had I her bewrayd,
+    Of _Venus_ nor of _Cupid_ I
+    Before did neuer heare,
+    But that Fisher comming by
+    Then, told me who they were.
+
+      _Florimel._ Well: against them then proceed                    250
+    As before we haue decreed,
+    That the Goddesse and her Child,
+    Be for euer hence exild,
+    Which _Lelipa_ you shall proclaime
+    In our wise _Apollo's_ name.
+
+      _Lelipa._ To all th' Elizian Nimphish Nation,
+    Thus we make our Proclamation,
+    Against _Venus_ and her Sonne
+    For the mischeefe they haue done,
+    After the next last of May,                                      260
+    The fixt and peremtory day,
+    If she or _Cupid_ shall be found
+    Vpon our Elizian ground,
+    Our Edict, meere Rogues shall make them,
+    And as such, who ere shall take them,
+    Them shall into prison put,
+    _Cupids_ wings shall then be cut,
+    His Bow broken, and his Arrowes
+    Giuen to Boyes to shoot at Sparrowes,
+    And this Vagabund be sent,                                       270
+    Hauing had due punishment
+    To mount _Cytheron_, which first fed him:
+    Where his wanton Mother bred him,
+    And there out of her protection
+    Dayly to receiue correction;
+    Then her Pasport shall be made,
+    And to _Cyprus_ Isle conuayd,
+    And at _Paphos_ in her Shryne,
+    Where she hath been held diuine,
+    For her offences found contrite,                                 280
+    There to liue an Anchorite.
+
+
+The eight Nimphall
+
+MERTILLA, CLAIA, CLORIS.
+
+          _A Nimph is marryed to a Fay,
+          Great preparations for the Day,
+          All Rites of Nuptials they recite you
+          To the Brydall and inuite you._
+
+      _Mertilla._ But will our _Tita_ wed this Fay?
+
+      _Claia._ Yea, and to morrow is the day.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But why should she bestow her selfe
+    Vpon this dwarfish Fayry Elfe?
+
+      _Claia._ Why by her smalnesse you may finde,
+    That she is of the Fayry kinde,
+    And therefore apt to chuse her make
+    Whence she did her begining take:
+    Besides he 's deft and wondrous Ayrye,
+    And of the noblest of the Fayry,                                  10
+    Chiefe of the Crickets of much fame,
+    In Fayry a most ancient name.
+    But to be briefe, 'tis cleerely done,
+    The pretty wench is woo'd and wonne.
+
+      _Cloris._ If this be so, let vs prouide
+    The Ornaments to fit our Bryde.
+    For they knowing she doth come
+    From vs in _Elizium_,
+    Queene _Mab_ will looke she should be drest
+    In those attyres we thinke our best,                              20
+    Therefore some curious things lets giue her,
+    E'r to her Spouse we her deliuer.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Ile haue a Iewell for her eare,
+    (Which for my sake Ile haue her weare)
+    'T shall be a Dewdrop, and therein
+    Of Cupids I will haue a twinne,
+    Which strugling, with their wings shall break
+    The Bubble, out of which shall leak,
+    So sweet a liquor as shall moue
+    Each thing that smels, to be in loue.                             30
+
+      _Claia._ Beleeue me Gerle, this will be fine,
+    And to this Pendant, then take mine;
+    A Cup in fashion of a Fly,
+    Of the Linxes piercing eye,
+    Wherein there sticks a Sunny Ray
+    Shot in through the cleerest day,
+    Whose brightnesse _Venus_ selfe did moue,
+    Therein to put her drinke of Loue,
+    Which for more strength she did distill,
+    The Limbeck was a _Phœnix_ quill,                                 40
+    At this Cups delicious brinke,
+    A Fly approching but to drinke,
+    Like Amber or some precious Gumme
+    It transparant doth become.
+
+      _Cloris._ For Iewels for her eares she's sped,
+    But for a dressing for her head
+    I thinke for her I haue a Tyer,
+    That all Fayryes shall admyre,
+    The yellowes in the full-blowne Rose,
+    Which in the top it doth inclose                                  50
+    Like drops of gold Oare shall be hung;
+    Vpon her Tresses, and among
+    Those scattered seeds (the eye to please)
+    The wings of the Cantharides:
+    With some o' th' Raine-bow that doth raile
+    Those Moons in, in the Peacocks taile:
+    Whose dainty colours being mixt
+    With th' other beauties, and so fixt,
+    Her louely Tresses shall appeare,
+    As though vpon a flame they were.                                 60
+    And to be sure she shall be gay,
+    We'll take those feathers from the Iay;
+    About her eyes in Circlets set,
+    To be our _Tita's_ Coronet.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Then dainty Girles I make no doubt,
+    But we shall neatly send her out:
+    But let's amongst our selues agree,
+    Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.
+
+      _Claia._ Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues,
+    Most curiously laid on in Threaues:                               70
+    And all embroydery to supply,
+    Powthred with flowers of Rosemary:
+    A trayle about the skirt shall runne,
+    The Silkewormes finest, newly spunne;
+    And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew
+    With th' smallest of the Spinners Clue:
+    And hauing done their worke, againe
+    These to the Church shall beare her Traine:
+    Which for our _Tita_ we will make
+    Of the cast slough of a Snake,                                    80
+    Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,
+    The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.
+
+      _Cloris._ And being led to meet her mate,
+    To make sure that she want no state,
+    Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred,
+    With feathers from the Pheasants head:
+    Mix'd with the plume of (so high price,)
+    The precious bird of Paradice.
+    Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply
+    Into a curious Canopy.                                            90
+    Borne o're her head (by our enquiry)
+    By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But all this while we haue forgot
+    Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?
+
+      _Claia._ We had, for those I'le fit her now,
+    They shall be of the Lady-Cow:
+    The dainty shell vpon her backe
+    Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke;
+    Which as she holds a stately pace,
+    Her Leg will wonderfully grace.                                  100
+
+      _Cloris._ But then for musicke of the best,
+    This must be thought on for the Feast.
+
+      _Mertilla._ The Nightingale of birds most choyce,
+    To doe her best shall straine her voyce;
+    And to this bird to make a Set,
+    The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;
+    The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,
+    That make a Quier of euery Bush.
+    But for still musicke, we will keepe
+    The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe                          110
+    Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone
+    The rest into their chambers gone.
+    And like those vpon Ropes that walke
+    On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,
+    The tripping Fayry tricks shall play
+    The euening of the wedding day.
+
+      _Claia._ But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,
+    That hath not beene talk'd of yet.
+
+      _Cloris._ Of leaues of Roses white and red,
+    Shall be the Couering of her bed:                                120
+    The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,
+    Shall be the flower Imperiall,
+    And for the Fringe, it all along
+    With azure Harebels shall be hung:
+    Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,
+    With downe stuft of the Butterflee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,
+    Now for our Prothalamion
+    Or Marriage song of all the rest,
+    A thing that much must grace our feast.                          130
+    Let vs practise then to sing it,
+    Ere we before th' assembly bring it:
+    We in Dialogues must doe it,
+    The my dainty Girles set to it.
+
+      Claia. _This day must _Tita_ marryed be,
+    Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see._
+
+      Mertilla. _But is it certaine that ye say,
+    Will she wed the Noble Faye?_
+
+      Cloris. _Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes,
+    Such as the Gods at Banquets vse:                                140
+    Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses,
+    And make proud the posts with posies:
+    Shute your sweets into the ayre,
+    Charge the morning to be fayre._
+
+      Claia.    } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Mertilla. } To be married to a Faye._
+
+      Claia. _By whom then shall our Bride be led
+    To the Temple to be wed._
+
+      Mertilla. _Onely by your selfe and I,
+    Who that roomth should else supply?_                             150
+
+      Cloris. _Come bright Girles, come altogether,
+    And bring all your offrings hither,
+    Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye,
+    All your goodly graces Leuye,
+    Come in Maiestie and state
+    Our Brydall here to celebrate._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._
+
+      Claia. _Whose lot wilt be the way to strow
+    On which to Church our Bride must goe?_                          160
+
+      Mertilla. _That I think as fit'st of all,
+    To liuely _Lelipa_ will fall._
+
+      Cloris. _Summon all the sweets that are,
+    To this nuptiall to repayre;
+    Till with their throngs themselues they smother,
+    Strongly styfling one another;
+    And at last they all consume,
+    And vanish in one rich perfume._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._                          170
+
+      Mertilla. _By whom must _Tita_ married be,
+    'Tis fit we all to that should see?_
+
+      Claia. _The Priest he purposely doth come,
+    Th' Arch Flamyne of Elizium._
+
+      Cloris. _With Tapers let the Temples shine,
+    Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine:
+    Load the Altars till there rise
+    Clouds from the burnt sacrifice;
+    With your Sensors fling aloofe
+    Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe._                        180
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Mertilla. _But comming backe when she is wed,
+    Who breakes the Cake aboue her head._
+
+      Claia. _That shall _Mertilla_, for shee's tallest,
+    And our _Tita_ is the smallest._
+
+      Cloris. _Violins, strike vp aloud,
+    Ply the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd,
+    Let the nimble hand belabour
+    The whistling Pipe, and drumbling Taber:                         190
+    To the full the Bagpipe racke,
+    Till the swelling leather cracke._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when to dyne she takes her seate
+    What shall be our _Tita's_ meate?_
+
+      Mertilla. _The Gods this Feast, as to begin,
+    Haue sent of their Ambrosia in._
+
+      Cloris. _Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry,
+    The Respas, and Elizian Cherry:                                  200
+    The virgin honey from the flowers
+    In Hibla, wrought in _Flora's_ bowers:
+    Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle
+    Carouse but in dissolued Pearle._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when night comes, and she must goe
+    To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?_
+
+      Mertilla. _In the Posset must be brought,
+    And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught._                      210
+
+      Cloris. _In Maskes, in Dances, and delight,
+    And reare Banquets spend the night:
+    Then about the Roome we ramble,
+    Scatter Nuts, and for them scramble:
+    Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble,
+    Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+
+The ninth Nimphall
+
+MVSES and NIMPHS.
+
+                    _The Muses spend their lofty layes,
+                    Vpon _Apollo_ and his prayse;
+                    The Nimphs with Gems his Alter build,
+                    This Nimphall is with _Phœbus_ fild._
+
+              A Temple of exceeding state,
+              The Nimphes and Muses rearing,
+              Which they to _Phœbus_ dedicate,
+              Elizium euer cheering:
+              These Muses, and those Nimphes contend
+              This Phane to _Phœbus_ offring,
+              Which side the other should transcend,
+              These praise, those prizes proffering,
+              And at this long appointed day,
+              Each one their largesse bringing,                       10
+              Those nine faire Sisters led the way
+              Thus to _Apollo_ singing.
+
+                The Muses. _Thou youthfull God that guid'st the howres,
+              The Muses thus implore thee,
+              By all those Names, due to thy powers,
+              By which we still adore thee._
+              Sol_, _Tytan_, _Delius_, _Cynthius_, styles
+              Much reuerence that have wonne thee,
+              Deriu'd from Mountaines as from Iles
+              Where worship first was done thee.                      20
+              Rich _Delos_ brought thee forth diuine,
+              Thy Mother thither driven,
+              At _Delphos_ thy most sacred shrine,
+              Thy Oracles were giuen.
+              In thy swift course from East to West,
+              They minutes misse to finde thee,
+              That bear'st the morning on thy breast,
+              And leau'st the night behinde thee.
+              Vp to Olimpus top so steepe,
+              Thy startling Coursers currying;                        30
+              Thence downe to Neptunes vasty deepe,
+              Thy flaming Charriot hurrying._
+              Eos_, _Ethon_, _Phlegon_, _Pirois_, proud,
+The horses    Their lightning Maynes aduancing:
+drawing the   Breathing forth fire on euery cloud
+Chariot of    Vpon their Iourney prancing.
+the Sunne.    Whose sparkling hoofes, with gold for speed
+              Are shod, to scape all dangers,
+              Where they upon Ambrosia feed,
+              In their celestiall Mangers.                            40
+The           Bright _Colatina_, that of hils
+mountaines    Is Goddesse, and hath keeping
+first         Her Nimphes, the cleere _Oreades_ wils
+saluting the  T'attend thee from thy sleeping.
+Sunne at his  Great _*Demogorgon_ feeles thy might,
+rising.       His Mynes about him heating:
+* Supposed    Who through his bosome dart'st thy light,
+the God of    Within the Center sweating.
+earth.        If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,
+              Thou _Minos_ mou'st to heare thee:                      50
+One of the    The Rockes feele in themselues a fire,
+Iudges of     And rise vp to come neere thee.
+hell.         'Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise
+              Hearbs by their natures calling:
+              Of which some opening at thy Rise,
+              And closing at thy falling.
+              Fayre _Hyacinth_ thy most lou'd Lad,
+              That with the sledge thou sluest;
+              Hath in a flower the life he had,
+              Whose root thou still renewest,                         60
+              Thy _Daphne_ thy beloued Tree,
+              That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,
+              And thy deare _Clitia_ yet we see,
+A Nimph lou'd Not time from thee can sunder;
+of _Apollo_,  From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew
+and by him    (Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)
+changed into  Which that fell Serpent _Python_ slew,
+a flower.     Renowning thee for euer.
+              The _Actian_ and the _Pythian_ Games
+Playes or     Deuised were to praise thee,                            70
+Games in      With all th' _Apolinary_ names
+honor of      That th' Ancients thought could raise thee.
+_Apollo_.     A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,
+              To thee we'll haue erected,
+              Which thou the God of Poesie
+              Must care to haue protected:
+              With thy loud _Cinthus_ that shall share,
+              With all his shady Bowers,
+              Nor _Licia's Cragus_ shall compare
+              With this, for thee, of ours._                          80
+
+              Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue
+              Thrust in amongst them thronging,
+              Desiring they might haue the due
+              That was to them belonging.
+              Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,
+              Are in his glories graced,
+              But it is we must build the Shryne
+              Wherein they must be placed;
+              Which of those precious Gemmes we'll make
+              That Nature can affoord vs,                             90
+              Which from that plenty we will take,
+              Wherewith we here have stor'd vs:
+              O glorious _Phœbus_ most diuine,
+              Thine Altars then we hallow.
+              And with those stones we build a Shryne
+              To thee our wise _Apollo_.
+
+                The Nimphes. _No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,
+              (Their numbers let vs muster)
+              But hath from thy most powerfull beames
+              The Vertue and the Lustre;                             100
+              The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
+              The first is to be placed,
+              That glory is of Diadems,
+              Them gracing, by them graced:
+              In whom thy power the most is seene,
+              The raging fire refelling:
+              The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
+              For beauty most excelling,
+              Resisting poyson often prou'd
+              By those about that beare it.                          110
+              The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou'd,
+              That doth reuiue the spirit,
+              Whose kinde to large extensure growne
+              The colour so enflamed,
+              Is that admired mighty stone
+              The Carbunckle that's named,
+              Which from it such a flaming light
+              And radiency eiecteth,
+              That in the very dark'st of night
+              The eye to it directeth.                               120
+              The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,
+              Of which who hath the keeping,
+              No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,
+              And much prouoketh sleeping:
+              The Chrisolite, that doth resist
+              Thirst, proued, neuer failing,
+              The purple colored Amatist,
+              'Gainst strength of wine prevailing;
+              The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,
+              Most soueraine ouer passion:                           130
+              The Sardonix approu'd by vs
+              To master Incantation.
+              Then that celestiall colored stone
+              The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,
+              Which worne, there wearinesse is none,
+              And cureth melancholly:
+              The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew
+              With golden vaines is graced;
+              The Iaspis, of so various hew,
+              Amongst our other placed;                              140
+              The Onix from the Ancients brought,
+              Of wondrous Estimation,
+              Shall in amongst the rest be wrought
+              Our sacred Shryne to fashion;
+              The Topas, we'll stick here and there,
+              And sea-greene colored Berill,
+              And Turkesse, which who haps to beare
+              Is often kept from perill,
+              To Selenite, of _Cynthia's_ light,
+              So nam'd, with her still ranging,                      150
+              Which as she wanes or waxeth bright
+              Its colours so are changing.
+              With Opalls, more then any one,
+              We'll deck thine Altar fuller,
+              For that of euery precious stone,
+              It doth retaine some colour;
+              With bunches of Pearle Paragon
+              Thine Altars vnderpropping,
+              Whose base is the Cornelian,
+              Strong bleeding often stopping:                        160
+              With th' Agot, very oft that is
+              Cut strangely in the Quarry,
+              As Nature ment to show in this,
+              How she her selfe can varry:
+              With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas
+              Elizium well might store vs:
+              But we content our selues with these
+              That readiest lye before vs:
+              And thus O _Phœbus_ most diuine
+              Thine Altars still we hallow,                          170
+              And to thy Godhead reare this Shryne
+              Our onely wise _Apollo_._
+
+
+The tenth Nimphall
+
+NAIIS, CLAIA, CORBILVS, SATYRE.
+
+            _A Satyre on Elizium lights,
+            Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,
+            Yet when they heare his iust complaint,
+            They make him an Elizian Saint._
+
+                    _Corbilus._
+
+    What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know
+    What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?
+    What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?
+    What might it be from which ye flye so fast?
+    I see your faces full of pallid feare,
+    As though some perill followed on your flight;
+    Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare
+    Into what danger ye haue lately light.
+
+      _Naijs._ Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,
+    As when kinde, loued _Corbilus_ we saw,                           10
+    When our much haste vs so much weakned had,
+    That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,
+    In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,
+    So fell a monster lying there we found,
+    As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,
+    Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.
+    Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem'd to vs in show,
+    His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,
+    But he's a very perfect Goat below,
+    His crooked Cambrils arm'd with hoofe and hayre.                  20
+
+      _Claia._ Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
+    Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
+    And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,
+    Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
+    Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
+    Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
+    Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.
+
+      _Claia._ How _Corbilus_; a Satyre doe you say?
+    How should he ouer high _Parnassus_ hit?                          30
+    Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,
+    But onely those the Muses will permit.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
+    The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
+    Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
+    By beastly mens abhominable way;
+    Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
+    By this base time, or be so much distrest,
+    That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
+    To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest.                  40
+
+      _Naijs._ Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
+    At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
+    Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
+    As at the first, when I and _Claia_ saw him.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
+    Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
+    His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
+    How, and from whence, he to _Elizium_ came.
+    Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?
+    What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store?                50
+    When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde
+    Set foot on the Elizian earth before?
+
+      _Satyre._ O neuer aske, how I came to this place,
+    What cannot strong necessity finde out?
+    Rather bemoane my miserable case,
+    Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:
+    With wild _Silvanus_ and his woody crue,
+    In Forrests I, at liberty and free,
+    Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,
+    Nor any rightly can conceiue but we.                              60
+    This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,
+    Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,
+    That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.
+    Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,
+    That faire _Felicia_ which was but of late,
+    Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,
+    Stands now in that most lamentable state,
+    That not a Siluan will inhabit there;
+    Where in the soft and most delicious shade,
+    In heat of Summer we were wont to play,                           70
+    When the long day too short for vs we made,
+    The slyding houres so slyly stole away;
+    By _Cynthia's_ light, and on the pleasant Lawne,
+    The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,
+    Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,
+    Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.
+    The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke
+    The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,
+    Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,
+    Till at the last, they lowder were then they.                     80
+    The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,
+    Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;
+    Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,
+    The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;
+    Once faire _Felicia_, but now quite defac'd,
+    Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,
+    With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd
+    With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:
+    But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,
+    In humane Reason it could neuer be,                               90
+    But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,
+    Those plagues their next posterity shall see.
+    The little Infant on the mothers Lap
+    For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,
+    That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,
+    The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;
+    The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,
+    And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,
+    Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,
+    The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast.                 100
+    Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,
+    And not a Forrest in _Felicia_ found,
+    Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,
+    To dig them caues for houses in the ground:
+    The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,
+    Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,
+    Begging from thence that _Iove_ would dart his fire
+    Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;
+    This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide
+    The name of their braue Ancestors to heare,                      110
+    By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,
+    So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,
+    Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,
+    Of those braue Muses that their Country song,
+    But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue
+    The right and honour that to them belong;
+    This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure
+    That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;
+    The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre
+    Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred.                     120
+    I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come
+    Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:
+    And thus am light into Elizium,
+    To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.
+
+      _Naijs._ Poore silly creature, come along with vs,
+    Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:
+    Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,
+    This place content in all abundance yeelds.
+    We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,
+    Of _Ioues_ deare Daughters, where in shades they sit,            130
+    Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,
+    Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:
+
+      _Claia._ Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres
+    His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:
+    Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers
+    With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,
+    Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:
+    Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,
+    And some like beasts in markets sold and bought.                 140
+    Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,
+    That haue no vnderstanding of their state:
+    For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,
+    That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.
+    And to Elizium be thou welcome then,
+    Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,
+    By that vile nation captiued againe,
+    That many a glorious age their captiues were.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND'
+
+[From the Edition of 1593]
+
+
+    The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle,
+    Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle.
+
+    Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide,
+    Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride.
+
+    Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence,
+    Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence.
+
+    Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure,
+    Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure.
+
+    Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward,
+    Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde.                     10
+
+    Yea she alone, next that eternall he,
+    The expresse Image of eternitie.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue)
+    The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse,
+    If this be wrought me my light to bereaue,
+    By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips
+    Or vgly _Saturne_ from his combust sent,
+    This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.
+
+    Oh cleerest day-starre, honored of mine eyes,
+    Yet sdaynst mine eyes should gaze vpon thy light,
+    Bright morning sunne, who with thy sweet arise,
+    Expell'st the clouds of my harts lowring night,                   10
+    Goddes reiecting sweetest sacrifice,
+    Of mine eyes teares ay offered to thine eyes.
+
+    May purest heauens scorne my soules pure desires?
+    Or holy shrines hate Pilgrims orizons?
+    May sacred temples gaynsay sacred prayers?
+    Or Saints refuse the poores deuotions?
+    Then Orphane thoughts with sorrow be you waind,
+    When loues Religion shalbe thus prophayn'd.
+
+    Yet needes the earth must droope with visage sad,
+    When siluer dewes been turn'd to bitter stormes,                  20
+    The Cheerful _Welkin_, once in sables clad,
+    Her frownes foretell poore humaine creatures harmes.
+    And yet for all to make amends for this,
+    The clouds sheed teares, and weepen at my misse.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iij_
+
+    O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,
+    _Beta_ alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,
+            The Queene of Virgins onely she:
+            And thou the Queene of floods shalt be:
+    Let all thy Nymphes be ioyfull then to see this happy day,
+    Thy _Beta_ now alone shalbe the subiect of my laye.
+
+    With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest virelayes:
+    Come louely shepheards sit we down and chant our _Betas_ prayse:
+            And let vs sing so rare a verse,
+            Our _Betas_ prayses to rehearse,                          10
+    That little Birds shall silent be, to heare poore shepheards sing,
+    And riuers backward bend their course, and flow vnto the spring.
+
+    Range all thy swannes faire Thames together on a rancke,
+    And place them duely one by one, vpon thy stately banck,
+            Then set together all agood,
+            Recording to the siluer flood,
+    And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe you with her lay,
+    The Osel and the Throstlecocke, chiefe musicke of our maye.
+
+    O! see what troups of Nimphs been sporting on the strands,
+    And they been blessed Nimphs of peace, with Oliues in their hands.  20
+            How meryly the Muses sing,
+            That all the flowry Medowes ring,
+    And _Beta_ sits vpon the banck, in purple and in pall,
+    And she the Queene of Muses is, and weares the Corinall.
+
+    Trim vp her Golden tresses with _Apollos_ sacred tree,
+    O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honor thee,
+            The Blessed Angels haue prepar'd,
+            A glorious Crowne for thy reward,
+    Not such a golden Crowne as haughty _Cæsar_ weares,
+    But such a glittering starry Crowne as _Ariadne_ beares.          30
+
+    Make her a goodly Chapilet of azur'd Colombine,
+    And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglentine:
+            Bedeck our _Beta_ all with Lillies,
+            And the dayntie Daffadillies,
+    With Roses damask, white, and red, and fairest flower delice,
+    With Cowslips of Jerusalem, and cloues of Paradice.
+
+    O thou fayre torch of heauen, the days most dearest light,
+    And thou bright shyning _Cinthya_, the glory of the night:
+            You starres the eyes of heauen,
+            And thou the glyding leuen,                               40
+    And thou O gorgeous _Iris_ with all strange Colours dyd,
+    When she streams foorth her rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
+
+    See how the day stands still, admiring of her face,
+    And time loe stretcheth foorth her armes, thy _Beta_ to imbrace,
+            The Syrens sing sweete layes,
+            The Trytons sound her prayse,
+    Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean sea,
+    And let thy billowes there proclaime thy _Betas_ holy-day.
+
+    And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree,
+    With whose sweete shadow, al thy bancks with peace preserued be,  50
+            Lawrell for Poets and Conquerours,
+            And mirtle for Loues Paramours:
+    That fame may be thy fruit, the boughes preseru'd by peace,
+    And let the mournful Cipres die, now stormes and tempest cease.
+
+    Wee'l straw the shore with pearle where _Beta_ walks alone,
+    And we wil paue her princely Bower with richest Indian stone,
+            Perfume the ayre and make it sweete,
+            For such a Goddesse it is meete,
+    For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light,
+    No maruaile then although they so doe dazell humaine sight.       60
+
+    Sound out your trumpets then, from _London's_ stately towres,
+    To beate the stormie windes a back and calme the raging showres,
+            Set too the Cornet and the flute,
+            The Orpharyon and the Lute,
+    And tune the Taber and the Pipe, to the sweet violons,
+    And moue the thunder in the ayre, with lowdest Clarions.
+
+    _Beta_ long may thine Altars smoke, with yeerely sacrifice,
+    And long thy sacred Temples may their Saboths solemnize,
+            Thy shepheards watch by day and night,
+            Thy Mayds attend the holy light,                          70
+    And thy large empyre stretch her armes from east vnto the west,
+    And thou vnder thy feet mayst tread, that foule seuen-headed beast.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iv_
+
+    _Melpomine_ put on thy mourning Gaberdine,
+    And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,
+    And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,
+            with weeping verse,
+            attend his hearse,
+    Whose blessed soule the heauens doe now enshrine.
+
+    Come Nymphs and with your Rebecks ring his knell,
+    Warble forth your wamenting harmony,
+    And at his drery fatall obsequie,
+            with Cypres bowes,                                        10
+            maske your fayre Browes,
+    And beat your breasts to chyme his burying peale.
+
+    Thy birth-day was to all our ioye, the euen,
+    And on thy death this dolefull song we sing,
+    Sweet Child of _Pan_, and the _Castalian_ spring,
+            vnto our endless mone,
+            from vs why art thou gone,
+    To fill vp that sweete Angels quier in heauen.
+
+    O whylome thou thy lasses dearest loue,
+    When with greene Lawrell she hath crowned thee,                   20
+    Immortal mirror of all Poesie:
+            the Muses treasure,
+            the Graces pleasure,
+    Reigning with Angels now in heauen aboue.
+
+    Our mirth is now depriu'd of all her glory,
+    Our Taburins in dolefull dumps are drownd.
+    Our viols want their sweet and pleasing sound,
+            our melodie is mar'd
+            and we of ioyes debard,
+    O wicked world so mutable and transitory.                         30
+
+    O dismall day, bereauer of delight,
+    O stormy winter, sourse of all our sorrow,
+    O most vntimely and eclipsed morrow,
+            to rob us quite,
+            of all delight,
+    Darkening that starre which euer shone so bright.
+
+    Oh _Elphin_, _Elphin_, Though thou hence be gone,
+    In spight of death yet shalt thou liue for aye,
+    Thy Poesie is garlanded with Baye:
+            and still shalt blaze                                     40
+            thy lasting prayse:
+    Whose losse poore shepherds euer shall bemone.
+
+    Come Girles, and with Carnations decke his graue,
+    With damaske Roses and the hyacynt:
+    Come with sweete Williams, Marioram and Mynt,
+            with precious Balmes,
+            with hymnes and psalmes,
+    This funerall deserues no lesse at all to haue.
+
+    But see where _Elphin_ sits in fayre Elizia,
+    Feeding his flocke on yonder heauenly playne,                     50
+    Come and behold, you louely shepheards swayne,
+            piping his fill
+            on yonder hill,
+    Tasting sweete _Nectar_, and _Ambrosia_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+              _Borrill._
+
+    Oh spightfull wayward wretched loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauens and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    Thoughts griefe, hearts woe,
+    Hopes paine, bodies languish,
+    Enuies rage, sleepes foe,
+    Fancies fraud, soules anguish,
+    Desires dread, mindes madnes,
+    Secrets bewrayer, natures error,                                  10
+    Sights deceit, sullens sadnes,
+    Speeches expence, Cupids terror,
+    Malcontents melancholly,
+    Liues slaughter, deaths nurse,
+    Cares slaue, dotard's folly,
+    Fortunes bayte, world's curse,
+    Lookes theft, eyes blindnes,
+    Selfes will, tongues treason,
+    Paynes pleasure, wrongs kindnes,
+    Furies frensie, follies reason:                                   20
+    With cursing thee as I began,
+    Neither God, neither man,
+    Neither Fayrie, neither Feend.
+
+              _Batte._
+
+    Loue is the heauens fayre aspect,
+      loue is the glorie of the earth,
+    Loue only doth our liues direct,
+      loue is our guyder from our birth,
+
+    Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie,
+      loue taught mine eyes the way to loue,
+    Loue raysed my conceit so hie,                                    30
+      loue framd my hand his arte to proue.
+
+    Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill,
+      loue gaue me first to Poesie:
+    Loue is the Soueraigne of my will,
+      loue bound me first to loyalty.
+
+    Loue was the first that fram'd my speech,
+      loue was the first that gaue me grace:
+    Loue is my life and fortunes leech,
+      loue made the vertuous giue me place.
+
+    Loue is the end of my desire,                                     40
+      loue is the loadstarre of my loue,
+    Loue makes my selfe, my selfe admire,
+      loue seated my delights aboue.
+
+    Loue placed honor in my brest,
+      loue made me learnings fauoret,
+    Loue made me liked of the best,
+      loue first my minde on virtue set.
+
+    Loue is my life, life is my loue,
+      loue is my whole felicity,
+    Loue is my sweete, sweete is my loue,                             50
+      I am in loue, and loue in mee.
+
+
+_From Eclogue viij_
+
+    Farre in the countrey of _Arden_
+    There wond a knight hight _Cassemen_,
+      as bolde as _Isenbras_:
+    Fell was he and eger bent,
+    In battell and in Tournament,
+      as was the good sir _Topas_.
+    He had as antique stories tell,
+    A daughter cleaped _Dowsabell_,
+      a mayden fayre and free:
+    And for she was her fathers heire,                                10
+    Full well she was ycond the leyre,
+      of mickle curtesie.
+    The silke wel couth she twist and twine,
+    And make the fine Marchpine,
+      and with the needle werke,
+    And she couth helpe the priest to say
+    His Mattens on a holyday,
+      and sing a Psalme in Kirke.
+    She ware a frocke of frolicke greene,
+    Might well beseeme a mayden Queene,                               20
+      which seemly was to see.
+    A hood to that so neat and fine,
+    In colour like the colombine,
+      ywrought full featously.
+    Her feature all as fresh aboue,
+    As is the grasse that grows by Doue,
+      as lyth as lasse of Kent:
+    Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll,
+    As white as snow on peakish hull,
+      or Swanne that swims in Trent.                                  30
+    This mayden in a morne betime,
+    Went forth when May was in her prime,
+      to get sweet Cetywall,
+    The hony-suckle, the Harlocke,
+    The Lilly and the Lady-smocke,
+      to decke her summer hall.
+    Thus as she wandred here and there,
+    Ypicking of the bloomed Breere,
+      she chanced to espie
+    A shepheard sitting on a bancke,                                  40
+    Like _Chanteclere_ he crowed crancke,
+      and pip'd with merrie glee:
+    He leard his sheepe as he him list,
+    When he would whistle in his fist,
+      to feede about him round:
+    Whilst he full many a caroll sung,
+    Vntill the fields and medowes rung,
+      and that the woods did sound:
+    In fauour this same shepheards swayne,
+    Was like the bedlam _Tamburlayne_,                                50
+      which helde prowd Kings in awe:
+    But meeke he was as Lamb mought be,
+    Ylike that gentle _Abel_ he,
+      whom his lewd brother slaw.
+    This shepheard ware a sheepe gray cloke,
+    Which was of the finest loke,
+      that could be cut with sheere,
+    His mittens were of Bauzens skinne,
+    His cockers were of Cordiwin
+      his hood of Meniueere.                                          60
+    His aule and lingell in a thong,
+    His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong,
+      his breech of Coyntrie blew:
+    Full crispe and curled were his lockes,
+    His browes as white as _Albion_ rockes,
+      so like a louer true.
+    And pyping still he spent the day,
+    So mery as the Popingay:
+      which liked _Dowsabell_,
+    That would she ought or would she nought,                         70
+    This lad would neuer from her thought:
+      she in loue-longing fell,
+    At length she tucked vp her frocke,
+    White as the Lilly was her smocke,
+      she drew the shepheard nie,
+    But then the shepheard pyp'd a good,
+    That all his sheepe forsooke their foode,
+      to heare his melodie.
+    Thy sheepe quoth she cannot be leane,
+    That haue a iolly shepheards swayne,                              80
+      the which can pipe so well.
+    Yea but (sayth he) their shepheard may,
+    Jf pyping thus he pine away,
+      in loue of _Dowsabell_.
+    Of loue fond boy take thou no keepe,
+    Quoth she, looke well vnto thy sheepe,
+      lest they should hap to stray.
+    Quoth he, so had I done full well,
+    Had I not seene fayre _Dowsabell_,
+      come forth to gather Maye.                                      90
+    With that she gan to vaile her head,
+    Her cheekes were like the Roses red,
+      but not a word she sayd.
+    With that the shepheard gan to frowne,
+    He threw his pretie pypes adowne,
+      and on the ground him layd.
+    Sayth she, I may not stay till night,
+    And leaue my summer hall vndight,
+      and all for long of thee.
+    My Coate sayth he, nor yet my foulde,                            100
+    Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould,
+      except thou fauour me.
+    Sayth she yet leuer I were dead,
+    Then I should lose my maydenhead,
+      and all for loue of men:
+    Sayth he yet are you too vnkind,
+    If in your heart you cannot finde,
+      to loue vs now and then:
+    And J to thee will be as kinde,
+    As _Colin_ was to _Rosalinde_,                                   110
+      of curtesie the flower;
+    Then will I be as true quoth she,
+    As euer mayden yet might be,
+      vnto her Paramour:
+    With that she bent her snowe-white knee,
+    Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,
+      and him she sweetely kist.
+    With that the shepheard whoop'd for ioy,
+    Quoth he, ther's neuer shepheards boy,
+      that euer was so blist.                                        120
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1605]
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Then this great Vniuerse no lesse,
+    Can serue her prayses to expresse:
+    Betwixt her eies the poles of Loue,
+    The host of heauenly beautyes moue,
+    Depainted in their proper stories,
+    As well the fixd as wandring glories,
+    Which from their proper orbes not goe,
+    Whether they gyre swift or slowe:
+    Where from their lips, when she doth speake,
+    The musick of those sphears do breake,                            10
+    Which their harmonious motion breedeth:
+    From whose cheerfull breath proceedeth:
+    That balmy sweetnes that giues birth
+    To euery ofspring of the earth.
+    Her shape and cariage of which frame
+    In forme how well shee beares the same,
+    Is that proportion heauens best treasure,
+    Whereby it doth all poyze and measure,
+    So that alone her happy sight
+    Conteynes perfection and delight.                                 20
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Vppon a bank with roses set about,
+    Where pretty turtles ioyning bil to bill,
+    And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out
+    Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill:
+    There little loue sore wounded lyes,
+    His bowe and arowes broken,
+    Bedewd with teares from Venus eyes
+    Oh greeuous to be spoken.
+
+    Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye
+    Where sticks the arrowe that poore hart did kill,                 10
+    With whose sharp pile request him ere he die,
+    About the same to write his latest will,
+    And bid him send it backe to mee,
+    At instant of his dying,
+    That cruell cruell shee may see
+    My faith and her denying.
+
+    His chappell be a mournefull Cypresse Shade,
+    And for a chauntry Philomels sweet lay,
+    Where prayers shall continually be made
+    By pilgrim louers passing by that way.                            20
+    With Nymphes and shepheards yearly moane
+    His timeles death beweeping,
+    In telling that my hart alone
+    Hath his last will in keeping.
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1606]
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+    Now fye vpon thee wayward loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauen and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    What art thou but th' extreamst madnesse,
+    Natures first and only error
+    That consum'st our daies in sadnesse,
+    By the minds Continuall terror:
+    Walking in Cymerian blindnesse,
+    In thy courses voy'd of reason.                                   10
+    Sharp reproofe thy only kindnesse,
+    In thy trust the highest treason?
+    Both the Nymph and ruder swaine,
+    Vexing with continuall anguish,
+    Which dost make the ould complaine
+    And the young to pyne and languishe,
+    Who thee keepes his care doth nurse,
+    That seducest all to folly,
+    Blessing, bitterly doest curse,
+    Tending to destruction wholly:                                    20
+    Thus of thee as I began,
+    So againe I make an end,
+    Neither god neither man,
+    Neither faiery, neither feend.
+
+              BATTE.
+
+    What is Loue but the desire
+    Of the thing that fancy pleaseth?
+    A holy and resistlesse fier,
+    Weake and strong alike that ceaseth,
+    Which not heauen hath power to let,
+    Nor wise nature cannot smother,                                   30
+    Whereby _Phoebus_ doth begette
+    On the vniuersall mother.
+    That the euerlasting Chaine,
+    Which together al things tied,
+    And vnmooued them retayne
+    And by which they shall abide:
+    That concent we cleerely find,
+    All things doth together drawe,
+    And so strong in euery kinde,
+    Subiects them to natures law.                                     40
+    Whose hie virtue number teaches
+    In which euery thing dooth mooue,
+    From the lowest depth that reaches
+    To the height of heauen aboue:
+    Harmony that wisely found,
+    When the cunning hand doth strike
+    Whereas euery amorous sound,
+    Sweetly marryes with his like.
+    The tender cattell scarcely take
+    From their damm's the feelds to proue,                            50
+    But ech seeketh out a make,
+    Nothing liues that doth not loue:
+    Not soe much as but the plant
+    As nature euery thing doth payre,
+    By it if the male it want
+    Doth dislike and will not beare:
+    Nothing then is like to loue
+    In the which all creatures be.
+    From it nere let me remooue
+    Nor let it remooue from me.                                       60
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+                        BATTE.
+
+              _Gorbo_, as thou cam'st this waye
+              By yonder little hill,
+              Or as thou through the fields didst straye
+              Sawst thou my _Daffadill_?
+
+              Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene
+              The colour maides delight
+              And neuer hath her beauty seen
+              But through a vale of white.
+
+              Then Roses richer to behold
+              That trim vp louers bowers,                             10
+              The Pansy and the Marigould
+              Tho _Phœbus_ Paramours.
+
+    _Gorbo._  Thou well describ'st the Daffadill
+              It is not full an hower
+              Since by the spring neare yonder hill
+              I saw that louely flower.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
+              Nor news of her didst bring,
+              And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
+              Then that by yonder spring.                             20
+
+    _Gorbo._  I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
+              In yonder field of Lillies,
+              Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
+              A wreathe of Daffadillies.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
+              My flower thou didst not see,
+              For know my pretie _Daffadill_
+              Is worne of none but me.
+
+              To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
+              No Lilly is so bould,                                   30
+              Except to shade her from the heate,
+              Or keepe her from the colde:
+
+    _Gorbo._  Through yonder vale as I did passe,
+              Descending from the hill,
+              I met a smerking bony lasse,
+              They call her _Daffadill_:
+
+              Whose presence as along she went,
+              The prety flowers did greet,
+              As though their heads they downward bent,
+              With homage to her feete.                               40
+
+              And all the shepheards that were nie,
+              From toppe of euery hill,
+              Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
+              There goes sweet _Daffadill_.
+
+    _Gorbo._  I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
+              Thou all my flockes dost fill,
+              That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
+              Let vs to _Daffadill_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Motto._  Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
+              Who's yonder in the vally set?
+    _Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
+              The Lilly, Rose, or violet.
+
+    _Motto._  Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
+              Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
+    _Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
+              With gazing on her heauenly eies:
+
+    _Motto._  Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
+              Which somtyme was their chiefe delight,                 10
+    _Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
+              That liue in presence of her sight:
+
+    _Motto._  How com those flowers to florish still,
+              Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
+    _Perkin._ She hath robd nature of her skill,
+              And comforts all things with her breath:
+
+    _Motto._  Why slide these brookes so slow away,
+              As swift as the wild Roe that were,
+    _Perkin._ O muse not shepheard that they stay,
+              When they her heauenly voice do heare.                  20
+
+    _Motto._  From whence com all these goodly swayns
+              And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
+    _Perkin._ From gathering garlands on the playnes,
+              To crowne thy _Siluia_ shepheards queen.
+
+    _Motto._  The sun that lights this world below,
+              Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
+    _Perkin._ These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
+              Thy _Syluia_ is as chast, as fayre.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Rowland._ Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
+    _Chorus._  Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
+    _Row:_     O she alone the shepheards Queen,
+    _Cho:_     Her Flocke that leades,
+               The goddesse of these medes,
+               These mountaines and these plaines.
+
+    _Row:_     Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
+    _Cho:_     Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
+    _Row:_     Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
+    _Cho:_     Fy on that prayse,                                     10
+               In striuing things to rayse:
+               That doth but make them lesse.
+
+    _Row:_     That doe the flowery spring prolong,
+    _Cho:_     So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
+    _Row:_     And keeps the plenteous summer young:
+    _Cho:_     And doth asswage
+               The wrathfull winters rage
+               That would our flocks destroy.
+
+    _Row:_     _Ioue_ saw her brest that naked lay,
+    _Cho:_     A sight alone was fit for _Ioue_ to see:               20
+    _Row:_     And swore it was the milkie way,
+    _Cho:_     Of all most pure,
+               The path (we vs assure)
+               Vnto _Ioues_ court to be.
+
+    _Row:_     He saw her tresses hanging downe.
+    _Cho:_     That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
+    _Row:_     And sayd that _Ariadnes_ crowne,
+    _Cho:_     With those compar'd:
+               The gods should not regard
+               Nor _Berenices_ hayre.                                 30
+
+    _Row:_     When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,
+    _Cho:_     O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:
+    _Row:_     They neuer needed _Cynthia's_ light,
+    _Cho:_     That soone gaue place,
+               Amazed with her grace,
+               That did attend thy sheepe.
+
+    _Row:_     Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
+    _Cho:_     When as she shall be placed in the skies,
+    _Row:_     She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
+    _Cho:_     And euermore,                                          40
+               We shepheards will adore,
+               Her setting and her rise.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton's;
+chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends' books. The
+first song is from _England's Helicon_, and is, I think, too pretty to
+be lost. Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their
+inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of
+which there are doubtless a few still lacking. But I have tried to make
+the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.
+
+
+From _England's Helicon_ (1600) p. 97.
+
+Rowlands _Madrigall._
+
+    Faire Loue rest thee heere,
+    Neuer yet was morne so cleere,
+    Sweete be not vnkinde,
+    Let me thy fauour finde,
+        Or else for loue I die.
+
+    Harke this pretty bubling spring,
+    How it makes the Meadowes ring,
+    Loue now stand my friend,
+    Heere let all sorrow end,
+        And I will honour thee.                                       10
+
+    See where little _Cupid_ lyes,
+    Looking babies in her eyes.
+    _Cupid_ helpe me now,
+    Lend to me thy bowe,
+        To wound her that wounded me.
+
+    Heere is none to see or tell,
+    All our flocks are feeding by,
+    This Banke with Roses spred,
+    Oh it is a dainty bed,
+        Fit for my Loue and me.                                       20
+
+    Harke the birds in yonder Groaue,
+    How they chaunt vnto my Loue,
+    Loue be kind to me,
+    As I haue beene to thee,
+        For thou hast wonne my hart.
+
+    Calme windes blow you faire,
+    Rock her thou gentle ayre,
+    O the morne is noone,
+    The euening comes too soone,
+        To part my Loue and me.                                       30
+
+    The Roses and thy lips doo meete,
+    Oh that life were halfe so sweete,
+    Who would respect his breath,
+    That might die such a death,
+        Oh that life thus might die.
+
+    All the bushes that be neere,
+    With sweet Nightingales beset,
+    Hush sweete and be still,
+    Let them sing their fill,
+        There's none our ioyes to let.                                40
+
+    Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast?
+    Oh why doo'st thou make such hast?
+    It is too early yet,
+    So soone from ioyes to flit
+        Why art thou so vnkind?
+
+    See my little Lambkins runne,
+    Looke on them till I haue done,
+    Hast not on the night,
+    To rob me of her light,
+        That liue but by her eyes.                                    50
+
+    Alas, sweete Loue, we must depart,
+    Harke, my dogge begins to barke,
+    Some bodie's comming neere,
+    They shall not find vs heere,
+        For feare of being chid.
+
+    Take my Garland and my Gloue,
+    Weare it for my sake my Loue,
+    To morrow on the greene,
+    Thou shalt be our Sheepheards Queene,
+        Crowned with Roses gay.                                       60
+
+                      _Mich. Drayton._
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+From T. Morley's _First Book of Ballets_ (1595).
+
+Mr. M.D. to the Author.
+
+    Such was old _Orpheus_ cunning,
+    That sencelesse things drew neere him,
+    And heards of beasts to heare him,
+    The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,
+    Morley! but this enchaunting
+    To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.
+    And yet thou needst not feare him;
+    Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,
+    And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.
+
+
+Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's _Legend of Humphrey Duke of
+Gloucester_ (1600).
+
+To his friend, Master _Chr. M._ his Booke.
+
+    Like as a man, on some aduenture bound
+    His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,
+    T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;
+    Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,
+    That if the voyage (happily) be good:
+    They his good fortune freely may pertake;
+    If otherwise it perrish in the flood,
+    Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.
+    On thy returne I put this little forth,
+    My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,
+    Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,
+    Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;
+      And if thy fortune prosper, I may see
+      I haue some share, though most returne to thee.
+
+                                  _Mich. Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; _Holy Roode_ (1609).
+
+_To_ M. IOHN DAVIES, _my good friend_.
+
+    _Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,
+    And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,
+    As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,
+    If with the _Muses_ they will haue commerce:
+    Seldome at _Stawles_, me, this way men rehearse,
+    To mine _Inferiours_, not unto my _Betters:
+    _He stales his _Lines_ that so doeth them disperse;
+    I am so free, I loue not _Golden-fetters_.
+    And many _Lines_ fore _Writers_, be but Setters
+    To them which cheate with_ Papers; _which doth pierse,
+    Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:
+    To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse
+      Often (my good _Iohn_; and I loue) thy_ Letters_;
+      Which lend me Credit, as I lend my _Verse_._
+
+                                  Michael Drayton.
+
+
+Prefixed to Sir David Murray's _Sophonisba_ &c. (1611).
+
+_To my kinde friend_ Da: Murray.
+
+    In new attire (and put most neatly on)
+    Thou _Murray_ mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
+    As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
+    Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
+    So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
+    That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
+    Into a body of delicious ayres:
+    Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
+    That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
+    Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,
+    But breathing now vpon our colder shore,
+    Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,
+      Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,
+      That what she was, she's euery where the same.
+
+                                  M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Among the Panegyrical Verses before Coryat's _Crudities_ (1611).
+
+_Incipit Michael Drayton_.
+
+A briefe Prologue to the verses _following_.
+
+    Deare _Tom_, thy booke was like to come to light,
+    Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write;
+    They go before whose wits are at their noones,
+    _And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones._
+
+    Many there be that write before thy Booke,
+    For whom (except here) who could euer looke?
+    Thrice happy are all wee that had the Grace
+    To haue our names set in this liuing place.
+    Most worthy man, with thee it is euen thus,
+    As men take _Dottrels_, so hast thou ta'n vs.
+    Which as a man his arme or leg doth set,
+    So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit:
+    Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes
+    And we are all thy _Zanies_, thy true _Apes_.                     10
+    I saw this age (from what it was at first)
+    Swolne, and so bigge, that it was like to burst,
+    Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion,
+    That who will thriue, must hazard his damnation:
+    Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist,
+    As to dim heauen: I looked for Antichrist
+    Or some new set of Diuels to sway hell,
+    Worser then those, that in the _Chaos_ fell:
+    Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring,
+    At length it brought forth this: O most strange thing;            20
+    And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head
+    Euer is hard'st to be deliuered.
+    By thee wise _Coryate_ we are taught to know,
+    Great, with great men which is the way to grow.
+    For in a new straine thou com'st finely in,
+    Making thy selfe like those thou mean'st to winne:
+    Greatnesse to me seem'd euer full of feare,
+    Which thou found'st false at thy arriuing there,
+    Of the _Bermudas_, the example such,
+    Where not a ship vntill this time durst touch;                    30
+    Kep't as suppos'd by hels infernall dogs,
+    Our Fleet found their most honest wyld courteous hogs.
+    Liue vertuous _Coryate_, and for euer be
+    Lik'd of such wise men, as are most like thee.
+
+                        _Explicit Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to William Browne's _Britannia's Pastorals_ (1613).
+
+To his Friend the AVTHOR.
+
+    Driue forth thy Flocke, young Pastor, to that Plaine,
+    Where our old Shepheards wont their flocks to feed;
+    To those cleare walkes, where many a skilfull Swaine
+    To'ards the calme eu'ning, tun'd his pleasant Reede,
+    Those, to the _Muses_ once so sacred, Downes,
+    As no rude foote might there presume to stand:
+    (Now made the way of the vnworthiest Clownes,
+    Dig'd and plow'd vp with each vnhallowed hand)
+    If possible thou canst, redeeme those places,
+    Where, by the brim of many a siluer Spring,                       10
+    The learned Maydens, and delightfull Graces
+    Often haue sate to heare our Shepheards sing:
+    Where on those _Pines_ the neighb'ring Groues among,
+    (Now vtterly neglected in these dayes)
+    Our Garlands, Pipes, and Cornamutes were hong
+    The monuments of our deserued praise.
+    So may thy Sheepe like, so thy Lambes increase,
+    And from the Wolfe feede euer safe and free!
+    So maist thou thriue, among the learned prease,
+    As thou young Shepheard art belou'd of mee!                       20
+
+
+Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's _Georgics_ (1618).
+
+To my worthy friend Mr. _George Chapman_, and his translated _Hesiod_.
+
+        _Chapman_; We finde by thy past-prized fraught,
+    What wealth thou dost vpon this Land conferre;
+    Th'olde _Grecian_ Prophets hither that hast brought,
+    Of their full words the true interpreter:
+    And by thy trauell, strongly hast exprest
+    The large dimensions of the English tongue;
+    Deliuering them so well, the first and best,
+    That to the world in Numbers euer sung.
+    Thou hast vnlock'd the treasury, wherein
+    All Art, and knowledge haue so long been hidden:                  10
+    Which, till the gracefull Muses did begin
+    Here to inhabite, was to vs forbidden.
+        In blest _Elizivm_ (in a place most fit)
+    Vnder that tree due to the _Delphian_ God,
+    _Musæus_, and that _Iliad Singer_ sit,
+    And neare to them that noble _Hesiod_,
+    Smoothing their rugged foreheads; and do smile,
+    After so many hundred yeares to see
+    Their Poems read in this farre westerne Ile,
+    Translated from their ancient Greeke, by thee;                    20
+    Each his good _Genius_ whispering in his eare,
+    That with so lucky, and auspicious fate
+    Did still attend them, whilst they liuing were,
+    And gaue their Verses such a lasting date.
+    Where slightly passing by the _Thespian_ spring,
+    Many long after did but onely sup;
+    Nature, then fruitfull, forth these men did bring,
+    To fetch deep Rowses from _Ioues_ plentious cup.
+        In thy free labours (friend) then rest content,
+    Feare not _Detraction_, neither fawne on _Praise_:                30
+    When idle _Censure_ all her force hath spent,
+    _Knowledge_ can crowne her self with her owne Baies.
+    Their Lines, that haue so many liues outworne,
+    Cleerely expounded shall base Enuy scorne.
+
+                                  _Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to Book ij. of _Primaleon_, &c. Translated by Anthony Munday
+(1619).
+
+_OF THE WORKE_ _and Translation._
+
+    _If in opinion of iudiciall wit,_
+    Primaleons_ sweet Invention well deserue:
+    Then he (no lesse) which hath translated it,
+    Which doth his sense, his forme, his phrase, obserue.
+    And in true method of his home-borne stile,
+    (Following the fashion of a French conceate)
+    Hath brought him heere into this famous Ile,
+    Where but a stranger, now hath made his seate.
+      He liues a Prince, and comming in this sort,
+      Shall to his Countrey of your fame report._
+
+                                  M.D.
+
+
+From _Annalia Dubrensia_ (1636).
+
+TO MY NOBLE Friend Mr. ROBERT DOVER, on his braue annuall
+_Assemblies_ vpon _Cotswold_.
+
+    Douer, to doe thee Right, who will not striue,
+    That dost in these dull yron Times reuiue
+    The golden Ages glories; which poore Wee
+    Had not so much as dream't on but for Thee?
+    As those braue _Grecians_ in their happy dayes,
+    On Mount Olympus to their _Hercules_
+    Ordain'd their games Olimpick, and so nam'd
+    Of that great Mountaine; for those pastimes fam'd:
+    Where then their able Youth, Leapt, Wrestled, Ran,
+    Threw the arm'd Dart; and honour'd was the _Man_                  10
+    That was the Victor; In the Circute there
+    The nimble Rider, and skill'd Chariotere
+    Stroue for the Garland; In those noble Times
+    There to their Harpes the Poets sang their Rimes;
+    That whilst _Greece_ flourisht, and was onely then
+    Nurse of all Arts, and of all famous men:
+    Numbring their yeers, still their accounts they made,
+    Either from this or that _Olimpiade_.
+    So _Douer_, from these _Games_, by thee begun,
+    Wee'l reckon Ours, as time away doth run.                         20
+    Wee'l haue thy Statue in some Rocke cut out,
+    With braue Inscriptions garnished about;
+    And vnder written, _Loe, this was the man,_
+    DOVER, _that first these noble Sports began._
+    Ladds of the Hills, and Lasses of the Vale,
+    In many a song, and many a merry Tale
+    Shall mention Thee; and hauing leaue to play,
+    Vnto thy name shall make a Holy day.
+    The _Cosswold_ Shepheards as their flockes they keepe,
+    To put off lazie drowsinesse and sleepe,                          30
+    Shall sit to tell, and heare thy Story tould,
+    That night shall come ere they their flocks can fould.
+
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES
+
+
+These notes are not intended to supply materials for the criticism of
+the text. So freely, indeed, did Drayton alter his poems for a fresh
+edition, that the ordinary machinery of an _apparatus criticus_ would be
+overtasked if the attempt were made. All that has been undertaken here
+is to provide the requisite information in places where the text
+followed seemed open to suspicion.
+
+It may be added that the punctuation of the originals has in general
+been preserved; in a few flagrant instances, where the text as it stood
+was misleading, it has been modified. Such changes are not noted here.
+
+  2,  1, l.  14    vertues] vertuous 1619
+
+  3,  3, l.   1    Ioue] loue 1599, 1602, 1605
+
+         l.   3    them forth,] them, forth 1599. _But the 1619 version
+                     supports the reading in the text._
+
+  5,  8, l.   8    men] ones 1599: women 1619
+
+         l.   9    to 1599, 1619: of 1594
+
+  6,  9, l.  11    in] on 1602
+
+     10, l.  12    her] his 1602: their 1619
+
+  8, 14, l.  14    anatomize 1599. _But there is ground for believing
+                     that_ anotamize _represents a current
+                     pronunciation._
+
+  9, 15, l.  10    She'st] ? She'll
+
+ 10, 17, l.   9    Were] Where 1594
+
+     18, l.   5    Elizia] Elizium 1599
+
+ 11, 20, l.  10    whir-poole] whirl-poole 1602
+
+         l.  12    Helycon] Helicon 1602
+
+ 14, 26, l.   5    Thy 1599 etc.: The 1594
+
+ 15, 27, l.   4    Thus] This 1594
+
+         l.  12    depriued] ? depraued
+
+ 18, 33, l.   3    Wishing] Wisheth 1599
+
+ 19, 36, l.  13    And others] And eithers 1599
+
+ 20, 37, l.   4    euer-certaine] neuer-certaine 1602
+
+ 28,  1, l.   4    song] sung 1613
+
+ 31, 10, l.   2    bids] bad 1619
+
+         l.  12    my ... his] his ... my 1619
+
+ 37, 30, l.  14    hollowed] halowed 1605: hallow'd 1619. _But cf._ 94,
+                   l. 18.
+
+ 38, 43, l.   3    Wherein 1602, 1605: Where, in 1619: Wherein 1599
+
+ 39, 44, l.   4    Paynting] Panting 1608
+
+         l.   8    Wherein 1602, 1605, 1619: Where in 1599
+
+ 40, 55, l.   7    forces heere,] forces, here 1619
+
+     56, _heading_ A Consonet] A Cansonet 1602
+
+ 41, 57, l.  13    yet] then 1595
+
+ 42, 17, ll. 4, 13 Promethius] Prometheus 1605
+
+ 43, 27, l.   2    Who can he loue? 1608: Who? can he loue: 1619
+
+         l.  12    They resolute,] They resolute? 1608, 1619
+
+ 44, 31, l.   4    appose] oppose 1608, 1619
+
+         l.   9    They 1619: The 1602, 1605, 1608
+
+ 48, 47, l.   8    a 1619: and 1605, 1608
+
+ 49, 51, l.   1    to 1608: _omitted in_ 1605
+
+ 53, 21, l.  11    soe] ? loe
+
+         l.  13    Troth] Froth 1619
+
+ 71,     l.  16    scowles] scoulds 1606
+
+         l.  37    whome 1606: whose 1619
+
+         l.  41    rage 1606: age 1619
+
+ 74,     l.  25    he 1619: shee 1606
+
+ 77,     l.  34    some few 1606: some, few 1619
+
+ 79,     l.  10    their] ? there.
+
+ 83,     l.  72    Stuck] _The emendation_ Struck _is tempting (the form
+                     is somewhat uncommon but not unparalleled);
+                     especially in view of_ l. 80.
+
+ 94,     l.  18    hollow'd] _cf._ 37, 30, l. 14
+
+ 96,     l. 120    the] _no doubt a printer's error for_ they
+
+ 97,     l. 125    be lowe] belowe 1627
+
+ 97,     l. 126    whether] whethet 1627
+
+ 98,     l.  37    it] _omitted in_ 1627
+
+101,     l.  62    be] ? been
+
+104,     l.  88    him] ? them
+
+         l.  94    ceaze 1620: lease 1627
+
+106,     l.  37    his] _omitted in_ 1631
+
+         l.  56    warnd] warne 1627
+
+110,     l. 105    Neat] Next _conj. Beeching_
+
+118,    _heading_  Chaplaine] Chapliane 1627
+
+120,     l.  81    extirpe 1631: extipe 1627
+
+146,     l.  90    fett] sett _and_ frett _have been conjectured._
+
+153,     l.  92    debate] delate 1627
+
+154,     l. 115    claue] ? cleaue
+
+156,     l. 220    euery] euer 1627
+
+174,     l. 225    wither] whither 1630
+
+177,     l. 343    rawe] taw 1748
+
+192,     l.  18    there] they 1630
+
+232,     l.  12    vnto] vp to 1619
+
+233,     l.  53    fame] faire 1606
+
+234,     l.  66    moue] mock 1606
+
+238,     l.  25    feature] features 1619
+
+240,     l.  99    long] loue 1606
+
+242, _Ecl. ij,_ l. 21  moane 1600: moans 1605
+
+243,     l.  55    But it if the Male doth want 1619
+
+244,     l.  37    along she went 1619: she went along 1606
+
+245,     l.  43    lowe] loud 1600, 1619
+
+247,     l.  37    glories 1619: glorious 1606
+
+
+ERRATA
+
+Page  94, l.   5  _for_ of said _read_ said
+
+  "  173, l. 170  _for_ you _read_ your
+
+
+
+
+Oxford
+Printed at the Clarendon Press
+By Horace Hart, M.A.
+Printer to the University
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Minor Poems of Michael Drayton
+
+Author: Michael Drayton
+
+Editor: Cyril Brett
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2006 [EBook #17873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINOR POEMS OF MICHAEL DRAYTON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MINOR POEMS
+OF
+MICHAEL DRAYTON
+
+
+CHOSEN AND EDITED BY
+CYRIL BRETT
+
+
+OXFORD
+AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
+1907
+
+
+Henry Frowde, M.A.
+Publisher to the University of Oxford
+London, Edinburgh, New York
+and Toronto
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                              PAGE
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE                             iv
+
+INTRODUCTION                                     v
+
+SONNETS (1594)                                   1
+
+SONNETS (1599)                                  28
+
+SONNETS (1602)                                  42
+
+SONNETS (1605)                                  47
+
+SONNETS (1619)                                  51
+
+ODES (1619)                                     56
+
+ODES (1606)                                     85
+
+ELEGIES (1627)                                  88
+
+NIMPHIDIA (1627)                               124
+
+THE QUEST OF CYNTHIA                           144
+
+THE SHEPARDS SIRENA                            151
+
+THE MUSES ELIZIUM (1630)                       161
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1593)       231
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1605)       240
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1606)       242
+
+APPENDIX                                       248
+
+NOTES                                          257
+
+
+
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF DRAYTON'S LIFE AND WORKS
+
+
+1563       Drayton born at Hartshill, Warwickshire.
+
+1572?      Drayton a page in the house of Sir Henry Goodere, at
+                  Polesworth.
+
+c. 1574    Anne Goodere born?
+
+Feb. 1591  Drayton in London. _Harmony of Church_.
+
+1593       _Idea, the Shepherd's Garland_. _Legend of Peirs Gaveston_.
+
+1594       _Ideas Mirrour_. _Matilda_. Lucy Harrington becomes Countess
+                  of Bedford.
+
+1595       Sir Henry Goodere the elder dies. _Endimion and Phoebe_,
+                  dedicated to Lucy Bedford.
+
+1595-6     Anne Goodere married to Sir Henry Rainsford.
+
+1596       _Mortimeriados_. _Legends of Robert, Matilda, and Gaveston_.
+
+1597       _England's Heroical Epistles_.
+
+1598       Drayton already at work on the _Polyolbion_.
+
+1599       _Epistles_ and _Idea_ sonnets, new edition. (Date of Portrait
+                  of Drayton in National Portrait Gallery.)
+
+1600       _Sir John Oldcastle_.
+
+1602       New edition of _Epistles_ and _Idea_.
+
+1603       Drayton made an Esquire of the Bath, to Sir Walter Aston.
+                  _To the Maiestie of King James_. _Barons' Wars_.
+
+1604       _The Owle_. _A Pean Triumphall_. _Moyses in a Map of his
+                  Miracles_.
+
+1605       First collected edition of _Poems_. Another edition of
+                  _Idea_ and _Epistles_.
+
+1606       _Poemes Lyrick and Pastorall_. _Odes_. _Eglogs_.
+                  _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+1607       _Legend of Great Cromwell_.
+
+1608       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1609       Another edition of _Cromwell_.
+
+1610       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1613       Reprint of Collected Poems. First Part of _Polyolbion_.
+
+1618       Two _Elegies_ in FitzGeoffrey's _Satyrs and Epigrames_.
+
+1619       Collected Folio edition of Poems.
+
+1620       Second edition of _Elegies_, and reprint of 1619 Poems.
+
+1622       _Polyolbion_ complete.
+
+1627       _Battle of Agincourt_, _Nymphidia_, &c.
+
+1630       _Muses Elizium_. _Noah's Floud_. _Moses his Birth and
+                  Miracles_. _David and Goliah_.
+
+1631       Second edition of 1627 folio. Drayton dies towards the end
+                  of the year.
+
+1636       Posthumous poem appeared in _Annalia Dubrensia_.
+
+1637       _Poems_.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Michael Drayton was born in 1563, at Hartshill, near Atherstone, in
+Warwickshire, where a cottage, said to have been his, is still shown. He
+early became a page to Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth Hall: his own
+words give the best picture of his early years here.[1] His education
+would seem to have been good, but ordinary; and it is very doubtful if
+he ever went to a university.[2] Besides the authors mentioned in the
+Epistle to Henry Reynolds, he was certainly familiar with Ovid and
+Horace, and possibly with Catullus: while there seems no reason to doubt
+that he read Greek, though it is quite true that his references to Greek
+authors do not prove any first-hand acquaintance. He understood French,
+and read Rabelais and the French sonneteers, and he seems to have been
+acquainted with Italian.[3] His knowledge of English literature was
+wide, and his judgement good: but his chief bent lay towards the
+history, legendary and otherwise, of his native country, and his vast
+stores of learning on this subject bore fruit in the _Polyolbion_.
+
+While still at Polesworth, Drayton fell in love with his patron's
+younger daughter, Anne;[4] and, though she married, in 1596, Sir Henry
+Rainsford of Clifford, Drayton continued his devotion to her for many
+years, and also became an intimate friend of her husband's, writing a
+sincere elegy on his death.[5] About February, 1591, Drayton paid a
+visit to London, and published his first work, the _Harmony of the
+Church_, a series of paraphrases from the Old Testament, in
+fourteen-syllabled verse of no particular vigour or grace. This book was
+immediately suppressed by order of Archbishop Whitgift, possibly because
+it was supposed to savour of Puritanism.[6] The author, however,
+published another edition in 1610; indeed, he seems to have had a
+fondness for this style of work; for in 1604 he published a dull poem,
+_Moyses in a Map of his Miracles_, re-issued in 1630 as _Moses his Birth
+and Miracles_. Accompanying this piece, in 1630, were two other 'Divine
+poems': _Noah's Floud_, and _David and Goliath_. _Noah's Floud_ is, in
+part, one of Drayton's happiest attempts at the catalogue style of
+bestiary; and Mr. Elton finds in it some foreshadowing of the manner of
+_Paradise Lost_. But, as a whole, Drayton's attempts in this direction
+deserve the oblivion into which they, in common with the similar
+productions of other authors, have fallen. In the dedication and preface
+to the _Harmony of the Church_ are some of the few traces of Euphuism
+shown in Drayton's work; passages in the _Heroical Epistles_ also occur
+to the mind.[7] He was always averse to affectation, literary or
+otherwise, and in Elegy viij deliberately condemns Lyly's fantastic
+style.
+
+Probably before Drayton went up to London, Sir Henry Goodere saw that he
+would stand in need of a patron more powerful than the master of
+Polesworth, and introduced him to the Earl and Countess of Bedford.
+Those who believe[8] Drayton to have been a Pope in petty spite,
+identify the 'Idea' of his earlier poems with Lucy, Countess of Bedford;
+though they are forced to acknowledge as self-evident that the 'Idea' of
+his later work is Anne, Lady Rainsford. They then proceed to say that
+Drayton, after consistently honouring the Countess in his verse for
+twelve years, abruptly transferred his allegiance, not forgetting to
+heap foul abuse on his former patroness, out of pique at some temporary
+withdrawal of favour. Not only is this directly contrary to all we know
+and can infer of Drayton's character, but Mr. Elton has decisively
+disproved it by a summary of bibliographical and other evidence. Into
+the question it is here unnecessary to enter, and it has been mentioned
+only because it alone, of the many Drayton-controversies, has cast any
+slur on the poet's reputation.
+
+In 1593, Drayton published _Idea, the Shepherds Garland_, in nine
+Eclogues; in 1606 he added a tenth, the best of all, to the new edition,
+and rearranged the order, so that the new eclogue became the ninth. In
+these Pastorals, while following the _Shepherds Calendar_ in many ways,
+he already displays something of the sturdy independence which
+characterized him through life. He abandons Spenser's quasi-rustic
+dialect, and, while keeping to most of the pastoral conventions, such as
+the singing-match and threnody, he contrives to introduce something of a
+more natural and homely strain. He keeps the political allusions,
+notably in the Eclogue containing the song in praise of _Beta_, who is,
+of course, Queen Elizabeth. But an over-bold remark in the last line of
+that song was struck out in 1606; and the new eclogue has no political
+reference. He is not ashamed to allude directly to Spenser; and indeed
+his direct debts are limited to a few scattered phrases, as in the
+_Ballad_ of _Dowsabel_. Almost to the end of his literary career,
+Drayton mentions Spenser with reverence and praise.[9]
+
+It is in the songs interspersed in the Eclogues that Drayton's best work
+at this time is to be found: already his metrical versatility is
+discernible; for though he doubtless remembered the many varieties of
+metre employed by Spenser in the _Calendar_, his verses already bear a
+stamp of their own. The long but impetuous lines, such as 'Trim up her
+golden tresses with Apollo's sacred tree', afford a striking contrast to
+the archaic romance-metre, derived from _Sir Thopas_ and its fellows,
+which appears in _Dowsabel_, and it again to the melancholy, murmuring
+cadences of the lament for Elphin. It must, however, be confessed that
+certain of the songs in the 1593 edition were full of recondite conceits
+and laboured antitheses, and were rightly struck out, to be replaced by
+lovelier poems, in the edition of 1606. The song to Beta was printed in
+_Englands Helicon_, 1600; here, for the first time, appeared the song of
+_Dead Love_, and for the only time, _Rowlands Madrigal_. In these songs,
+Drayton offends least in grammar, always a weak point with him; in the
+body of the Eclogues, in the earlier Sonnets, in the Odes, occur the
+most extraordinary and perplexing inversions. Quite the most striking
+feature of the Eclogues, especially in their later form, is their bold
+attempt at greater realism, at a breaking-away from the conventional
+images and scenery.
+
+Having paid his tribute to one poetic fashion, Drayton in 1594 fell in
+with the prevailing craze for sonneteering, and published _Ideas
+Mirrour_, a series of fifty-one 'amours' or sonnets, with two prefatory
+poems, one by Drayton and one by an unknown, signing himself _Gorbo il
+fidele_. The title of these poems Drayton possibly borrowed from the
+French sonneteer, de Pontoux: in their style much recollection of
+Sidney, Constable, and Daniel is traceable. They are ostensibly
+addressed to his mistress, and some of them are genuine in feeling; but
+many are merely imitative exercises in conceit; some, apparently, trials
+in metre. These amours were again printed, with the title of 'sonnets',
+in _1599_[10], 1600, _1602_, 1603, _1605_, 1608, 1610, 1613, _1619_, and
+1631, during the poet's lifetime. It is needless here to discuss whether
+Drayton were the 'rival poet' to Shakespeare, whether these sonnets were
+really addressed to a man, or merely to the ideal Platonic beauty; for
+those who are interested in these points, I subjoin references to the
+sonnets which touch upon them.[11] From the prentice-work evident in
+many of the _Amours_, it would seem that certain of them are among
+Drayton's earliest poems; but others show a craftsman not meanly
+advanced in his art. Nevertheless, with few exceptions, this first
+'bundle of sonnets' consists rather of trials of skill, bubbles of the
+mind; most of his sonnets which strike the reader as touched or
+penetrated with genuine passion belong to the editions from 1599
+onwards; implying that his love for Anne Goodere, if at all represented
+in these poems, grew with his years, for the 'love-parting' is first
+found in the edition of 1619. But for us the question should not be, are
+these sonnets genuine representations of the personal feeling of the
+poet? but rather, how far do they arouse or echo in us as individuals
+the universal passion? There are at least some of Drayton's sonnets
+which possess a direct, instant, and universal appeal, by reason of
+their simple force and straightforward ring; and not in virtue of any
+subtle charm of sound and rhythm, or overmastering splendour of diction
+or thought. Ornament vanishes, and soberness and simplicity increase, as
+we proceed in the editions of the sonnets. Drayton's chief attempt in
+the jewelled or ornamental style appeared in 1595, with the title of
+_Endimion and Phoebe_, and was, in a sense, an imitation of Marlowe's
+_Hero and Leander_. _Hero and Leander_ is, as Swinburne says, a shrine
+of Parian marble, illumined from within by a clear flame of passion;
+while _Endimion and Phoebe_ is rather a curiously wrought tapestry, such
+as that in Mortimer's Tower, woven in splendid and harmonious colours,
+wherein, however, the figures attain no clearness or subtlety of
+outline, and move in semi-conventional scenery. It is, none the less,
+graceful and impressive, and of a like musical fluency with other poems
+of its class, such as _Venus and Adonis_, or _Salmacis and
+Hermaphrodius_. Parts of it were re-set and spoilt in a 1606 publication
+of Drayton's, called _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+In 1593 and 1594 Drayton also published his earliest pieces on the
+mediaeval theme of the 'Falls of the Illustrious'; they were _Peirs
+Gavesson_ and _Matilda the faire and chaste daughter of the Lord Robert
+Fitzwater_. Here Drayton followed in the track of Boccaccio, Lydgate,
+and the _Mirrour for Magistrates_, walking in the way which Chaucer had
+derided in his _Monkes Tale_: and with only too great fidelity does
+Drayton adapt himself to the dullnesses of his model: fine rhetoric is
+not altogether wanting, and there is, of course, the consciousness that
+these subjects deal with the history of his beloved country, but neither
+these, nor _Robert, Duke of Normandy_ (1596), nor _Great Cromwell, Earl
+of Essex_ (1607 and 1609), nor the _Miseries of Margaret_ (1627) can
+escape the charge of tediousness.[12] _England's Heroical Epistles_ were
+first published in 1597, and other editions, of 1598, 1599, and 1602,
+contain new epistles. These are Drayton's first attempt to strike out a
+new and original vein of English poetry: they are a series of letters,
+modelled on Ovid's _Heroides_,[13] addressed by various pairs of lovers,
+famous in English history, to each other, and arranged in chronological
+order, from Henry II and Rosamond to Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guilford
+Dudley. They are, in a sense, the most important of Drayton's writings,
+and they have certainly been the most popular, up to the early
+nineteenth century. In these poems Drayton foreshadowed, and probably
+inspired, the smooth style of Fairfax, Waller, and Dryden. The metre,
+the grammar, and the thought, are all perfectly easy to follow, even
+though he employs many of the Ovidian 'turns' and 'clenches'. A certain
+attempt at realization of the different characters is observable, but
+the poems are fine rhetorical exercises rather than realizations of the
+dramatic and passionate possibilities of their themes. In 1596, Drayton,
+as we have seen, published the _Mortimeriados_, a kind of epic, with
+Mortimer as its hero, of the wars between King Edward II and the
+Barons.[14] It was written in the seven-line stanza of Chaucer's
+_Troilus and Cressida_ and Spenser's _Hymns_. On its republication in
+1603, with the title of the _Barons' Wars_, the metre was changed to
+_ottava rima_, and Drayton showed, in an excellent preface, that he
+fully appreciated the principles and the subtleties of the metrical art.
+While possessing many fine passages, the _Barons' Wars_ is somewhat
+dull, lacking much of the poetry of the older version; and does not
+escape from Drayton's own criticism of Daniel's Chronicle Poems: 'too
+much historian in verse, ... His rhymes were smooth, his metres well did
+close, But yet his manner better fitted prose'.[15] The description of
+Mortimer's Tower in the sixth book recalls the ornate style of _Endimion
+and Phoebe_, while the fifth book, describing the miseries of King
+Edward, is the most moving and dramatic. But there is a general
+lifelessness and lack of movement for which these purple passages barely
+atone. The cause of the production of so many chronicle poems about this
+time has been supposed[16] to be the desire of showing the horrors of
+civil war, at a time when the queen was growing old, and no successor
+had, as it seemed, been accepted. Also they were a kind of parallel to
+the Chronicle Play; and Drayton, in any case even if we grant him to
+have been influenced by the example of Daniel, never needed much
+incentive to treat a national theme.
+
+About this time, we find Drayton writing for the stage. It seems
+unnecessary here to discuss whether the writing of plays is evidence of
+Drayton's poverty, or his versatility;[17] but the fact remains that he
+had a hand in the production of about twenty. Of these, the only one
+which certainly survives is _The first part of the true and honorable
+historie, of the life of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham,_ &c.
+It is practically impossible to distinguish Drayton's share in this
+curious play, and it does not, therefore, materially assist the
+elucidation of the question whether he had any dramatic feeling or
+skill. It can be safely affirmed that the dramatic instinct was nor
+uppermost in his mind; he was a Seneca rather than a Euripides: but to
+deny him all dramatic idea, as does Dr. Whitaker, is too severe. There
+is decided, if slender, dramatic skill and feeling in certain of the
+_Nymphals_. Drayton's persons are usually, it must be said, rather
+figures in a tableau, or series of tableaux; but in the second and
+seventh _Nymphals_, and occasionally in the tenth, there is real
+dramatic movement. Closely connected with this question is the
+consideration of humour, which is wrongly denied to Drayton. Humour is
+observable first, perhaps, in the _Owle_ (1604); then in the _Ode to his
+Rival_ (1619); and later in the _Nymphidia_, _Shepheards Sirena_, and
+_Muses Elyzium_. The second _Nymphal_ shows us the quiet laughter, the
+humorous twinkle, with which Drayton writes at times. The subject is an
+[Greek: ag�n] or contest between two shepherds for the affections of a
+nymph called Lirope: Lalus is a vale-bred swain, of refined and elegant
+manners, skilled, nevertheless, in all manly sports and exercises;
+Cleon, no less a master in physical prowess, was nurtured by a hind in
+the mountains; the contrast between their manners is admirably
+sustained: Cleon is rough, inclined to be rude and scoffing, totally
+without tact, even where his mistress is concerned. Lalus remembers her
+upbringing and her tastes; he makes no unnecessary or ostentatious
+display of wealth; his gifts are simple and charming, while Cleon's are
+so grotesquely unsuited to a swain, that it is tempting to suppose that
+Drayton was quietly satirizing Marlowe's _Passionate Shepherd_. Lirope
+listens gravely to the swains in turn, and makes demure but provoking
+answers, raising each to the height of hope, and then casting them both
+down into the depths of despair; finally she refuses both, yet without
+altogether killing hope. Her first answer is a good specimen of her
+banter and of Drayton's humour.[18]
+
+On the accession of James I, Drayton hastened to greet the King with a
+somewhat laboured song _To the Maiestie of King James_; but this poem
+was apparently considered to be premature: he cried _Vivat Rex_, without
+having said, _Mortua est eheu Regina_, and accordingly he suffered the
+penalty of his 'forward pen',[19] and was severely neglected by King and
+Court. Throughout James's reign a darker and more satirical mood
+possesses Drayton, intruding at times even into his strenuous
+recreation-ground, the _Polyolbion_, and manifesting itself more
+directly in his satires, the _Owle_ (1604), the _Moon-Calfe_ (1627), the
+_Man in the Moone_ (1606), and his verse-letters and elegies; while his
+disappointment with the times, the country, and the King, flashes out
+occasionally even in the Odes, and is heard in his last publication, the
+_Muses Elizium_ (1630). To counterbalance the disappointment in his
+hopes from the King, Drayton found a new and life-long friend in Walter
+Aston, of Tixall, in Staffordshire; this gentleman was created Knight of
+the Bath by James, and made Drayton one of his esquires. By Aston's
+'continual bounty' the poet was able to devote himself almost entirely
+to more congenial literary work; for, while Meres speaks of the
+_Polyolbion_ in 1598,[20] and we may easily see that Drayton had the
+idea of that work at least as early as 1594,[21] yet he cannot have been
+able to give much time to it till now. Nevertheless, the 'declining and
+corrupt times' worked on Drayton's mind and grieved and darkened his
+soul, for we must remember that he was perfectly prosperous then and was
+not therefore incited to satire by bodily want or distress.
+
+In 1604 he published the _Owle_, a mild satire, under the form of a
+moral fable of government, reminding the reader a little of the
+_Parlement of Foules_. _The Man in the Moone_ (1606) is partly a
+recension of _Endimion and Phoebe_, but is a heterogeneous mass of
+weakly satire, of no particular merit. The _Moon-Calfe_ (1627) is
+Drayton's most savage and misanthropic excursion into the region of
+Satire; in which, though occasionally nobly ironic, he is more usually
+coarse and blustering, in the style of Marston.[22] In 1605 Drayton
+brought out his first 'collected poems', from which the _Eclogues_ and
+the _Owle_ are omitted; and in 1606 he published his _Poemes Lyrick and
+Pastorall_, _Odes_, _Eglogs_, _The Man in the Moone_. Of these the
+_Eglogs_ are a recension of the _Shepherd's Garland_ of 1593: we have
+already spoken of _The Man in the Moone_. The _Odes_ are by far the most
+important and striking feature of the book. In the preface, Drayton
+professes to be following Pindar, Anacreon, and Horace, though, as he
+modestly implies, at a great distance. Under the title of _Odes_ he
+includes a variety of subjects, and a variety of metres; ranging from an
+_Ode to his Harp_ or _to his Criticks_, to a _Ballad of Agincourt_, or a
+poem on the Rose compared with his Mistress. In the edition of 1619
+appeared several more Odes, including some of the best; while many of
+the others underwent careful revision, notably the _Ballad_. 'Sing wee
+the Rose,' perhaps because of its unintelligibility, and the Ode to his
+friend John Savage, perhaps because too closely imitated from Horace,
+were omitted. Drayton was not the first to use the term _Ode_ for a
+lyrical poem, in English: Soothern in 1584, and Daniel in 1592 had
+preceded him; but he was the first to give the name popularity in
+England, and to lift the kind as Ronsard had lifted it in France; and
+till the time of Cowper no other English poet showed mastery of the
+short, staccato measure of the Anacreontic as distinct from the Pindaric
+Ode. In the _Odes_ Drayton shows to the fullest extent his metrical
+versatility: he touches the Skeltonic metre, the long ten-syllabled line
+of the _Sacrifice to Apollo_; and ascends from the smooth and melodious
+rhythms of the _New Year_ through the inspiring harp-tones of the
+_Virginian Voyage_ to the clangour and swing of the _Ballad of
+Agincourt_. His grammar is possibly more distorted here than anywhere,
+but, as Mr. Elton says, 'these are the obstacles of any poet who uses
+measures of four or six syllables.' His tone throughout is rather that
+of the harp, as played, perhaps, in Polesworth Hall, than that of any
+other instrument; but in 1619 Drayton has taken to him the lute of Carew
+and his compeers. In 1619 the style is lighter, the fancy gayer, more
+exquisite, more recondite. Most of his few metaphysical conceits are to
+be found in these later Odes, as in the _Heart_, the _Valentine_, and
+the _Crier_. In the comparison of the two editions the nobler, if more
+strained, tone of the earlier is obvious; it is still Elizabethan, in
+its nobility of ideal and purpose, in its enthusiasm, in its belief and
+confidence in England and her men; and this even though we catch a
+glimpse of the Jacobean woe in the _Ode to John Savage_: the 1619 Odes
+are of a different world; their spirit is lighter, more insouciant in
+appearance, though perhaps studiedly so; the rhythms are more fantastic,
+with less of strength and firmness, though with more of grace and
+superficial beauty; even the very textual alterations, while usually
+increasing the grace and the music of the lines, remind the reader that
+something of the old spontaneity and freshness is gone.
+
+In 1607 and 1609, Drayton published two editions of the last and weakest
+of his mediaeval poems--the _Legend of Great Cromwell_; and for the next
+few years he produced nothing new, only attending to the publication of
+certain reprints and new editions. During this time, however, he was
+working steadily at the _Polyolbion_, helped by the patronage of Aston
+and of Prince Henry. In 1612-13, Drayton burst upon an indifferent world
+with the first part of the great poem, containing eighteen songs; the
+title-page will give the best idea of the contents and plan of the book:
+'Poly-Olbion or a Chorographicall Description of the Tracts, Riuers,
+Mountaines, Forests, and other Parts of this renowned Isle of Great
+Britaine, With intermixture of the most Remarquable Stories,
+Antiquities, Wonders, Rarityes, Pleasures, and Commodities of the same:
+Digested in a Poem by Michael Drayton, Esq. With a Table added, for
+direction to those occurrences of Story and Antiquities, whereunto the
+Course of the Volume easily leades not.' &c. On this work Drayton had
+been engaged for nearly the whole of his poetical career. The learning
+and research displayed in the poem are extraordinary, almost equalling
+the erudition of Selden in his Annotations to each Song. The first part
+was, for various reasons, a drug in the market, and Drayton found great
+difficulty in securing a publisher for the second part. But during the
+years from 1613 to 1622, he became acquainted with Drummond of
+Hawthornden through a common friend, Sir William Alexander of Menstry,
+afterwards Earl of Stirling. In 1618, Drayton starts a correspondence;
+and towards the end of the year mentions that he is corresponding also
+with Andro Hart, bookseller, of Edinburgh. The subject of his letter was
+probably the publication of the Second Part; which Drayton alludes to in
+a letter of 1619 thus: 'I have done twelve books more, that is from the
+eighteenth book, which was Kent, if you note it; all the East part and
+North to the river Tweed; but it lies by me; for the booksellers and I
+are in terms; they are a company of base knaves, whom I both scorn and
+kick at.' Finally, in 1622, Drayton got Marriott, Grismand, and Dewe, of
+London, to take the work, and it was published with a dedication to
+Prince Charles, who, after his brother's death, had given Drayton
+patronage. Drayton's preface to the Second Part is well worth quoting:
+
+'_To any that will read it._ When I first undertook this Poem, or, as
+some very skilful in this kind have pleased to term it, this Herculean
+labour, I was by some virtuous friends persuaded, that I should receive
+much comfort and encouragement therein; and for these reasons; First,
+that it was a new, clear, way, never before gone by any; then, that it
+contained all the Delicacies, Delights, and Rarities of this renowned
+Isle, interwoven with the Histories of the Britons, Saxons, Normans, and
+the later English: And further that there is scarcely any of the
+Nobility or Gentry of this land, but that he is in some way or other by
+his Blood interested therein. But it hath fallen out otherwise; for
+instead of that comfort, which my noble friends (from the freedom of
+their spirits) proposed as my due, I have met with barbarous ignorance,
+and base detraction; such a cloud hath the Devil drawn over the world's
+judgment, whose opinion is in few years fallen so far below all
+ballatry, that the lethargy is incurable: nay, some of the Stationers,
+that had the selling of the First Part of this Poem, because it went not
+so fast away in the sale, as some of their beastly and abominable trash,
+(a shame both to our language and nation) have either despitefully left
+out, or at least carelessly neglected the Epistles to the Readers, and
+so have cozened the buyers with unperfected books; which these that have
+undertaken the Second Part, have been forced to amend in the First, for
+the small number that are yet remaining in their hands. And some of our
+outlandish, unnatural, English, (I know not how otherwise to express
+them) stick not to say that there is nothing in this Island worth
+studying for, and take a great pride to be ignorant in any thing
+thereof; for these, since they delight in their folly, I wish it may be
+hereditary from them to their posterity, that their children may be
+begg'd for fools to the fifth generation, until it may be beyond the
+memory of man to know that there was ever other of their families:
+neither can this deter me from going on with Scotland, if means and time
+do not hinder me, to perform as much as I have promised in my First
+Song:
+
+    Till through the sleepy main, to _Thuly_ I have gone,
+    And seen the Frozen Isles, the cold _Deucalidon_,
+    Amongst whose iron Rocks, grim _Saturn_ yet remains
+    Bound in those gloomy caves with adamantine chains.
+
+And as for those cattle whereof I spake before, _Odi profanum vulgus, et
+arceo_, of which I account them, be they never so great, and so I leave
+them. To my friends, and the lovers of my labours, I wish all happiness.
+_Michael Drayton._'
+
+The _Polyolbion_ as a whole is easy and pleasant to read; and though in
+some parts it savours too much of a mere catalogue, yet it has many
+things truly poetical. The best books are perhaps the xiij, xiv, and xv,
+where he is on his own ground, and therefore naturally at his best. It
+is interesting to notice how much attention and space he devotes to
+Wales. He describes not only the 'wonders' but also the fauna and flora
+of each district; and of the two it would seem that the flowers
+interested him more. Though he was a keen observer of country sights and
+sounds (a fact sufficiently attested by the _Nymphidia_ and the
+_Nymphals_), it is evident that his interest in most things except
+flowers was rather momentary or conventional than continuous and
+heart-felt; but of the flowers he loves to talk, whether he weaves us a
+garland for the Thame's wedding, or gives us the contents of a maund of
+simples; and his love, if somewhat homely and unimaginative, is apparent
+enough. But the main inspiration, as it is the main theme, of the
+_Polyolbion_ is the glory and might and wealth, past, present, and
+future, of England, her possessions and her folk. Through all this
+glory, however, we catch the tone of Elizabethan sorrow over the 'Ruines
+of Time'; grief that all these mighty men and their works will perish
+and be forgotten, unless the poet makes them live for ever on the lips
+of men. Drayton's own voluminousness has defeated his purpose, and sunk
+his poem by its own bulk. Though it is difficult to go so far as Mr.
+Bullen, and say that the only thing better than a stroll in the
+_Polyolbion_ is one in a Sussex lane, it is still harder to agree with
+Canon Beeching, that 'there are few beauties on the road', the beauties
+are many, though of a quietly rural type, and the road, if long and
+winding, is of good surface, while its cranks constitute much of its
+charm. It is doubtless, from the outside, an appalling poem in these
+days of epitomes and monographs, but it certainly deserves to be rescued
+from oblivion and read.
+
+In 1618 Drayton contributed two _Elegies_ to Henry FitzGeoffrey's
+_Satyrs and Epigrames_. These were on the Lady Penelope Clifton, and on
+'the death of the three sonnes of the Lord Sheffield, drowned neere
+where Trent falleth into Humber'. Neither is remarkable save for
+far-fetched conceits; they were reprinted in 1610, and again, with many
+others, in the volume of 1627. In 1619 Drayton issued a folio collected
+edition of his works, and reprinted it in 1620. In 1627 followed a folio
+of wholly fresh matter, including the _Battaile of Agincourt_; _the
+Miseries of Queene Margarite_, _Nimphidia_, _Quest of Cinthia_,
+_Shepheards Sirena_, _Moone-Calfe_, and _Elegies upon sundry occasions_.
+The _Battaile of Agincourt_ is a somewhat otiose expansion, with purple
+patches, of the _Ballad_; it is, nevertheless, Drayton's best lengthy
+piece on a historical theme. Of the _Miseries of Queene Margarite_ and
+of the _Moone-Calfe_ we have already spoken. The most notable piece in
+the book is the _Nimphidia_. This poem of the Court of Fairy has
+'invention, grace, and humour', as Canon Beeching has said. It would be
+interesting to know exactly when it was composed and committed to paper,
+for it is thought that the three fairy poems in Herrick's _Hesperides_
+were written about 1626. In any case, Drayton's poem touches very
+little, and chiefly in the beginning, on the subject of any one of
+Herrick's three pieces. The style, execution, and impression left on the
+reader are quite different; even as they are totally unlike those of the
+_Midsummer Night's Dream_. Herrick's pieces are extraordinary
+combinations of the idea of 'King of Shadows', with a reality
+fantastically sober: the poems are steeped in moonlight. In Drayton all
+is clear day, or the most unromantic of nights; though everything is
+charming, there is no attempt at idealization, little of the higher
+faculty of imagination; but great realism, and much play of fancy.
+Herrick's verses were written by Cobweb and Moth together, Drayton's by
+Puck. Granting, however, the initial deficiency in subtlety of charm,
+the whole poem is inimitably graceful and piquant. The gay humour, the
+demure horror of the witchcraft, the terrible seriousness of the battle,
+wonderfully realize the mock-heroic gigantesque; and while there is not
+the minute accuracy of Gulliver in Lilliput, Drayton did not write for a
+sceptical or too-prying audience; quite half his readers believed more
+or less in fairies. In the metre of the poem Drayton again echoes that
+of the older romances, as he did in _Dowsabel_. In the _Quest of
+Cinthia_, while ostensibly we come to the real world of mortals, we are
+really in a non-existent land of pastoral convention, in the most
+pseudo-Arcadian atmosphere in which Drayton ever worked. The metre and
+the language are, however, charmingly managed. _The Shepheards Sirena_
+is a poem, apparently, 'where more is meant than meets the ear,' as so
+often in pastoral poetry[23]; it is difficult to see exactly what is
+meant; but the Jacobean strain of doubt and fear is there, and the poem
+would seem to have been written some time earlier than 1627. The
+_Elegies_ comprise a great variety of styles and themes; some are really
+threnodies, some verse-letters, some laments over the evil times, and
+one a summary of Drayton's literary opinions. He employs the couplet in
+his _Elegies_ with a masterly hand, often with a deliberately rugged
+effect, as in his broader Marstonic satire addressed to William Browne;
+while the line of greater smoothness but equal strength is to be seen in
+the letters to Sandys and Jeffreys. He is fantastic and conceited in
+most of the threnodies; but, as is natural, that on his old friend, Sir
+Henry Rainsford, is least artificial and fullest of true feeling. The
+epistle to _Henery Reynolds. Of Poets and Poesie_ shows Drayton as a
+sane and sagacious critic, ready to see the good, but keen to discern
+the weakness also; perhaps the clearest evidence of his critical skill
+is the way in which nearly all of his judgements on his contemporaries
+coincide with the received modern opinions.
+
+In his later years Drayton enjoyed the patronage of the third Earl and
+Countess of Dorset; and in _1630_ he published his last volume, the
+_Muses Elizium_, of which he dedicated the pastoral part to the Earl,
+and the three divine poems at the end to the Countess. The _Muses
+Elizium_ proper consists of Ten Pastorals or Nymphals, prefaced by a
+_Description of Elizium_. The three divine poems have been mentioned
+before, and were _Noah's Floud_, _Moses his Birth and Miracles_, and
+_David and Goliah_. The _Nymphals_ are the crown and summary of much of
+the best in Drayton's work. Here he departed from the conventional type
+of pastoral, even more than in the _Shepherd's Garland_; but to say that
+he sang of English rustic life would hardly be true: the sixth
+_Nymphal_, allowing for a few pardonable exaggerations by the
+competitors, is almost all English, if we except the names; so is the
+tenth with the same exception; the first and fourth might take place
+anywhere, but are not likely in any country; the second is more
+conventional; the fifth is almost, but not quite, English; the third,
+seventh, and ninth are avowedly classical in theme; while the eighth is
+a more delicate and subtle fairy poem than the _Nymphidia_. The fourth
+and tenth _Nymphals_ are also touched with the sadder, almost satiric
+vein; the former inveighing against the English imitation of foreigners
+and love of extravagance in dress; while the tenth complains of the
+improvident and wasteful felling of trees in the English forests. This
+last _Nymphal_, though designedly an epilogue, is probably rather a
+warning than a despairing lament, even though we conceive the old satyr
+to be Drayton himself. As a whole the _Nymphals_ show Drayton at his
+happiest and lightest in style and metre; at his moments of greatest
+serenity and even gaiety; an atmosphere of sunshine seems to envelope
+them all, though the sun sink behind a cloud in the last. His music now
+is that of a rippling stream, whereas in his earlier days he spoke
+weightier and more sonorous words, with a mouth of gold.[24]
+
+To estimate the poetical faculty of Drayton is a somewhat perplexing
+task; for, while rarely subtle, or rising to empyrean heights, he wrote
+in such varied styles, on such various themes, that the task, at first,
+seems that of criticizing many poets, not one. But through all his work
+runs the same eminently English spirit, the same honesty and clearness
+of idea, the same stolidity of purpose, and not infrequently of
+execution also; the same enthusiasm characterizes all his earlier, and
+much of his later work; the enthusiasm especially characteristic of
+Elizabethan England, and shown by Drayton in his passion for England and
+the English, in his triumphant joy in their splendid past, and his
+certainty of their future glory. As a poet, he lacked imagination and
+fine fury; he supplied their place by the airiest and clearest of
+fancies, by the strenuous labour of a great brain illumined by the
+steady flame of love for his country and for his lady. Mr. Courthope has
+said that he lacked loftiness and resolution of artistic purpose;
+without these, we ask, how could a man, not lavishly dowered with poetry
+in his soul, have achieved so much of it? It was his very fixity and
+loftiness of purpose, his English stubbornness and doggedness of
+resolution that enabled him to surmount so many obstacles of style and
+metre, of subject and thought. His two purposes, of glorifying his
+mistress and his friends, and of sounding England's glories past and
+future, while insisting on the dangers of a present decadence, never
+flagged or failed. All his poetry up to 1627 has this object directly or
+secondarily; and much after this date. Of the more abstract and
+universal aspects of his art he had not much conception; but he caught
+eagerly at the fashionable belief in the eternizing power of poetry; and
+had it not been that, where his patriotism was uppermost, he was
+deficient in humour and sense of proportion, he would have succeeded
+better: as it is, his more directly patriotic pieces are usually the
+dullest or longest of his works. He requires, like all other poets, the
+impulse of an absolutely personal and individual feeling, a moment of
+more intimate sympathy, to rouse him to his heights of song. Thus the
+_Ballad of Agincourt_ is on the very theme of all patriotic themes that
+most attracted him; Virginian and other Voyages lay very close to his
+heart; and in certain sonnets to his lady lies his only imperishable
+work. Of sheer melody and power of song he had little, apart from his
+themes: he could not have sat down and written a few lark's or
+nightingale's notes about nothing as some of his contemporaries were
+able to do: he required the stimulus of a subject, and if he were really
+moved thereby he beat the music out. Only in one or two of the later
+Odes, and in the volumes of 1627 and 1630, does his music ever seem to
+flow from him naturally. Akin to this quality of broad and extensive
+workmanship, to this faculty of taking a subject and when writing, with
+all thought concentrated on it, rather than on the method of writing
+about it, is his strange lack of what are usually called 'quotations'.
+For this is not only due to the fact that he is little known; there are,
+besides, so few detached remarks or aphorisms that are separately
+quotable; so few examples of that _curiosa felicitas_ of diction: lines
+like these,
+
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings....
+
+are rare enough. Drayton, in fact, comes as near controverting the
+statement _Poeta nascitur, non fit_, as any one in English literature:
+by diligent toil and earnest desire he won a place for himself in the
+second rank of English poets: through love he once set foot in the
+circle of the mightiest. Sincere he was always, simple often, sensuous
+rarely. His great industry, his careful study, and his great receptivity
+are shown in the unusual spectacle of a man who has sung well in the
+language of his youth, suddenly learning, in his age, the tongue spoken
+by the younger generation, and reproducing it with individuality and
+sureness of touch. It is in rhetoric, splendid or rugged, in argument,
+in plain statement or description, in the outline sketch of a picture,
+that Drayton excels; magic of atmosphere and colouring are rarely
+present. Stolidity is, perhaps, his besetting sin; yet it is the sign of
+a slow, not a dull, intellect; an intellect, like his heart, which never
+let slip what it had once taken to itself.
+
+As a man Drayton would seem to have been an excellent type of the
+sturdy, clear-headed, but yet romantic and enthusiastic Englishman;
+gifted with much natural ability, sedulously increased by study; quietly
+humorous, self-restrained; and if temporarily soured by disappointment
+and the disjointed times, yet emerging at last into a greater serenity,
+a more unadulterated gaiety than had ever before characterized him. It
+is possible, but from his clear and sane balance of mind improbable,
+that many of his light later poems are due to deliberate self-blinding
+and self-deception, a walking in enchanted lands of the mind.
+
+Of Drayton's three known portraits the earliest shows him at the age of
+thirty-six, and is now in the National Portrait Gallery. A look of
+quiet, speculative melancholy seems to pervade it; there is, as yet, no
+moroseness, no evidence of severe conflict with the world, no shadow of
+stress or of doubt. The second and best-known portrait shows us Drayton
+at the age of fifty, and was engraved by Hole, as a frontispiece to the
+poems of 1619. Here a notable change has come over the face; the mouth
+is hardened, and depressed at the corners through disappointment and
+disillusionment; the eyes are full of a pathos increased by the puzzled
+and perturbed uplift of the brows. Yet a stubbornness and tenacity of
+purpose invests the features and reminds us that Drayton is of the old
+and sound Elizabethan stock, 'on evil days though fallen.' Let it be
+remembered, that he was in 1613, when the portrait was taken, in more or
+less prosperous circumstances; it was the sad degeneracy, the meanness
+and feebleness of the generation around him, that chiefly depressed and
+embittered him. The final portrait, now in the Dulwich Gallery,
+represents the poet as a man of sixty-five; and is quite in keeping with
+the sunnier and calmer tone of his later poetry. It is the face of one
+who has not emerged unscathed from the world's conflict, but has
+attained to a certain calm, a measure of tranquillity, a portion of
+content, who has learnt the lesson that there is a soul of goodness in
+things evil. The Hole portrait shows him with long hair, small 'goatee'
+beard, and aquiline nose drawn up at the nostrils: while the National
+portrait shows a type of nose and beard intermediate between the Hole
+and the Dulwich pictures: the general contour of the face, though the
+forehead is broad enough, is long and oval. Drayton seems to have been
+tall and thin, and to have been very susceptible of cold, and therefore
+to have hated Winter and the North.[25] He is said to have shared in the
+supper which caused Shakespeare's death; but his own verses[26] breathe
+the spirit of Milton's sonnet to Cyriack Skinner, rather than that of a
+devotee of Bacchus.
+
+He died in 1631, possibly on December 23, and was buried under the North
+wall of Westminster Abbey. Meres's[27] opinion of his character during
+his early life is as follows: 'As Aulus Persius Flaccus is reported
+among al writers to be of an honest life and vpright conuersation: so
+Michael Drayton, _quem totics honoris et amoris causa nomino_, among
+schollers, souldiours, Poets, and all sorts of people is helde for a man
+of uertuous disposition, honest conversation, and well gouerned cariage;
+which is almost miraculous among good wits in these declining and
+corrupt times, when there is nothing but rogery in villanous man, and
+when cheating and craftines is counted the cleanest wit, and soundest
+wisedome.'[28] Fuller also, in a similar strain, says, 'He was a pious
+poet, his conscience having the command of his fancy, very temperate in
+his life, slow of speech, and inoffensive in company.'
+
+In conclusion I have to thank Mr. H.M. Sanders, of Pembroke College,
+Oxford, for help and advice, and Professor Raleigh and Mr. R.W. Chapman
+for help and criticism while the volume was in the press. Above all, I
+am at every turn indebted to Professor Elton's invaluable _Michael
+Drayton_,[29] without which the work of any student of Drayton would be
+rendered, if not impossible, at least infinitely harder.
+
+    CYRIL BRETT.
+ALTON, STAFFORDSHIRE.
+
+[Footnote 1: Cf. Elegy viij, _To Henery Reynolds, Esquire_, p. 108.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Sir Aston Cokayne, in 1658, says that he went to Oxford,
+while Fleay asserts, without authority, that his university was probably
+Cambridge.]
+
+[Footnote 3: Cf. the motto of _Ideas Mirrour_, the allusions to
+_Ariosto_ in the _Nymphidia_, p. 129; and above all, the _Heroical
+Epistles_; Dedic. of _Ep._ of _D._ of _Suffolk to Q. Margaret_: 'Sweet
+is the _French_ Tongue, more sweet the _Italian_, but most sweet are
+they both, if spoken by your admired self.' Cf. _Surrey to Geraldine_,
+ll. 5 sqq., with Drayton's note.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Cf. Sonnet xij (ed. 1602), p. 42, ''Tis nine years now
+since first I lost my wit.' (This sonnet may, of course, occur in the
+supposed 1600 ed., which would fix an earlier date for Drayton's
+beginning of love.)]
+
+[Footnote 5: Elegy ix, p. 113.]
+
+[Footnote 6: Cf. Morley's ed. of _Barons' Wars_, &c. (1887), p. 6.]
+
+[Footnote 7: Cf. _E.H. Ep._ 'Mat. to K.J.,' 100 sqq., &c.]
+
+[Footnote 8: Professor Courthope and others. There was some excuse for
+blunders before the publication of Professor Elton's book; and they have
+been made easier by an unfortunate misprint. Professor Courthope twice
+misprints the first line of the Love-Parting Sonnet, as 'Since there's
+no help, come let us _rise_ and part', and, so printed, the line
+supports better the theory that the poem refers to a patroness and not
+to a mistress. Cf. Courthope, _Hist. Eng. Poetry_, iii. pp. 40 and 43.]
+
+[Footnote 9: Cf. _E. and Phoebe_, sub fin.; _Shep. Sir._ 145-8; _Ep. Hy.
+Reyn._ 79 sqq.]
+
+[Footnote 10: Those reprints which were really new _editions_ are in
+italics.]
+
+[Footnote 11: 1594 ed., Pref. Son. and nos. 12, 18, 28; 1599 ed., nos.
+3, 31, 46; 1602 ed., 12, 27, 31; and 1603 ed., 47.]
+
+[Footnote 12: Meres thought otherwise. Cf. _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'As
+Accius, M. Atilius, and Milithus were called _Tragediographi_, because
+they writ tragedies: so may wee truly terme Michael Drayton
+_Tragaediographus_ for his passionate penning the downfals of valiant
+Robert of Normandy, chast Matilda, and great Gaueston.' Cf. Barnefield,
+_Poems: in diuers humors_ (ed. Arber, p. 119), 'And Drayton, whose
+wel-written Tragedies, | And Sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. |
+Thy learned name is equall with the rest; | Whose stately Numbers are so
+well addrest.']
+
+[Footnote 13: Cf. Meres, _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'Michael Drayton doth
+imitate Ouid in his _England's Heroical Epistles_.']
+
+[Footnote 14: Cf. id., _ibid._, 'As Lucan hath mournefully depainted the
+ciuil wars of Pompey and C�sar: so hath Daniel the ciuill wars of Yorke
+and Lancaster, and Drayton the civill wars of Edward the second and the
+Barons.']
+
+[Footnote 15: Cf. Elegy viij. 126-8.]
+
+[Footnote 16: Cf. Morley's ed., _Barons' Wars_, &c., 1887, pp. 6-7.]
+
+[Footnote 17: Cf. Elron, pp. 83-93, and Whitaker, _M. Drayton as a
+Dramatist_ (Public. Mod. Lang. Assoc. of America, vol. xviij. 3).]
+
+[Footnote 18: Cf. _Nl._ ij. 127 sqq., p. 172.]
+
+[Footnote 19: Cf. Elegy ij. 20.]
+
+[Footnote 20: Cf. _Palladis Tamia_: 'Michael Drayton is now in penning,
+in English verse, a Poem called _Poly-olbion_, Geographicall &
+Hydrographicall of all the forests, woods, mountaines, fountaines,
+riuers, lakes, flouds, bathes, & springs that be in England.']
+
+[Footnote 21: Cf. _Amours_ (1594), xx and xxiv.]
+
+[Footnote 22: Cf. Sonnet vj (1619 edition); which is a dignified summary
+of much that he says more coarsely in the _Moone-Calfe_.]
+
+[Footnote 23: Cf. Morley's ed. _Barons' Wars, &c._, p. 8.]
+
+[Footnote 24: Charles FitzGeoffrey, _Drake_ (1596), 'golden-mouthed
+Drayton musical.' Guilpin, _Skialetheia_ (1598), 'Drayton's condemned of
+some for imitation, But others say, 'tis the best poet's fashion ...
+Drayton's justly surnam'd golden-mouth'd.' Meres, _Palladis Tamia_
+(1598),' In Charles Fitz-Jefferies _Drake_ Drayton is termed
+"golden-mouth'd" for the purity and pretiousnesse of his stile and
+phrase.']
+
+[Footnote 25: Cf. _E. H. E._, pp. 90, 99 (ed. 1737); Elegy i; and _Ode
+written in the Peak_.]
+
+[Footnote 26: Elegy viij, ad init.]
+
+[Footnote 27: _Palladis Tamia_ (1598).]
+
+[Footnote 28: Cf. _Returne from Parnassus_, i. 2 (1600) ed. Arb. p. 11.]
+
+[Footnote 29: _Michael Drayton. A Critical Study_. Oliver Elton, M.A.
+London: A. Constable & Co., 1905.]
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS
+
+[from the Edition of 1594]
+
+To the deere Chyld of the Muses, and
+ _his euer kind_ Mec�nas, _Ma._ Anthony
+          Cooke, Esquire
+
+
+    Vovchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rymes,
+    Which long (dear friend) haue slept in sable night,
+    And, come abroad now in these glorious tymes,
+    Can hardly brook the purenes of the light.
+    But still you see their desteny is such,
+    That in the world theyr fortune they must try,
+    Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch,
+    Wearing your name, theyr gracious liuery.
+    Yet these mine owne: I wrong not other men,
+    Nor trafique further then thys happy Clyme,
+    Nor filch from _Portes_, nor from _Petrarchs_ pen,
+    A fault too common in this latter time.
+      Diuine Syr Phillip, I auouch thy writ,
+      I am no Pickpurse of anothers wit.
+                          Yours deuoted,
+                              M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Amour 1
+
+    Reade heere (sweet Mayd) the story of my wo,
+    The drery abstracts of my endles cares,
+    With my liues sorow enterlyned so;
+    Smok'd with my sighes, and blotted with my teares:
+    The sad memorials of my miseries,
+    Pend in the griefe of myne afflicted ghost;
+    My liues complaint in doleful Elegies,
+    With so pure loue as tyme could neuer boast.
+    Receaue the incense which I offer heere,
+    By my strong fayth ascending to thy fame,
+    My zeale, my hope, my vowes, my praise, my prayer,
+    My soules oblation to thy sacred name:
+      Which name my Muse to highest heauen shal raise
+      By chast desire, true loue, and vertues praise.
+
+
+Amour 2
+
+    My fayre, if thou wilt register my loue,
+    More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise;
+    Preserue my teares, and thou thy selfe shall proue
+    A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes.
+    Note but my sighes, and thine eyes shal behold
+    The Sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke;
+    And if by thee, my prayers may be enrold,
+    They heauen and earth to pitty shall prouoke.
+    Looke thou into my breast, and thou shall see
+    Chaste holy vowes for my soules sacrifice:
+    That soule (sweet Maide) which so hath honoured thee,
+    Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes;
+      Those eyes to my heart shining euer bright,
+      When darknes hath obscur'd each other light.
+
+
+Amour 3
+
+    My thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue,
+    And, for their vertues I desiered to know,
+    Vpon the nest I set them forth, to proue
+    If they were of the Eagles kinde or no:
+    But they no sooner saw my Sunne appeare,
+    But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood;
+    Which proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre,
+    And that they came of this rare kinglie brood.
+    But now their plumes, full sumd with sweet desire,
+    To shew their kinde began to clime the skies:
+    Doe what I could my Eaglets would aspire,
+    Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes.
+      And thus (my faire) my thoughts away be flowne,
+      And from my breast into thine eyes be gone.
+
+
+Amour 4
+
+    My faire, had I not erst adorned my Lute
+    With those sweet strings stolne from thy golden hayre,
+    Vnto the world had all my ioyes been mute,
+    Nor had I learn'd to descant on my faire.
+    Had not mine eye seene thy Celestiall eye,
+    Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name,
+    My soule had ne'er felt thy Diuinitie,
+    Nor my Muse been the trumpet of thy fame.
+    But thy diuine perfections, by their skill,
+    This miracle on my poore Muse haue tried,
+    And, by inspiring, glorifide my quill,
+    And in my verse thy selfe art deified:
+      Thus from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued,
+      That by thy fame all fame shall be suruiued.
+
+
+Amour 5
+
+    Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected,
+    The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite;
+    No Virgin once attending on that light,
+    Nor yet those heauenly secrets once respected;
+    Till thou alone, to pay the heauens their dutie
+    Within the Temple of thy sacred name,
+    With thine eyes kindling that Celestiall flame,
+    By those reflecting Sun-beames of thy beautie.
+    Here Chastity that Vestall most diuine,
+    Attends that Lampe with eye which neuer sleepeth;
+    The volumes of Religions lawes shee keepeth,
+    Making thy breast that sacred reliques shryne,
+      Where blessed Angels, singing day and night,
+      Praise him which made that fire, which lends that light.
+
+
+Amour 6
+
+    In one whole world is but one Phoenix found,
+    A Phoenix thou, this Phoenix then alone:
+    By thy rare plume thy kind is easly knowne,
+    With heauenly colours dide, with natures wonder cround.
+    Heape thine own vertues, seasoned by their sunne,
+    On heauenly top of thy diuine desire;
+    Then with thy beautie set the same on fire,
+    So by thy death thy life shall be begunne.
+    Thy selfe, thus burned in this sacred flame,
+    With thine owne sweetnes al the heauens perfuming,
+    And stil increasing as thou art consuming,
+    Shalt spring againe from th' ashes of thy fame;
+      And mounting vp shall to the heauens ascend:
+      So maist thou liue, past world, past fame, past end.
+
+
+Amour 7
+
+    Stay, stay, sweet Time; behold, or ere thou passe
+    From world to world, thou long hast sought to see,
+    That wonder now wherein all wonders be,
+    Where heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse.
+    Nay, looke thee, Time, in this Celesteall glasse,
+    And thy youth past in this faire mirror see:
+    Behold worlds Beautie in her infancie,
+    What shee was then, and thou, or ere shee was.
+    Now passe on, Time: to after-worlds tell this,
+    Tell truelie, Time, what in thy time hath beene,
+    That they may tel more worlds what Time hath seene,
+    And heauen may ioy to think on past worlds blisse.
+      Heere make a Period, Time, and saie for mee,
+      She was the like that neuer was, nor neuer more shalbe.
+
+
+Amour 8
+
+    Vnto the World, to Learning, and to Heauen,
+    Three nines there are, to euerie one a nine;
+    One number of the earth, the other both diuine,
+    One wonder woman now makes three od numbers euen.
+    Nine orders, first, of Angels be in heauen;
+    Nine Muses doe with learning still frequent:
+    These with the Gods are euer resident.
+    Nine worthy men vnto the world were giuen.
+    My Worthie one to these nine Worthies addeth,
+    And my faire Muse one Muse vnto the nine;
+    And my good Angell, in my soule diuine,
+    With one more order these nine orders gladdeth.
+      My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angell, then,
+      Makes euery one of these three nines a ten.
+
+
+Amour 9
+
+    Beauty sometime, in all her glory crowned,
+    Passing by that cleere fountain of thine eye,
+    Her sun-shine face there chaunsing to espy,
+    Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.
+    And thus, whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed,
+    Who then, yet liuing, deemd she had been dying,
+    And yet in death some hope of life espying,
+    At her owne rare perfections so amazed;
+    Twixt ioy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning,
+    The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining,
+    And shee, in her owne destiny diuining,
+    Threw in herselfe, to saue herselfe by drowning;
+      The Well of Nectar, pau'd with pearle and gold,
+      Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.
+
+
+Amour 10
+
+    Oft taking pen in hand, with words to cast my woes,
+    Beginning to account the sum of all my cares,
+    I well perceiue my griefe innumerable growes,
+    And still in reckonings rise more millions of dispayres.
+    And thus, deuiding of my fatall howres,
+    The payments of my loue I read, and reading crosse,
+    And in substracting set my sweets vnto my sowres;
+    Th' average of my ioyes directs me to my losse.
+    And thus mine eyes, a debtor to thine eye,
+    Who by extortion gaineth all theyr lookes,
+    My hart hath payd such grieuous vsury,
+    That all her wealth lyes in thy Beauties bookes;
+      And all is thine which hath been due to mee,
+      And I a Banckrupt, quite vndone by thee.
+
+
+Amour 11
+
+    Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue,
+    To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell;
+    For I was apt, a scholler like to proue,
+    Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.
+    Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun
+    At my first Lesson in thy sacred name:
+    My consonants the next when I had done,
+    Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.
+    My liquids then were liquid christall teares,
+    My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe;
+    My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires,
+    Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe:
+      My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so,
+      That I can read a story of my woe.
+
+
+Amour 12
+
+    Some Atheist or vile Infidell in loue,
+    When I doe speake of thy diuinitie,
+    May blaspheme thus, and say I flatter thee,
+    And onely write my skill in verse to proue.
+    See myracles, ye vnbeleeuing! see
+    A dumbe-born Muse made to expresse the mind,
+    A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind,
+    One by thy name, the other touching thee.
+    Blind were mine eyes, till they were seene of thine,
+    And mine eares deafe by thy fame healed be;
+    My vices cur'd by vertues sprung from thee,
+    My hopes reuiu'd, which long in graue had lyne:
+      All vncleane thoughts, foule spirits, cast out in mee
+      By thy great power, and by strong fayth in thee.
+
+
+Amour 13
+
+    Cleere _Ankor_, on whose siluer-sanded shore
+    My soule-shrinde Saint, my faire _Idea_, lyes;
+    O blessed Brooke! whose milk-white Swans adore
+    The christall streame refined by her eyes:
+    Where sweet Myrh-breathing _Zephyre_ in the spring
+    Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers;
+    Where Nightingales in _Arden_ sit and sing
+    Amongst those dainty dew-empearled flowers.
+    Say thus, fayre Brooke, when thou shall see thy Queene:
+    Loe! heere thy Shepheard spent his wandring yeeres,
+    And in these shades (deer Nimphe) he oft hath been,
+    And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares.
+      Fayre _Arden_, thou my _Tempe_ art alone,
+      And thou, sweet _Ankor_, art my _Helicon_.
+
+
+Amour 14
+
+    Looking into the glasse of my youths miseries,
+    I see the ugly face of my deformed cares,
+    With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires,
+    That for my mis-spent youth the tears fel from my eyes.
+    Then, in these teares, the mirror of these eyes,
+    Thy fayrest youth and Beautie doe I see
+    Imprinted in my teares by looking still on thee:
+    Thus midst a thousand woes ten thousand joyes arise.
+    Yet in those joyes, the shadowes of my good,
+    In this fayre limned ground as white as snow,
+    Paynted the blackest Image of my woe,
+    With murthering hands imbru'd in mine own blood:
+      And in this Image his darke clowdy eyes,
+      My life, my youth, my loue, I heere Anotamize.
+
+
+Amour 15
+
+    Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror,
+    Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee;
+    And but appoint me for her Tormentor,
+    Then for a Monarch will I honour thee.
+    My hart shall be the prison for my fayre;
+    Ile fetter her in chaines of purest loue,
+    My sighs shall stop the passage of the ayre:
+    This punishment the pittilesse may moue.
+    With teares out of the Channels of mine eyes
+    She'st quench her thirst as duly as they fall:
+    Kinde words vnkindest meate I can deuise,
+    My sweet, my faire, my good, my best of all.
+    Ile binde her then with my torne-tressed haire,
+    And racke her with a thousand holy wishes;
+    Then, on a place prepared for her there,
+    Ile execute her with a thousand kisses.
+      Thus will I crucifie, my cruell shee;
+      Thus Ile plague her which hath so plagued mee.
+
+
+Amour 16
+
+    Vertues _Idea_ in virginitie,
+    By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought:
+    The time is come deliuered she must be,
+    Where first my loue into the world was brought.
+    Vnhappy borne, of all vnhappy day!
+    So luckles was my Babes nativity,
+    _Saturne_ chiefe Lord of the Ascendant lay,
+    The wandring Moone in earths triplicitie.
+    Now, or by chaunce or heauens hie prouidence,
+    His Mother died, and by her Legacie
+    (Fearing the stars presaging influence)
+    Bequeath'd his wardship to my soueraignes eye;
+    Where hunger-staruen, wanting lookes to liue,
+    Still empty gorg'd, with cares consumption pynde,
+    Salt luke-warm teares shee for his drink did giue,
+    And euer-more with sighes he supt and dynde:
+      And thus (poore Orphan) lying in distresse
+      Cryes in his pangs, God helpe the motherlesse.
+
+
+Amour 17
+
+    If euer wonder could report a wonder,
+    Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought,
+    Or euer ioy expresse what perfect ioy hath taught,
+    Then wonder, tongue, then ioy, might wel report a wonder.
+    Could all conceite conclude, which past conceit admireth,
+    Or could mine eye but ayme her obiects past perfection,
+    My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction,
+    And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.
+    Were not Inuention stauld, treading Inuentions maze,
+    Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying;
+    Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze,
+    Whilst Loue (my Phoenix bird) in her owne flame is dying,
+      Inuention and my Muse, perfection and her loue,
+      Should teach the world to know the wonder that I proue.
+
+
+Amour 18
+
+    Some, when in ryme they of their Loues doe tell,
+    With flames and lightning their exordiums paynt:
+    Some inuocate the Gods, some spirits of Hell,
+    And heauen, and earth doe with their woes acquaint.
+    _Elizia_ is too hie a seate for mee:
+    I wyll not come in _Stixe_ or _Phlegiton_;
+    The Muses nice, the Furies cruell be,
+    I lyke not _Limbo_, nor blacke _Acheron_,
+    Spightful _Erinnis_ frights mee with her lookes,
+    My manhood dares not with foule _Ate_ mell:
+    I quake to looke on _Hecats_ charming bookes,
+    I styll feare bugbeares in _Apollos_ cell.
+      I passe not for _Minerua_ nor _Astr�a_.
+      But euer call vpon diuine _Idea_.
+
+
+Amour 19
+
+    If those ten Regions, registred by Fame,
+    By theyr ten Sibils haue the world controld,
+    Who prophecied of Christ or ere he came,
+    And of his blessed birth before fore-told;
+    That man-god now, of whom they did diuine,
+    This earth of those sweet Prophets hath bereft,
+    And since the world to iudgement doth declyne,
+    Instead of ten, one Sibil to vs left.
+    Thys pure _Idea_, vertues right Idea,
+    Shee of whom _Merlin_ long tyme did fore-tell,
+    Excelling her of _Delphos_ or _Cum�a_,
+    Whose lyfe doth saue a thousand soules from hell:
+      That life (I meane) which doth Religion teach,
+      And by example true repentance preach.
+
+
+Amour 20
+
+    Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile,
+    I find old Poets hylls and floods admire:
+    One, he doth wonder monster-breeding _Nyle_,
+    Another meruailes Sulphure _Aetnas_ fire.
+    Now broad-brymd _Indus_, then of _Pindus_ height,
+    _Pelion_ and _Ossa_, frosty _Caucase_ old,
+    The Delian _Cynthus_, then _Olympus_ weight,
+    Slow _Arrer_, franticke _Gallus_, _Cydnus_ cold.
+    Some _Ganges_, _Ister_, and of _Tagus_ tell,
+    Some whir-poole _Po_, and slyding _Hypasis_;
+    Some old _Pernassus_ where the Muses dwell,
+    Some _Helycon_, and some faire _Simois_:
+      A, fooles! thinke I, had you _Idea_ seene,
+      Poore Brookes and Banks had no such wonders beene.
+
+
+Amour 21
+
+    Letters and lynes, we see, are soone defaced,
+    Mettles doe waste and fret with cankers rust;
+    The Diamond shall once consume to dust,
+    And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.
+    Paper and yncke can paynt but naked words,
+    To write with blood of force offends the sight,
+    And if with teares, I find them all too light;
+    And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.
+    O, sweetest shadow! how thou seru'st my turne,
+    Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne,
+    Nor whilst the world is neuer shall be done,
+    Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne:
+      That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede,
+      May in his shadow my Loues story reade.
+
+
+Amour 22
+
+    My hart, imprisoned in a hopeless Ile,
+    Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes,
+    The shores beset with thousand secret spyes,
+    Must passe by ayre, or else dye in exile.
+    He framd him wings with feathers of his thought,
+    Which by theyr nature learn'd to mount the skye;
+    And with the same he practised to flye,
+    Till he himself thys Eagles art had taught.
+    Thus soring still, not looking once below,
+    So neere thyne eyes celesteall sunne aspyred,
+    That with the rayes his wafting pyneons fired:
+    Thus was the wanton cause of his owne woe.
+      Downe fell he, in thy Beauties Ocean drenched,
+      Yet there he burnes in fire thats neuer quenched.
+
+
+Amour 23
+
+    Wonder of Heauen, glasse of diuinitie,
+    Rare beautie, Natures joy, perfections Mother,
+    The worke of that vnited Trinitie,
+    Wherein each fayrest part excelleth other!
+    Loues Mithridate, the purest of perfection,
+    Celestiall Image, Load-stone of desire,
+    The soules delight, the sences true direction,
+    Sunne of the world, thou hart reuyuing fire!
+    Why should'st thou place thy Trophies in those eyes,
+    Which scorne the honor that is done to thee,
+    Or make my pen her name immortalize,
+    Who in her pride sdaynes once to look on me?
+      It is thy heauen within her face to dwell,
+      And in thy heauen, there onely, is my hell.
+
+
+Amour 24
+
+    Our floods-Queene, _Thames_, for shyps and Swans is crowned,
+    And stately _Seuerne_ for her shores is praised,
+    The christall _Trent_ for Foords and fishe renowned,
+    And _Auons_ fame to _Albyons_ Cliues is raysed.
+    _Carlegion Chester_ vaunts her holy _Dee_,
+    _Yorke_ many wonders of her _Ouse_ can tell,
+    The _Peake_ her _Doue_, whose bancks so fertill bee,
+    And _Kent_ will say her _Medway_ doth excell.
+    Cotswoold commends her _Isis_ and her _Tame_,
+    Our Northern borders boast of _Tweeds_ faire flood;
+    Our Westerne parts extoll theyr Wilys fame,
+    And old _Legea_ brags of _Danish_ blood:
+      _Ardens_ sweet _Ankor_, let thy glory be
+      That fayre _Idea_ shee doth liue by thee.
+
+
+Amour 25
+
+    The glorious sunne went blushing to his bed,
+    When my soules sunne, from her fayre Cabynet,
+    Her golden beames had now discouered,
+    Lightning the world, eclipsed by his set.
+    Some muz'd to see the earth enuy the ayre,
+    Which from her lyps exhald refined sweet,
+    A world to see, yet how he ioyd to heare
+    The dainty grasse make musicke with her feete.
+    But my most meruaile was when from the skyes,
+    So Comet-like, each starre aduanc'd her lyght,
+    As though the heauen had now awak'd her eyes,
+    And summond Angels to this blessed sight.
+      No clowde was seene, but christalline the ayre,
+      Laughing for ioy upon my louely fayre.
+
+
+Amour 26
+
+    Cupid, dumbe-Idoll, peeuish Saint of loue,
+    No more shalt thou nor Saint nor Idoll be;
+    No God art thou, a Goddesse shee doth proue,
+    Of all thine honour shee hath robbed thee.
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings
+    Of purest gold, tempred with vertues fire,
+    The least able to kyll an hoste of Kings.
+    Thy shafts be spent, and shee (to warre appointed)
+    Hydes in those christall quiuers of her eyes
+    More Arrowes, with hart-piercing mettel poynted,
+    Then there be starres at midnight in the skyes.
+      With these she steales mens harts for her reliefe,
+      Yet happy he thats robd of such a thiefe!
+
+
+Amour 27
+
+    My Loue makes hote the fire whose heat is spent,
+    The water moisture from my teares deriueth,
+    And my strong sighes the ayres weake force reuiueth:
+    Thus loue, tears, sighes, maintaine each one his element.
+    The fire, vnto my loue, compare a painted fire,
+    The water, to my teares as drops to Oceans be,
+    The ayre, vnto my sighes as Eagle to the flie,
+    The passions of dispaire but ioyes to my desire.
+    Onely my loue is in the fire ingraued,
+    Onely my teares by Oceans may be gessed,
+    Onely my sighes are by the ayre expressed;
+    Yet fire, water, ayre, of nature not depriued.
+      Whilst fire, water, ayre, twixt heauen and earth shal be,
+      My loue, my teares, my sighes, extinguisht cannot be.
+
+
+Amour 28
+
+    Some wits there be which lyke my method well,
+    And say my verse runnes in a lofty vayne;
+    Some say, I haue a passing pleasing straine,
+    Some say that in my humour I excell.
+    Some who reach not the height of my conceite,
+    They say, (as Poets doe) I vse to fayne,
+    And in bare words paynt out my passions payne:
+    Thus sundry men their sundry minds repeate.
+    I passe not I how men affected be,
+    Nor who commend, or discommend my verse;
+    It pleaseth me if I my plaints rehearse,
+    And in my lynes if shee my loue may see.
+      I proue my verse autentique still in thys,
+      Who writes my Mistres praise can neuer write amisse.
+
+
+Amour 29
+
+    O eyes! behold your happy _Hesperus_,
+    That luckie Load-starre of eternall light,
+    Left as that sunne alone to comfort vs,
+    When our worlds sunne is vanisht out of sight.
+    O starre of starres! fayre Planet mildly moouing,
+    O Lampe of vertue! sun-bright, euer shyning,
+    O mine eyes Comet! so admyr'd by louing,
+    O cleerest day-starre! neuer more declyning.
+    O our worlds wonder! crowne of heauen aboue,
+    Thrice happy be those eyes which may behold thee!
+    Lou'd more then life, yet onely art his loue
+    Whose glorious hand immortal hath enrold thee!
+      O blessed fayre! now vaile those heauenly eyes,
+      That I may blesse mee at thy sweet arise.
+
+
+Amour 30
+
+    Three sorts of serpents doe resemble thee;
+    That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
+    Th' inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
+    The weeping Crocodile; these vile pernicious three.
+    The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,
+    Who for my life in secret wait do'st lye,
+    And to my heart send'st poyson from thine eye:
+    Thus do I feele the paine, the cause yet cannot see.
+    Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,
+    Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
+    Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
+    And, like a Tyrant, mak'st my griefe thy game.
+      The Crocodile, who, when thou hast me slaine,
+      Lament'st my death with teares of thy disdaine.
+
+
+Amour 31
+
+    Sitting alone, loue bids me goe and write;
+    Reason plucks backe, commaunding me to stay,
+    Boasting that shee doth still direct the way,
+    Els senceles loue could neuer once indite.
+    Loue, growing angry, vexed at the spleene,
+    And scorning Reasons maymed Argument,
+    Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent
+    Where shee with Loue conuersing hath not beene.
+    Reason, reproched with this coy disdaine,
+    Dispighteth Loue, and laugheth at her folly,
+    And Loue, contemning Reasons reason wholy,
+    Thought her in weight too light by many a graine.
+      Reason, put back, doth out of sight remoue,
+      And Loue alone finds reason in my loue.
+
+
+Amour 32
+
+    Those teares, which quench my hope, still kindle my desire,
+    Those sighes, which coole my hart, are coles vnto my loue,
+    Disdayne, Ice to my life, is to my soule a fire:
+    With teares, sighes, and disdaine, this contrary I proue.
+    Quenchles desire makes hope burne, dryes my teares,
+    Loue heats my hart, my hart-heat my sighes warmeth;
+    With my soules fire my life disdaine out-weares,
+    Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, hart, and life charmeth.
+    My hope becomes a friend to my desire,
+    My hart imbraceth Loue, Loue doth imbrace my hart;
+    My life a Phoenix is in my soules fire,
+    From thence (they vow) they neuer will depart.
+      Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, my hart, my life,
+      With teares, sighes, and disdaine, shall haue immortal strife.
+
+
+Amour 33
+
+    Whilst thus mine eyes doe surfet with delight,
+    My wofull hart, imprisond in my breast,
+    Wishing to be trans-formd into my sight,
+    To looke on her by whom mine eyes are blest;
+    But whilst mine eyes thus greedily doe gaze,
+    Behold! their obiects ouer-soone depart,
+    And treading in this neuer-ending maze,
+    Wish now to be trans-formd into my hart:
+    My hart, surcharg'd with thoughts, sighes in abundance raise,
+    My eyes, made dim with lookes, poure down a flood of tears;
+    And whilst my hart and eye enuy each others praise,
+    My dying lookes and thoughts are peiz'd in equall feares:
+      And thus, whilst sighes and teares together doe contende,
+      Each one of these doth ayde vnto the other lende.
+
+
+Amour 34
+
+    My fayre, looke from those turrets of thine eyes,
+    Into the Ocean of a troubled minde,
+    Where my poor soule, the Barke of sorrow, lyes,
+    Left to the mercy of the waues and winde.
+    See where she flotes, laden with purest loue,
+    Which those fayre Ilands of thy lookes affoord,
+    Desiring yet a thousand deaths to proue,
+    Then so to cast her Ballase ouerboard.
+    See how her sayles be rent, her tacklings worne,
+    Her Cable broke, her surest Anchor lost:
+    Her Marryners doe leaue her all forlorne,
+    Yet how shee bends towards that blessed Coast!
+      Loe! where she drownes in stormes of thy displeasure,
+      Whose worthy prize should haue enricht thy treasure.
+
+
+Amour 35
+
+    See, chaste _Diana_, where my harmles hart,
+    Rouz'd from my breast, his sure and safest layre,
+    Nor chaste by hound, nor forc'd by Hunters arte,
+    Yet see how right he comes vnto my fayre.
+    See how my Deere comes to thy Beauties stand,
+    And there stands gazing on those darting eyes,
+    Whilst from theyr rayes, by _Cupids_ skilfull hand,
+    Into his hart the piercing Arrow flyes.
+    See how he lookes vpon his bleeding wound,
+    Whilst thus he panteth for his latest breath,
+    And, looking on thee, falls vpon the ground,
+    Smyling, as though he gloried in his death.
+      And wallowing in his blood, some lyfe yet laft;
+      His stone-cold lips doth kisse the blessed shaft.
+
+
+Amour 36
+
+    Sweete, sleepe so arm'd with Beauties arrowes darting,
+    Sleepe in thy Beauty, Beauty in sleepe appeareth;
+    Sleepe lightning Beauty, Beauty sleepes, darknes cleereth,
+    Sleepes wonder Beauty, wonders to worlds imparting.
+    Sleep watching Beauty, Beauty waking, sleepe guarding
+    Beauty in sleepe, sleepe in Beauty charmed,
+    Sleepes aged coldnes with Beauties fire warmed,
+    Sleepe with delight, Beauty with loue rewarding.
+    Sleepe and Beauty, with equall forces stryuing,
+    Beauty her strength vnto sleepes weaknes lending,
+    Sleepe with Beauty, Beauty with sleepe contending,
+    Yet others force the others force reuiuing,
+      And others foe the others foe imbrace.
+      Myne eyes beheld thys conflict in thy face.
+
+
+Amour 37
+
+    I euer loue where neuer hope appeares,
+    Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care,
+    And my liues hope would die but for dyspaire;
+    My neuer certaine ioy breeds euer-certaine feares.
+    Vncertaine dread gyues wings vnto my hope,
+    Yet my hopes wings are loden so with feare,
+    As they cannot ascend to my hopes spheare,
+    Yet feare gyues them more then a heauenly scope.
+    Yet this large roome is bounded with dyspaire,
+    So my loue is still fettered with vaine hope,
+    And lyberty depriues him of hys scope,
+    And thus am I imprisond in the ayre:
+      Then, sweet Dispaire, awhile hold vp thy head,
+      Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.
+
+
+Amour 38
+
+    If chaste and pure deuotion of my youth,
+    Or glorie of my Aprill-springing yeeres,
+    Vnfained loue in naked simple truth,
+    A thousand vowes, a thousand sighes and teares;
+    Or if a world of faithful seruice done,
+    Words, thoughts, and deeds deuoted to her honor,
+    Or eyes that haue beheld her as theyr sunne,
+    With admiration euer looking on her:
+    A lyfe that neuer ioyd but in her loue,
+    A soule that euer hath ador'd her name,
+    A fayth that time nor fortune could not moue,
+    A Muse that vnto heauen hath raised her fame.
+      Though these, nor these deserue to be imbraced,
+      Yet, faire vnkinde, too good to be disgraced.
+
+
+Amour 39
+
+    Die, die, my soule, and neuer taste of ioy,
+    If sighes, nor teares, nor vowes, nor prayers can moue;
+    If fayth and zeale be but esteemd a toy,
+    And kindnes be vnkindnes in my loue.
+    Then, with vnkindnes, Loue, reuenge thy wrong:
+    O sweet'st reuenge that ere the heauens gaue!
+    And with the swan record thy dying song,
+    And praise her still to thy vntimely graue.
+    So in loues death shall loues perfection proue
+    That loue diuine which I haue borne to you,
+    By doome concealed to the heauens aboue,
+    That yet the world vnworthy neuer knew;
+      Whose pure _Idea_ neuer tongue exprest:
+      I feele, you know, the heauens can tell the rest.
+
+
+Amour 40
+
+    O thou vnkindest fayre! most fayrest shee,
+    In thine eyes tryumph murthering my poore hart,
+    Now doe I sweare by heauens, before we part,
+    My halfe-slaine hart shall take reuenge on thee.
+    Thy mother dyd her lyfe to death resigne,
+    And thou an Angell art, and from aboue;
+    Thy father was a man, that will I proue,
+    Yet thou a Goddesse art, and so diuine.
+    And thus, if thou be not of humaine kinde,
+    A Bastard on both sides needes must thou be;
+    Our Lawes allow no land to basterdy:
+    By natures Lawes we thee a bastard finde.
+      Then hence to heauen, vnkind, for thy childs part:
+      Goe bastard goe, for sure of thence thou art.
+
+
+Amour 41
+
+    Rare of-spring of my thoughts, my dearest Loue,
+    Begot by fancy on sweet hope exhortiue,
+    In whom all purenes with perfection stroue,
+    Hurt in the Embryon makes my ioyes abhortiue.
+    And you, my sighes, Symtomas of my woe,
+    The dolefull Anthems of my endelesse care,
+    Lyke idle Ecchoes euer answering; so,
+    The mournfull accents of my loues dispayre.
+    And thou, Conceite, the shadow of my blisse,
+    Declyning with the setting of my sunne,
+    Springing with that, and fading straight with this,
+    Now hast thou end, and now thou wast begun:
+      Now was thy pryme, and loe! is now thy waine;
+      Now wast thou borne, now in thy cradle slayne.
+
+
+Amour 42
+
+    Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre
+    Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies,
+    Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare,
+    Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes.
+    Wounded with Arrowes from thy lightning eyes,
+    My tongue in payne my harts counsels bewraying,
+    My rebell thought for me in Ambushe lyes,
+    To my lyues foe her Chieftaine still betraying.
+    Record my loue in Ocean waues (vnkind)
+    Cast my desarts into the open ayre,
+    Commit my words vnto the fleeting wind,
+    Cancell my name, and blot it with dispayre;
+      So shall I bee as I had neuer beene,
+      Nor my disgraces to the world be seene.
+
+
+Amour 43
+
+    Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue,
+    When my hart is the very Den of horror,
+    And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue,
+    With all his torments and infernall terror?
+    Myne eyes want teares thus to bewayle my woe,
+    My brayne is dry with weeping all too long;
+    My sighes be spent with griefe and sighing so,
+    And I want words for to expresse my wrong.
+    But still, distracted in loues lunacy,
+    And Bedlam like thus rauing in my griefe,
+    Now rayle vpon her hayre, now on her eye,
+    Now call her Goddesse, then I call her thiefe;
+      Now I deny her, then I doe confesse her,
+      Now I doe curse her, then againe I blesse her.
+
+
+Amour 44
+
+    My hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate,
+    My words the hammers fashioning my desire,
+    My breast the forge, including all the heate,
+    Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire:
+    My sighes the bellowes which the flame increaseth,
+    Filling mine eares with noise and nightly groning,
+    Toyling with paine my labour neuer ceaseth,
+    In greeuous passions my woes styll bemoning.
+    Myne eyes with teares against the fire stryuing,
+    With scorching gleed my hart to cynders turneth;
+    But with those drops the coles againe reuyuing,
+    Still more and more vnto my torment burneth.
+      With _Sisiphus_ thus doe I role the stone,
+      And turne the wheele with damned _Ixion_.
+
+
+Amour 45
+
+    Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe,
+    The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow,
+    Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so,
+    Still to prolong my long tyme lookt-for morrow?
+    Thou Sable shadow, Image of dispayre,
+    Portraite of hell, the ayres black mourning weed,
+    Recorder of reuenge, remembrancer of care,
+    The shadow and the vaile of euery sinfull deed.
+    Death like to thee, so lyue thou still in death,
+    The graue of ioy, prison of dayes delight.
+    Let heauens withdraw their sweet Ambrozian breath,
+    Nor Moone nor stars lend thee their shining light;
+      For thou alone renew'st that olde desire,
+      Which still torments me in dayes burning fire.
+
+
+Amour 46
+
+    Sweete secrecie, what tongue can tell thy worth?
+    What mortall pen sufficiently can prayse thee?
+    What curious Pensill serues to lim thee forth?
+    What Muse hath power aboue thy height to raise thee?
+    Strong locke of kindnesse, Closet of loues store,
+    Harts Methridate, the soules preseruatiue;
+    O vertue! which all vertues doe adore,
+    Cheefe good, from whom all good things wee deriue.
+    O rare effect! true bond of friendships measure,
+    Conceite of Angels, which all wisdom teachest;
+    O, richest Casket of all heauenly treasure,
+    In secret silence which such wonders preachest.
+      O purest mirror! wherein men may see
+      The liuely Image of Diuinitie.
+
+
+Amour 47
+
+    The golden Sunne vpon his fiery wheeles
+    The horned Ram doth in his course awake,
+    And of iust length our night and day doth make,
+    Flinging the Fishes backward with his heeles:
+    Then to the Tropicke takes his full Careere,
+    Trotting his sun-steeds till the Palfrays sweat,
+    Bayting the Lyon in his furious heat,
+    Till Virgins smyles doe sound his sweet reteere.
+    But my faire Planet, who directs me still,
+    Vnkindly such distemperature doth bring,
+    Makes Summer Winter, Autumne in the Spring,
+    Crossing sweet nature by vnruly will.
+      Such is the sunne who guides my youthfull season,
+      Whose thwarting course depriues the world of reason.
+
+
+Amour 48
+
+    Who list to praise the dayes delicious lyght,
+    Let him compare it to her heauenly eye,
+    The sun-beames to the lustre of her sight;
+    So may the learned like the similie.
+    The mornings Crimson to her lyps alike,
+    The sweet of _Eden_ to her breathes perfume,
+    The fayre _Elizia_ to her fayrer cheeke,
+    Vnto her veynes the onely Phoenix plume.
+    The Angels tresses to her tressed hayre,
+    The _Galixia_ to her more then white.
+    Praysing the fayrest, compare it to my faire,
+    Still naming her in naming all delight.
+      So may he grace all these in her alone,
+      Superlatiue in all comparison.
+
+
+Amour 49
+
+    Define my loue, and tell the ioyes of heauen,
+    Expresse my woes, and shew the paynes of hell;
+    Declare what fate vnlucky starres haue giuen,
+    And aske a world vpon my life to dwell.
+    Make knowne that fayth vnkindnes could not moue;
+    Compare my worth with others base desert:
+    Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue,
+    So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart.
+    Behold the Clowdes which haue eclips'd my sunne,
+    And view the crosses which my course doth let;
+    Tell mee, if euer since the world begunne,
+    So faire a Morning had so foule a set?
+      And, by all meanes, let black vnkindnes proue
+      The patience of so rare, diuine a loue.
+
+
+Amour 50
+
+    When I first ended, then I first began;
+    The more I trauell, further from my rest;
+    Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;
+    Pyned with hunger, rysing from a feast.
+    Mee thinks I flee, yet want I legs to goe,
+    Wise in conceite, in acte a very sot;
+    Rauisht with ioy amidst a hell of woe,
+    What most I seeme, that surest I am not.
+    I build my hopes a world aboue the skye,
+    Yet with a Mole I creepe into the earth:
+    In plenty am I staru'd with penury,
+    And yet I serfet in the greatest dearth.
+      I haue, I want, dispayre, and yet desire,
+      Burn'd in a Sea of Ice, and drown'd amidst a fire.
+
+
+Amour 51
+
+    Goe you, my lynes, Embassadours of loue,
+    With my harts tribute to her conquering eyes,
+    From whence, if you one tear of pitty moue
+    For all my woes, that onely shall suffise.
+    When you _Minerua_ in the sunne behold,
+    At her perfections stand you then and gaze,
+    Where in the compasse of a Marygold,
+    _Meridianis_ sits within a maze.
+    And let Inuention of her beauty vaunt
+    When _Dorus_ sings his sweet Pamelas loue,
+    And tell the Gods, _Mars_ is predominant,
+    Seated with _Sol_, and weares Mineruas gloue:
+      And tell the world, that in the world there is
+      A heauen on earth, on earth no heauen but this.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1599]
+
+
+Sonet 1
+
+    The worlds faire Rose, and _Henries_ frosty fire,
+    Iohns tyrannie; and chast _Matilda's_ wrong,
+    Th'inraged Queene, and furious _Mortimer_,
+    The scourge of Fraunce, and his chast loue I song;
+    Deposed _Richard_, _Isabell_ exil'd,
+    The gallant _Tudor_, and fayre _Katherine_,
+    Duke _Humfrey_, and old _Cobhams_ haplesse child,
+    Couragious _Pole_, and that braue spiritfull Queene;
+    _Edward_, and that delicious London Dame,
+    _Brandon_, and that rich dowager of Fraunce,
+    _Surrey_, with his fayre paragon of fame,
+    _Dudleys_ mishap, and vertuous _Grays_ mischance;
+      Their seuerall loues since I before haue showne,
+      Now giue me leaue at last to sing mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 2
+
+_To the Reader of his Poems_
+
+    Into these loues who but for passion lookes,
+    At this first sight, here let him lay them by,
+    And seeke elsewhere in turning other bookes,
+    Which better may his labour satisfie.
+    No far-fetch'd sigh shall euer wound my brest,
+    Loue from mine eye, a teare shall neuer wring,
+    Nor in ah-mees my whyning Sonets drest,
+    (A Libertine) fantasticklie I sing;
+    My verse is the true image of my mind,
+    Euer in motion, still desiring change,
+    To choyce of all varietie inclin'd,
+    And in all humors sportiuely I range;
+      My actiue Muse is of the worlds right straine,
+      That cannot long one fashion entertaine.
+
+
+Sonet 3
+
+    Many there be excelling in this kind,
+    Whose well trick'd rimes with all inuention swell,
+    Let each commend as best shall like his minde,
+    Some _Sidney_, _Constable_, some _Daniell_.
+    That thus theyr names familiarly I sing,
+    Let none think them disparaged to be,
+    Poore men with reuerence may speake of a King,
+    And so may these be spoken of by mee;
+    My wanton verse nere keepes one certaine stay,
+    But now, at hand; then, seekes inuention far,
+    And with each little motion runnes astray,
+    Wilde, madding, iocond, and irreguler;
+      Like me that lust, my honest merry rimes,
+      Nor care for Criticke, nor regard the times.
+
+
+Sonet 5
+
+    My hart was slaine, and none but you and I,
+    Who should I thinke the murder should commit?
+    Since but your selfe, there was no creature by
+    But onely I, guiltlesse of murth'ring it.
+    It slew it selfe; the verdict on the view
+    Doe quit the dead and me not accessarie;
+    Well, well, I feare it will be prou'd by you,
+    The euidence so great a proofe doth carry.
+    But O, see, see, we need enquire no further,
+    Vpon your lips the scarlet drops are found,
+    And in your eye, the boy that did the murther,
+    Your cheekes yet pale since first they gaue the wound.
+      By this, I see, how euer things be past,
+      Yet heauen will still haue murther out at last.
+
+
+Sonet 8
+
+    Nothing but no and I, and I and no,
+    How falls it out so strangely you reply?
+    I tell yee (Faire) Ile not be aunswered so,
+    With this affirming no, denying I,
+    I say I loue, you slightly aunswer I?
+    I say you loue, you pule me out a no;
+    I say I die, you eccho me with I,
+    Saue me I cry, you sigh me out a no:
+    Must woe and I, haue naught but no and I?
+    No, I am I, If I no more can haue,
+    Aunswer no more, with silence make reply,
+    And let me take my selfe what I doe craue;
+      Let no and I, with I and you be so,
+      Then aunswer no, and I, and I, and no.
+
+
+Sonet 9
+
+    Loue once would daunce within my Mistres eye,
+    And wanting musique fitting for the place,
+    Swore that I should the Instrument supply,
+    And sodainly presents me with her face:
+    Straightwayes my pulse playes liuely in my vaines,
+    My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time,
+    My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours Straynes,
+    My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime,
+    My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare,
+    True diapazon in distincted sound:
+    My panting hart the treble makes the ayre,
+    And descants finely on the musiques ground;
+      Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lye,
+      Whilst the proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye.
+
+
+Sonet 10
+
+    Loue in an humor played the prodigall,
+    And bids my sences to a solemne feast,
+    Yet more to grace the company withall,
+    Inuites my heart to be the chiefest guest;
+    No other drinke would serue this gluttons turne,
+    But precious teares distilling from mine eyne,
+    Which with my sighs this Epicure doth burne,
+    Quaffing carouses in this costly wine,
+    Where, in his cups or'come with foule excesse,
+    Begins to play a swaggering Ruffins part,
+    And at the banquet, in his drunkennes,
+    Slew my deare friend, his kind and truest hart;
+      A gentle warning, friends, thus may you see
+      What 'tis to keepe a drunkard company.
+
+
+Sonet 11
+
+_To the Moone_
+
+    Ph�be looke downe, and here behold in mee,
+    The elements within thy sphere inclosed,
+    How kindly Nature plac'd them vnder thee,
+    And in my world, see how they are disposed;
+    My hope is earth, the lowest, cold and dry,
+    The grosser mother of deepe melancholie,
+    Water my teares, coold with humidity,
+    Wan, flegmatick, inclind by nature wholie;
+    My sighs, the ayre, hote, moyst, ascending hier,
+    Subtile of sanguine, dy'de in my harts dolor,
+    My thoughts, they be the element of fire,
+    Hote, dry, and piercing, still inclind to choller,
+      Thine eye the Orbe vnto all these, from whence,
+      Proceeds th' effects of powerfull influence.
+
+
+Sonet 12
+
+    To nothing fitter can I thee compare,
+    Then to the sonne of some rich penyfather,
+    Who hauing now brought on his end with care,
+    Leaues to his son all he had heap'd together;
+    This newe rich nouice, lauish of his chest,
+    To one man giues, and on another spends,
+    Then here he ryots, yet amongst the rest,
+    Haps to lend some to one true honest friend.
+    Thy gifts thou in obscuritie doost wast,
+    False friends thy kindnes, borne but to deceiue thee,
+    Thy loue, that is on the unworthy plac'd,
+    Time hath thy beauty, which with age will leaue thee;
+      Onely that little which to me was lent,
+      I giue thee back, when all the rest is spent.
+
+
+Sonet 13
+
+    You not alone, when you are still alone,
+    O God from you that I could priuate be,
+    Since you one were, I neuer since was one,
+    Since you in me, my selfe since out of me
+    Transported from my selfe into your beeing
+    Though either distant, present yet to eyther,
+    Senceles with too much ioy, each other seeing,
+    And onely absent when we are together.
+    Giue me my selfe, and take your selfe againe,
+    Deuise some means but how I may forsake you,
+    So much is mine that doth with you remaine,
+    That taking what is mine, with me I take you,
+      You doe bewitch me, O that I could flie
+      From my selfe you, or from your owne selfe I.
+
+
+Sonet 14
+
+_To the Soule_
+
+    That learned Father which so firmly proues
+    The soule of man immortall and diuine,
+    And doth the seuerall offices define,
+    _Anima._ Giues her that name as shee the body moues,
+    _Amor._ Then is she loue imbracing Charitie,
+    _Animus._ Mouing a will in vs, it is the mind,
+    _Mens._ Retayning knowledge, still the same in kind;
+    _Memoria._ As intelectuall it is the memorie,
+    _Ratio._ In judging, Reason onely is her name,
+    _Sensus._ In speedy apprehension it is sence,
+    _Conscientia._ In right or wrong, they call her conscience.
+    _Spiritus._ The spirit, when it to Godward doth inflame.
+      These of the soule the seuerall functions bee,
+      Which my hart lightned by thy loue doth see.
+
+
+Sonet 21
+
+    You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?
+    There was a time, you told me that you would,
+    But now againe you will the same deny,
+    If it might please you, would to God you could;
+    What will you hate? nay, that you will not neither,
+    Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you do,
+    What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?
+    Or will you loue me, and yet hate me to?
+    Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?
+    You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere,
+    I see your craft, now I perceaue your drift,
+    And all this while, I was mistaken there.
+      Your loue and hate is this, I now doe proue you,
+      You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.
+
+
+Sonet 22
+
+    An euill spirit your beauty haunts me still,
+    Where-with (alas) I haue been long possest,
+    Which ceaseth not to tempt me vnto ill,
+    Nor giues me once but one pore minutes rest.
+    In me it speakes, whether I sleepe or wake,
+    And when by meanes to driue it out I try,
+    With greater torments then it me doth take,
+    And tortures me in most extreamity.
+    Before my face, it layes all my dispaires,
+    And hasts me on vnto a suddaine death;
+    Now tempting me, to drown my selfe in teares,
+    And then in sighing to giue vp my breath:
+      Thus am I still prouok'd to euery euill,
+      By this good wicked spirit, sweet Angel deuill.
+
+
+Sonet 23
+
+_To the Spheares_
+
+    Thou which do'st guide this little world of loue,
+    Thy planets mansions heere thou mayst behold,
+    My brow the spheare where _Saturne_ still doth moue,
+    Wrinkled with cares: and withered, dry, and cold;
+    Mine eyes the Orbe where _Iupiter_ doth trace,
+    Which gently smile because they looke on thee,
+    _Mars_ in my swarty visage takes his place,
+    Made leane with loue, where furious conflicts bee.
+    _Sol_ in my breast with his hote scorching flame,
+    And in my hart alone doth _Venus_ raigne:
+    _Mercury_ my hands the Organs of thy fame,
+    And _Luna_ glides in my fantastick braine;
+      The starry heauen thy prayse by me exprest,
+      Thou the first moouer, guiding all the rest.
+
+
+Sonet 24
+
+    Love banish'd heauen, in earth was held in scorne,
+    Wandring abroad in neede and beggery,
+    And wanting friends though of a Goddesse borne,
+    Yet crau'd the almes of such as passed by.
+    I like a man, deuout and charitable;
+    Clothed the naked, lodg'd this wandring guest,
+    With sighs and teares still furnishing his table,
+    With what might make the miserable blest;
+    But this vngratefull for my good desart,
+    Entic'd my thoughts against me to conspire,
+    Who gaue consent to steale away my hart,
+    And set my breast his lodging on a fire:
+      Well, well, my friends, when beggers grow thus bold,
+      No meruaile then though charity grow cold.
+
+
+Sonet 25
+
+    O why should nature nigardly restraine,
+    The Sotherne Nations relish not our tongue,
+    Else should my lines glide on the waues of Rhene,
+    And crowne the Pirens with my liuing song;
+    But bounded thus to Scotland get you forth:
+    Thence take you wing vnto the Orcades,
+    There let my verse get glory in the North,
+    Making my sighs to thawe the frozen seas,
+    And let the Bards within the Irish Ile,
+    To whom my Muse with fiery wings shall passe,
+    Call backe the stifneckd rebels from exile,
+    And molifie the slaughtering Galliglasse:
+      And when my flowing numbers they rehearse,
+      Let Wolues and Bears be charmed with my verse.
+
+
+Sonet 27
+
+    I gaue my faith to Loue, Loue his to mee,
+    That hee and I, sworne brothers should remaine,
+    Thus fayth receiu'd, fayth giuen back againe,
+    Who would imagine bond more sure could be?
+    Loue flies to her, yet holds he my fayth taken,
+    Thus from my vertue raiseth my offence,
+    Making me guilty by mine innocence;
+    And surer bond by beeing so forsaken,
+    He makes her aske what I before had vow'd,
+    Giuing her that, which he had giuen me,
+    I bound by him, and he by her made free,
+    Who euer so hard breach of fayth alow'd?
+      Speake you that should of right and wrong discusse,
+      Was right ere wrong'd, or wrong ere righted thus?
+
+
+Sonet 29
+
+_To the Sences_
+
+    When conquering loue did first my hart assaile,
+    Vnto mine ayde I summond euery sence,
+    Doubting if that proude tyrant should preuaile,
+    My hart should suffer for mine eyes offence;
+    But he with beauty, first corrupted sight,
+    My hearing bryb'd with her tongues harmony,
+    My taste, by her sweet lips drawne with delight,
+    My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie;
+    But when my touching came to play his part,
+    (The King of sences, greater than the rest)
+    That yeelds loue up the keyes vnto my hart,
+    And tells the other how they should be blest;
+      And thus by those of whom I hop'd for ayde,
+      To cruell Loue my soule was first betrayd.
+
+
+Sonet 30
+
+_To the Vestalls_
+
+    Those Priests, which first the Vestall fire begun,
+    Which might be borrowed from no earthly flame,
+    Deuisd a vessell to receiue the sunne,
+    Beeing stedfastly opposed to the same;
+    Where with sweet wood laid curiously by Art,
+    Whereon the sunne might by reflection beate,
+    Receiuing strength from euery secret part,
+    The fuell kindled with celestiall heate.
+    Thy blessed eyes, the sunne which lights this fire,
+    My holy thoughts, they be the Vestall flame,
+    The precious odors be my chast desire,
+    My breast the fuell which includes the same;
+      Thou art my Vesta, thou my Goddesse art,
+      Thy hollowed Temple, onely is my hart.
+
+
+Sonet 31
+
+    Me thinks I see some crooked Mimick ieere
+    And taxe my Muse with this fantastick grace,
+    Turning my papers, asks what haue we heere?
+    Making withall, some filthy anticke face;
+    I feare no censure, nor what thou canst say,
+    Nor shall my spirit one iote of vigor lose,
+    Think'st thou my wit shall keepe the pack-horse way,
+    That euery dudgen low inuention goes?
+    Since Sonnets thus in bundles are imprest,
+    And euery drudge doth dull our satiate eare,
+    Think'st thou my loue, shall in those rags be drest
+    That euery dowdie, euery trull doth weare?
+      Vnto my pitch no common iudgement flies,
+      I scorne all earthlie dung-bred scarabies.
+
+
+Sonet 34
+
+_To Admiration_
+
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought,
+    That knowing more then euer hath beene taught,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Ayming at things exceeding all perfection,
+    To wisedoms selfe, to minister direction,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Though my conceite I farther seeme to bend,
+    Then possibly inuention can extend,
+    And yet am onely staru'd in my desire;
+      If thou wilt wonder, heers the wonder loue,
+      That this to mee doth yet no wonder proue.
+
+
+Sonet 43
+
+    Whilst thus my pen striues to eternize thee,
+    Age rules my lines with wrincles in my face,
+    Where in the Map of all my misery,
+    Is modeld out the world of my disgrace,
+    Whilst in despight of tyrannizing times,
+    _Medea_ like I make thee young againe,
+    Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rimes,
+    And murther'st vertue with thy coy disdaine;
+    And though in youth, my youth vntimely perrish,
+    To keepe thee from obliuion and the graue,
+    Ensuing ages yet my rimes shall cherrish,
+    Where I entomb'd, my better part shall saue;
+      And though this earthly body fade and die
+      My name shall mount vpon eternitie.
+
+
+Sonet 44
+
+    Muses which sadly sit about my chayre,
+    Drownd in the teares extorted by my lines,
+    With heauy sighs whilst thus I breake the ayre,
+    Paynting my passions in these sad dissignes,
+    Since she disdaines to blesse my happy verse,
+    The strong built Trophies to her liuing fame,
+    Euer hence-forth my bosome be your hearse,
+    Wherein the world shal now entombe her name,
+    Enclose my musick you poor sencelesse walls,
+    Sith she is deafe and will not heare my mones,
+    Soften your selues with euery teare that falls,
+    Whilst I like _Orpheus_ sing to trees and stones:
+      Which with my plaints seeme yet with pitty moued,
+      Kinder then she who I so long haue loued.
+
+
+Sonet 45
+
+    Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,
+    And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,
+    I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,
+    Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.
+    But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,
+    Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,
+    Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,
+    Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.
+    Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,
+    And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
+    Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,
+    With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.
+      Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,
+      Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.
+
+
+Sonet 55
+
+    Truce gentle loue, a parly now I craue,
+    Me thinks, 'tis long since first these wars begun,
+    Nor thou nor I, the better yet can haue:
+    Bad is the match where neither party wone.
+    I offer free conditions of faire peace,
+    My hart for hostage, that it shall remaine,
+    Discharge our forces heere, let malice cease,
+    So for my pledge, thou giue me pledge againe.
+    Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne,
+    Still thirsting for subuersion of my state;
+    Doe what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burne,
+    Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate:
+      I send defiance, since if ouerthrowne,
+      Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 56
+
+_A Consonet_
+
+    Eyes with your teares, blind if you bee,
+    Why haue these teares such eyes to see,
+    Poore eyes, if yours teares cannot moue,
+    My teares, eyes, then must mone my loue,
+      Then eyes, since you haue lost your sight,
+      Weepe still, and teares shall lend you light,
+      Till both desolu'd, and both want might.
+    No, no, cleere eyes, you are not blind,
+    But in my teares discerne my mind:
+    Teares be the language which you speake,
+    Which my hart wanting, yet must breake;
+      My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs,
+      And make my sighs to get them tongs,
+      Yet more then this to her belongs.
+
+
+Sonet 57
+
+_To_ Lucie _Countesse of Bedford_
+
+    Great Lady, essence of my chiefest good,
+    Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit,
+    Adorn'd with gifts, enobled by thy blood,
+    Which by discent true vertue do'st inherit:
+    That vertue which no fortune can depriue,
+    Which thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother,
+    Whose royall minds with equall motion striue,
+    Which most in honour shall excell the other;
+    Vnto thy fame my Muse herself shall taske,
+    Which rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers,
+    And but thy selfe, no subject will I aske,
+    Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers.
+      Sweet Lady yet, grace this poore Muse of mine,
+      Whose faith, whose zeale, whose life, whose all is thine.
+
+
+Sonet 58
+
+_To the Lady_ Anne Harington
+
+    Madam, my words cannot expresse my mind,
+    My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you,
+    When your desarts all seuerally I find;
+    In this attempt of me doe claim their due,
+    Your gracious kindnes that doth claime my hart;
+    Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne,
+    Of me your vertues each doe claime a part,
+    And leaue me thus the least part of mine owne.
+    What should commend your modesty and wit,
+    Is by your wit and modesty commended
+    And standeth dumbe, in much admiring it,
+    And where it should begin, it there is ended;
+      Returning this your prayses onely due,
+      And to your selfe say you are onely you.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1602]
+
+
+Sonnet 12
+
+_To Lunacie_
+
+    As other men, so I my selfe doe muse,
+    Why in this sort I wrest Inuention so,
+    And why these giddy metaphors I vse,
+    Leauing the path the greater part doe goe;
+    I will resolue you; I am lunaticke,
+    And euer this in mad men you shall finde,
+    What they last thought on when the braine grew sick,
+    In most distraction keepe that still in minde.
+    Thus talking idely in this bedlam fit,
+    Reason and I, (you must conceiue) are twaine,
+    'Tis nine yeeres, now, since first I lost my wit
+    Beare with me, then, though troubled be my braine;
+      With diet and correction, men distraught,
+      (Not too farre past) may to their wits be brought.
+
+
+Sonnet 17
+
+    If hee from heauen that filch'd that liuing fire,
+    Condemn'd by _Ioue_ to endlesse torment be,
+    I greatly meruaile how you still goe free,
+    That farre beyond _Promethius_ did aspire?
+    The fire he stole, although of heauenly kinde,
+    Which from aboue he craftily did take,
+    Of liueles clods vs liuing men to make,
+    Againe bestow'd in temper of the mind.
+    But you broke in to heauens immortall store,
+    Where vertue, honour, wit, and beautie lay,
+    Which taking thence, you haue escap'd away,
+    Yet stand as free as ere you did before.
+      But old _Promethius_ punish'd for his rape,
+      Thus poore theeues suffer, when the greater scape.
+
+
+Sonnet 25
+
+_To Folly_
+
+    With fooles and children good discretion beares,
+    Then honest people beare with Loue and me,
+    Nor older yet, nor wiser made by yeeres,
+    Amongst the rest of fooles and children be;
+    Loues still a Baby, playes with gaudes and toyes,
+    And like a wanton sports with euery feather,
+    And Idiots still are running after boyes,
+    Then fooles and children fitt'st to goe together;
+    He still as young as when he first was borne,
+    No wiser I, then when as young as he,
+    You that behold vs, laugh vs not to scorne,
+    Giue Nature thanks, you are not such as we;
+      Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play,
+      Some wise in showe, more fooles in deede, then they.
+
+
+Sonnet 27
+
+    I heare some say, this man is not in loue,
+    Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say:
+    Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;
+    O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray,
+    Because I loosely tryfle in this sort,
+    As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile:
+    You now suppose me, all this time in sport,
+    And please your selfe with this conceit the while.
+    You shallow censures; sometime see you not
+    In greatest perills some men pleasant be,
+    Where fame by death is onely to be got,
+    They resolute, so stands the case with me;
+      Where other men, in depth of passion cry,
+      I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die.
+
+
+Sonnet 31
+
+    To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,
+    And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,
+    Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,
+    I thus appose my force of reason wholly,
+    Though I giue more, then well affords my state,
+    In which expense the most suppose me vaine,
+    Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,
+    Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,
+    They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,
+    And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,
+    I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,
+    Whether are these deccaued then, or I?
+      In euery thing I hold this maxim still,
+      The circumstance doth make it good or ill.
+
+
+Sonnet 41
+
+    Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest
+    When now the night doth summon all to sleepe?
+    Me thinks this time becommeth louers best,
+    Night was ordained together friends to keepe.
+    How happy are all other liuing things,
+    Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight,
+    The quiet euening yet together brings,
+    And each returnes vnto his loue at night.
+    O thou that art so curteous vnto all,
+    Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus,
+    That euery creature to his kinde doost call,
+    And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs.
+      Well could I wish it would be euer day,
+      If when night comes you bid me goe away.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+_To Prouerbe_
+
+    As Loue and I, late harbour'd in one Inne,
+    With Prouerbs thus each other intertaine;
+    _In loue there is no lacke, thus I beginne?
+    Faire words makes fooles, replieth he againe?
+    That spares to speake, doth spare to speed (quoth I)
+    As well (saith he) too forward as too slow.
+    Fortune assists the boldest, I replie?
+    A hasty man (quoth he) nere wanted woe.
+    Labour is light, where loue (quoth I) doth pay,
+    (Saith he) light burthens heauy, if farre borne?
+    (Quoth I) the maine lost, cast the by away:
+    You haue spunne a faire thred, he replies in scorne_.
+      And hauing thus a while each other thwarted,
+      Fooles as we met, so fooles againe we parted.
+
+
+Sonnet 63
+
+_To the high and mighty Prince, James, King of Scots_
+
+    Not thy graue Counsells, nor thy Subiects loue,
+    Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie,
+    Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue,
+    Others in vaine doe but historifie,
+    When thine owne glorie from thy selfe doth spring,
+    As though thou did'st, all meaner prayses scorne:
+    Of Kings a Poet, and the Poets King,
+    They Princes, but thou Prophets do'st adorne;
+    Whilst others by their Empires are renown'd,
+    Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne,
+    And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd,
+    But with thy Laurell, thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne;
+      That they whose pens, euen life to Kings doe giue,
+      In thee a King, shall seeke them selues to liue.
+
+
+Sonnet _66_
+
+_To the Lady_ L.S.
+
+    Bright starre of Beauty, on whose eyelids sit,
+    A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces,
+    The Goddesses of memory and wit,
+    Which in due order take their seuerall places,
+    In whose deare bosome, sweet delicious loue,
+    Layes downe his quiuer, that he once did beare,
+    Since he that blessed Paradice did proue,
+    Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there.
+    Let others striue to entertaine with words,
+    My soule is of another temper made;
+    I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords,
+    Deuouring time my faith, shall not inuade:
+      Still let my praise be honoured thus by you,
+      Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1605]
+
+
+Sonnet 43
+
+    Why should your faire eyes with such soueraine grace,
+    Dispearse their raies on euery vulgar spirit,
+    Whilst I in darknes in the selfesame place,
+    Get not one glance to recompence my merit:
+    So doth the plow-man gaze the wandring starre,
+    And onely rests contented with the light,
+    That neuer learnd what constellations are,
+    Beyond the bent of his vnknowing sight.
+    O why should beautie (custome to obey)
+    To their grosse sence applie her selfe so ill?
+    Would God I were as ignorant as they
+    When I am made vnhappy by my skill;
+      Onely compeld on this poore good to boast,
+      Heauens are not kind to them that know them most.
+
+
+Sonnet 46
+
+    Plain-path'd Experience the vnlearneds guide,
+    Her simple followers euidently shewes,
+    Sometime what schoolemen scarcely can decide,
+    Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knowes:
+    In making triall of a murther wrought,
+    If the vile actor of the heinous deede,
+    Neere the dead bodie happily be brought,
+    Oft hath been prou'd the breathlesse coarse will bleed;
+    She comming neere that my poore hart hath slaine,
+    Long since departed, (to the world no more)
+    The auncient wounds no longer can containe,
+    But fall to bleeding as they did before:
+      But what of this? should she to death be led,
+      It furthers iustice, but helpes not the dead.
+
+
+Sonnet 47
+
+    In pride of wit, when high desire of fame
+    Gaue life and courage to my labouring pen,
+    And first the sound and vertue of my name,
+    Won grace and credit in the eares of men:
+    With those the thronged Theaters that presse,
+    I in the circuite for the Lawrell stroue,
+    Where the full praise I freely must confesse,
+    In heate of blood a modest minde might moue:
+    With showts and daps at euerie little pawse,
+    When the prowd round on euerie side hath rung,
+    Sadly I sit vnmou'd with the applawse,
+    As though to me it nothing did belong:
+      No publique glorie vainely I pursue,
+      The praise I striue, is to eternize you.
+
+
+Sonnet 50
+
+    As in some Countries far remote from hence,
+    The wretched creature destined to die,
+    Hauing the iudgement due to his offence,
+    By Surgeons begg'd, their Art on him to trie:
+    Which on the liuing worke without remorce,
+    First make incision on each maistring vaine,
+    Then stanch the bleeding, then transperce the coarse,
+    And with their balmes recure the wounds againe,
+    Then poison and with Phisicke him restore,
+    Not that they feare the hopelesse man to kill,
+    But their experience to encrease the more;
+    Euen so my Mistresse works vpon my ill,
+      By curing me, and killing me each howre,
+      Onely to shew her beauties soueraigne powre.
+
+
+Sonnet 51
+
+    Calling to minde since first my loue begunne,
+    Th' incertaine times oft varying in their course,
+    How things still vnexpectedly haue runne,
+    As please the fates, by their resistlesse force:
+    Lastly, mine eyes amazedly haue scene,
+    _Essex_ great fall, _Tyrone_ his peace to gaine,
+    The quiet end of that long-liuing Queene,
+    This Kings faire entrance, and our peace with Spaine,
+    We and the Dutch at length our selues to seuer.
+    Thus the world doth, and euermore shall reele,
+    Yet to my goddesse am I constant euer;
+    How ere blind fortune turne her giddy wheele:
+      Though heauen and earth proue both to mee vntrue,
+      Yet am I still inuiolate to you.
+
+
+Sonnet 57
+
+    You best discern'd of my interior eies,
+    And yet your graces outwardly diuine,
+    Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,
+    Too riche a relique for so poore a shrine:
+    You in whome Nature chose herselfe to view,
+    When she her owne perfection would admire,
+    Bestowing all her excellence on you;
+    At whose pure eies Loue lights his halowed fire,
+    Euen as a man that in some traunce hath scene,
+    More than his wondring vttrance can vnfolde,
+    That rapt in spirite in better worlds hath beene,
+    So must your praise distractedly be tolde;
+      Most of all short, when I should shew you most,
+      In your perfections altogether lost.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+    In former times, such as had store of coyne,
+    In warres at home, or when for conquests bound,
+    For feare that some their treasures should purloyne,
+    Gaue it to keepe to spirites within the ground;
+    And to attend it, them so strongly tide,
+    Till they return'd, home when they neuer came,
+    Such as by art to get the same haue tride,
+    From the strong spirits by no means get the same,
+    Neerer you come, that further flies away,
+    Striuing to holde it strongly in the deepe:
+    Euen as this spirit, so she alone doth play,
+    With those rich Beauties heauen giues her to keepe:
+      Pitty so left, to coldenes of her blood,
+      Not to auaile her, nor do others good.
+
+
+_To Sir Walter Aston, Knight of the honourable
+        order of the Bath, and my most
+               worthy Patron_
+
+    I will not striue m' inuention to inforce,
+    With needlesse words your eyes to entertaine,
+    T' obserue the formall ordinarie course
+    That euerie one so vulgarly doth faine:
+    Our interchanged and deliberate choise,
+    Is with more firme and true election sorted,
+    Then stands in censure of the common voice.
+    That with light humor fondly is transported:
+    Nor take I patterne of another's praise,
+    Then what my pen may constantly avow.
+    Nor walke more publique nor obscurer waies
+    Then vertue bids, and iudgement will allow;
+      So shall my tone, and best endeuours serue you,
+      And still shall studie, still so to deserue you.
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+1
+
+    Like an aduenturous Sea-farer am I,
+    Who hath some long and dang'rous Voyage beene,
+    And call'd to tell of his Discouerie,
+    How farre he sayl'd, what Countries he had seene,
+    Proceeding from the Port whence he put forth,
+    Shewes by his Compasse, how his Course he steer'd,
+    When East, when West, when South, and when by North,
+    As how the Pole to eu'ry place was rear'd,
+    What Capes he doubled, of what Continent,
+    The Gulphes and Straits, that strangely he had past,
+    Where most becalm'd, wherewith foule Weather spent,
+    And on what Rocks in perill to be cast?
+    Thus in my Loue, Time calls me to relate
+    My tedious Trauels, and oft-varying Fate.
+
+
+6
+
+    How many paltry, foolish, painted things,
+    That now in Coaches trouble eu'ry Street,
+    Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,
+    Ere they be well wrap'd in their winding Sheet?
+    Where I to thee Eternitie shall giue,
+    When nothing else remayneth of these dayes,
+    And Queenes hereafter shall be glad to liue
+    Vpon the Almes of thy superfluous prayse;
+    Virgins and Matrons reading these my Rimes,
+    Shall be so much delighted with thy story,
+    That they shall grieve, they liu'd not in these Times,
+    To haue seene thee, their Sexes onely glory:
+      So shalt thou flye aboue the vulgar Throng,
+      Still to suruiue in my immortall Song.
+
+
+8
+
+    There's nothing grieues me, but that Age should haste,
+    That in my dayes I may not see thee old,
+    That where those two deare sparkling Eyes are plac'd,
+    Onely two Loope-holes, then I might behold.
+    That louely, arched, yuorie, pollish'd Brow,
+    Defac'd with Wrinkles, that I might but see;
+    Thy daintie Hayre, so curl'd, and crisped now,
+    Like grizzled Mosse vpon some aged Tree;
+    Thy Cheeke, now flush with Roses, sunke, and leane,
+    Thy Lips, with age, as any Wafer thinne,
+    Thy Pearly teeth out of thy head so cleane,
+    That when thou feed'st, thy Nose shall touch thy Chinne:
+      These Lines that now thou scorn'st, which should delight thee,
+      Then would I make thee read, but to despight thee.
+
+
+15
+
+_His Remedie for Loue_
+
+    Since to obtaine thee, nothing me will sted,
+    I haue a Med'cine that shall cure my Loue,
+    The powder of her Heart dry'd, when she is dead,
+    That Gold nor Honour ne'r had power to moue;
+    Mix'd with her Teares, that ne'r her true-Loue crost,
+    Nor at Fifteene ne'r long'd to be a Bride,
+    Boyl'd with her Sighes, in giuing vp the Ghost,
+    That for her late deceased Husband dy'd;
+    Into the same then let a Woman breathe,
+    That being chid, did neuer word replie,
+    With one thrice-marry'd's Pray'rs, that did bequeath
+    A Legacie to stale Virginitie.
+      If this Receit haue not the pow'r to winne me,
+      Little Ile say, but thinke the Deuill's in me.
+
+
+21
+
+    A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,
+    (Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue)
+    Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,
+    To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue:
+    When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,
+    Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came;
+    Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot,
+    Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same:
+    But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,
+    Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.
+    But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne,
+    And ransacke all APOLLO'S golden Treasure;
+      Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines,
+      And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.
+
+
+27
+
+    Is not Loue here, as 'tis in other Clymes,
+    And diff'reth it, as doe the seu'rall Nations?
+    Or hath it lost the Vertue, with the Times,
+    Or in this land alt'reth with the Fashions?
+    Or haue our Passions lesser pow'r then theirs,
+    Who had lesse Art them liuely to expresse?
+    Is Nature growne lesse pow'rfull in their Heires,
+    Or in our Fathers did the more transgresse?
+    I am sure my Sighes come from a Heart as true,
+    As any Mans, that Memory can boast,
+    And my Respects and Seruices to you
+    Equall with his, that loues his Mistris most:
+      Or Nature must be partiall in my Cause,
+      Or onely you doe violate her Lawes.
+
+
+36
+
+_Cupid coniured_
+
+    Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast been so slacke
+    To wound her Heart, whose Eyes haue wounded me,
+    And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,
+    Thus to my aid, I lastly coniure thee;
+    By Hellish _Styx_ (by which the THUND'RER sweares)
+    By thy faire Mothers vnauoided Power,
+    By HECAT'S Names, by PROSERPINE'S sad Teares,
+    When she was rapt to the infernall Bower,
+    By thine own loued PSYCHES, by the Fires
+    Spent on thine Altars, flaming vp to Heau'n;
+    By all the Louers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,
+    By all the Wounds that euer thou hast giu'n;
+      I coniure thee by all that I haue nam'd,
+      To make her loue, or CUPID be thou damn'd.
+
+
+48
+
+    Cupid, I hate thee, which I'de haue thee know,
+    A naked Starueling euer may'st thou be,
+    Poore Rogue, goe pawne thy _Fascia_ and thy Bow,
+    For some few Ragges, wherewith to couer thee;
+    Or if thou'lt not, thy Archerie forbeare,
+    To some base Rustick doe thy selfe preferre,
+    And when Corne's sowne, or growne into the Eare,
+    Practise thy Quiuer, and turne Crow-keeper;
+    Or being Blind (as fittest for the Trade)
+    Goe hyre thy selfe some bungling Harpers Boy;
+    They that are blind, are Minstrels often made,
+    So may'st thou liue, to thy faire Mothers Ioy:
+      That whilst with MARS she holdeth her old way,
+      Thou, her Blind Sonne, may'st sit by them, and play.
+
+
+52
+
+    What dost thou meane to Cheate me of my Heart,
+    To take all Mine, and giue me none againe?
+    Or haue thine Eyes such Magike, or that Art,
+    That what They get, They euer doe retaine?
+    Play not the Tyrant, but take some Remorse,
+    Rebate thy Spleene, if but for Pitties sake;
+    Or Cruell, if thou can'st not; let vs scorse,
+    And for one Piece of Thine, my whole heart take.
+    But what of Pitty doe I speake to Thee,
+    Whose Brest is proofe against Complaint or Prayer?
+    Or can I thinke what my Reward shall be
+    From that proud Beauty, which was my betrayer?
+      What talke I of a Heart, when thou hast none?
+      Or if thou hast, it is a flinty one.
+
+
+61
+
+    Since there 's no helpe, Come let vs kisse and part,
+    Nay, I haue done: You get no more of Me,
+    And I am glad, yea glad withall my heart,
+    That thus so cleanly, I my Selfe can free,
+    Shake hands for euer, Cancell all our Vowes,
+    And when we meet at any time againe,
+    Be it not scene in either of our Browes,
+    That We one iot of former Loue reteyne;
+    Now at the last gaspe of Loues latest Breath,
+    When his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,
+    When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death,
+    And Innocence is closing vp his Eyes,
+      Now if thou would'st, when all haue giuen him ouer,
+      From Death to Life, thou might'st him yet recouer.
+
+
+
+
+ODES
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+
+TO HIMSELFE AND THE HARPE
+
+                    And why not I, as hee
+                    That's greatest, if as free,
+                      (In sundry strains that striue,
+                    Since there so many be)
+                      Th' old _Lyrick_ kind reuiue?
+
+                    I will, yea, and I may;
+                    Who shall oppose my way?
+                      For what is he alone,
+                    That of himselfe can say,
+                      Hee's Heire of _Helicon_?                       10
+
+                    APOLLO, and the Nine,
+                    Forbid no Man their Shrine,
+                      That commeth with hands pure;
+                    Else be they so diuine,
+                      They will not him indure.
+
+                    For they be such coy Things,
+                    That they care not for Kings,
+                      And dare let them know it;
+                    Nor may he touch their Springs,
+                      That is not borne a Poet.                       20
+
+Pyreneus, _King     The _Phocean_ it did proue,
+of_ Phocis,         Whom when foule Lust did moue,
+_attempting to        Those Mayds vnchast to make,
+rauish the Muses._  Fell, as with them he stroue,
+                    His Neck and iustly brake.
+
+                    That instrument ne'r heard,
+                    Strooke by the skilfull Bard,
+                      It strongly to awake;
+                    But it th' infernalls skard,
+                      And made Olympus quake.                         30
+
+Sam. lib. 1.        As those Prophetike strings
+cap. 16.            Whose sounds with fiery Wings,
+                      Draue Fiends from their abode,
+                    Touch'd by the best of Kings,
+                      That sang the holy Ode.
+
+Orpheus _the_       So his, which Women slue,
+Thracian _Poet_.    And it int' Hebrus threw,
+Caput, Hebre,         Such sounds yet forth it sent,
+lyramque Excipis.   The Bankes to weepe that drue,
+&c. Ouid. lib. 11.    As downe the streame it went.                   40
+Metam.
+Mercury _inuentor   That by the Tortoyse shell,
+of the Harpe, as_   To MAYAS Sonne it fell,
+Horace Ode 10.        The most thereof not doubt
+lib. 1. _curuaq;    But sure some Power did dwell,
+lyra parente_.        In Him who found it out.
+
+Thebes _fayned      The Wildest of the field,
+to haue beene       And Ayre, with Riuers t' yeeld,
+raysed by             Which mou'd; that sturdy Glebes,
+Musicke._           And massie Oakes could weeld,
+                      To rayse the pyles of _Thebes_.                 50
+
+                    And diuersly though Strung,
+                    So anciently We sung,
+                      To it, that Now scarce knowne,
+                    If first it did belong
+                      To _Greece_, or if our Owne.
+
+_The ancient_       The _Druydes_ imbrew'd,
+British _Priests_   With Gore, on Altars rude
+so called of          With Sacrifices crown'd,
+their abode in      In hollow Woods bedew'd,
+woods.                Ador'd the Trembling sound.                     60
+
+Pindar _Prince of   Though wee be All to seeke,
+the_ Greeke         Of PINDAR that Great _Greeke_,
+lyricks, _of whom_    To Finger it aright,
+Horace: Pindarum    The Soule with power to strike,
+quisquis studet,      His hand retayn'd such Might.
+&c. Ode 2. lib. 4.
+Horace _first of    Or him that _Rome_ did grace
+the_ Romans _in     Whose Ayres we all imbrace,
+that kind_.           That scarcely found his Peere,
+                    Nor giueth PHOEBVS place,
+                      For Strokes diuinely cleere.                    70
+
+_The_ Irish         The _Irish_ I admire,
+_Harpe_.            And still cleaue to that Lyre,
+                      As our Musike's Mother,
+                    And thinke, till I expire,
+                      APOLLO'S such another.
+
+                    As _Britons_, that so long
+                    Haue held this Antike Song,
+                      And let all our Carpers
+                    Forbeare their fame to wrong,
+                      Th' are right skilfull Harpers.                 80
+
+Southerne, _an_     _Southerne_, I long thee spare,
+English _Lyrick_.   Yet wish thee well to fare,
+                      Who me pleased'st greatly,
+                    As first, therefore more rare,
+                      Handling thy Harpe neatly.
+
+                    To those that with despight
+                    Shall terme these Numbers slight,
+                      Tell them their Iudgement's blind,
+                    Much erring from the right,
+                      It is a Noble kind.                             90
+
+_An old_ English    Nor is 't the Verse doth make,
+_Rymer_.            That giueth, or doth take,
+                      'Tis possible to clyme,
+                    To kindle, or to slake,
+                      Although in SKELTON'S Ryme.
+
+
+TO THE NEW YEERE
+
+    Rich Statue, double-faced,
+    With Marble Temples graced,
+      To rayse thy God-head hyer,
+    In flames where Altars shining,
+    Before thy Priests diuining,
+      Doe od'rous Fumes expire.
+
+    Great IANVS, I thy pleasure,
+    With all the _Thespian_ treasure,
+      Doe seriously pursue;
+    To th' passed yeere returning,                                    10
+    As though the old adiourning,
+      Yet bringing in the new.
+
+    Thy ancient Vigils yeerely,
+    I haue obserued cleerely,
+      Thy Feasts yet smoaking bee;
+    Since all thy store abroad is,
+    Giue something to my Goddesse,
+      As hath been vs'd by thee.
+
+    Giue her th' _Eoan_ brightnesse,
+    Wing'd with that subtill lightnesse,                              20
+      That doth trans-pierce the Ayre;
+    The Roses of the Morning
+    The rising Heau'n adorning,
+      To mesh with flames of Hayre.
+
+    Those ceaselesse Sounds, aboue all,
+    Made by those Orbes that moue all,
+      And euer swelling there,
+    Wrap'd vp in Numbers flowing,
+    Them actually bestowing,
+      For Iewels at her Eare.                                         30
+
+    O Rapture great and holy,
+    Doe thou transport me wholly,
+      So well her forme to vary,
+    That I aloft may beare her,
+    Whereas I will insphere her,
+      In Regions high and starry.
+
+    And in my choise Composures,
+    The soft and easie Closures,
+      So amorously shall meet;
+    That euery liuely Ceasure                                         40
+    Shall tread a perfect Measure
+      Set on so equall feet.
+
+    That Spray to fame so fertle,
+    The Louer-crowning Mirtle,
+      In Wreaths of mixed Bowes,
+    Within whose shades are dwelling
+    Those Beauties most excelling,
+      Inthron'd vpon her Browes.
+
+    Those Paralels so euen,
+    Drawne on the face of Heauen,                                     50
+      That curious Art supposes,
+    Direct those Gems, whose cleerenesse
+    Farre off amaze by neerenesse,
+      Each Globe such fire incloses.
+
+    Her Bosome full of Blisses,
+    By Nature made for Kisses,
+      So pure and wond'rous cleere,
+    Whereas a thousand Graces
+    Behold their louely Faces,
+      As they are bathing there.                                      60
+
+    O, thou selfe-little blindnesse,
+    The kindnesse of vnkindnesse,
+      Yet one of those diuine;
+    Thy Brands to me were leuer,
+    Thy _Fascia_, and thy Quiuer,
+      And thou this Quill of mine.
+
+    This Heart so freshly bleeding,
+    Vpon it owne selfe feeding,
+      Whose woundes still dropping be;
+    O Loue, thy selfe confounding,                                    70
+    Her coldnesse so abounding,
+      And yet such heat in me.
+
+    Yet if I be inspired,
+    Ile leaue thee so admired,
+      To all that shall succeed,
+    That were they more then many,
+    'Mongst all, there is not any,
+      That Time so oft shall read.
+
+    Nor Adamant ingraued,
+    That hath been choisely 'st saued,                                80
+      IDEA'S Name out-weares;
+    So large a Dower as this is,
+    The greatest often misses,
+      The Diadem that beares.
+
+
+TO HIS VALENTINE
+
+    Muse, bid the Morne awake,
+      Sad Winter now declines,
+    Each Bird doth chuse a Make,
+      This day 's Saint VALENTINE'S;
+    For that good Bishop's sake
+    Get vp, and let vs see,
+    What Beautie it shall bee,
+      That Fortune vs assignes.
+
+    But lo, in happy How'r,
+      The place wherein she lyes,                                     10
+    In yonder climbing Tow'r,
+      Gilt by the glitt'ring Rise;
+    O IOVE! that in a Show'r,
+    As once that Thund'rer did,
+    When he in drops lay hid,
+      That I could her surprize.
+
+    Her Canopie Ile draw,
+      With spangled Plumes bedight,
+    No Mortall euer saw
+      So rauishing a sight;                                           20
+    That it the Gods might awe,
+    And pow'rfully trans-pierce
+    The Globie Vniuerse,
+      Out-shooting eu'ry Light.
+
+    My Lips Ile softly lay
+      Vpon her heau'nly Cheeke,
+    Dy'd like the dawning Day,
+      As polish'd Iuorie sleeke:
+    And in her Eare Ile say;
+    O, thou bright Morning-Starre,                                    30
+    'Tis I that come so farre,
+      My Valentine to seeke.
+
+    Each little Bird, this Tyde,
+      Doth chuse her loued Pheere,
+    Which constantly abide
+      In Wedlock all the yeere,
+    As Nature is their Guide:
+    So may we two be true,
+    This yeere, nor change for new,
+      As Turtles coupled were.                                        40
+
+    The Sparrow, Swan, the Doue,
+      Though VENVS Birds they be,
+    Yet are they not for Loue
+      So absolute as we:
+    For Reason vs doth moue;
+    They but by billing woo:
+    Then try what we can doo,
+      To whom each sense is free.
+
+    Which we haue more then they,
+      By liuelyer Organs sway'd,                                      50
+    Our Appetite each way
+      More by our Sense obay'd:
+    Our Passions to display,
+    This Season vs doth fit;
+    Then let vs follow it,
+      As Nature vs doth lead.
+
+    One Kisse in two let's breake,
+      Confounded with the touch,
+    But halfe words let vs speake,
+      Our Lip's imploy'd so much,                                     60
+    Vntill we both grow weake,
+    With sweetnesse of thy breath;
+    O smother me to death:
+      Long let our Ioyes be such.
+
+    Let's laugh at them that chuse
+      Their Valentines by lot,
+    To weare their Names that vse,
+      Whom idly they haue got:
+    Such poore choise we refuse,
+    Saint VALENTINE befriend;                                         70
+    We thus this Morne may spend,
+      Else Muse, awake her not.
+
+
+THE HEART
+
+    If thus we needs must goe,
+    What shall our one Heart doe,
+    This One made of our Two?
+
+    Madame, two Hearts we brake,
+    And from them both did take
+    The best, one Heart to make.
+
+    Halfe this is of your Heart,
+    Mine in the other part,
+    Ioyn'd by our equall Art.
+
+    Were it cymented, or sowne,                                       10
+    By Shreds or Pieces knowne,
+    We each might find our owne.
+
+    But 'tis dissolu'd, and fix'd,
+    And with such cunning mix'd,
+    No diffrence that betwixt.
+
+    But how shall we agree,
+    By whom it kept shall be,
+    Whether by you, or me?
+
+    It cannot two Brests fill,
+    One must be heartlesse still,                                     20
+    Vntill the other will.
+
+    It came to me one day,
+    When I will'd it to say,
+    With whether it would stay?
+
+    It told me, in your Brest,
+    Where it might hope to rest:
+    For if it were my Ghest,
+
+    For certainety it knew,
+    That I would still anew
+    Be sending it to you.                                             30
+
+    Neuer, I thinke, had two
+    Such worke, so much to doo,
+    A Vnitie to woo.
+
+    Yours was so cold and chaste,
+    Whilst mine with zeale did waste,
+    Like Fire with Water plac'd.
+
+    How did my Heart intreat,
+    How pant, how did it beat,
+    Till it could giue yours heat!
+
+    Till to that temper brought,                                      40
+    Through our perfection wrought,
+    That blessing eythers Thought.
+
+    In such a Height it lyes,
+    From this base Worlds dull Eyes,
+    That Heauen it not enuyes.
+
+    All that this Earth can show,
+    Our Heart shall not once know,
+    For it too vile and low.
+
+
+THE SACRIFICE TO APOLLO
+
+    Priests of APOLLO, sacred be the Roome,
+    For this learn'd Meeting: Let no barbarous Groome,
+          How braue soe'r he bee,
+          Attempt to enter;
+          But of the Muses free,
+          None here may venter;
+    This for the _Delphian_ Prophets is prepar'd:
+    The prophane Vulgar are from hence debar'd.
+
+    And since the Feast so happily begins,
+    Call vp those faire Nine, with their Violins;                     10
+          They are begot by IOVE,
+          Then let vs place them,
+          Where no Clowne in may shoue,
+          That may disgrace them:
+    But let them neere to young APOLLO sit;
+    So shall his Foot-pace ouer-flow with Wit.
+
+    Where be the Graces, where be those fayre Three?
+    In any hand they may not absent bee:
+          They to the Gods are deare,
+          And they can humbly                                         20
+          Teach vs, our Selues to beare,
+          And doe things comely:
+    They, and the Muses, rise both from one Stem,
+    They grace the Muses, and the Muses them.
+
+    Bring forth your Flaggons (fill'd with sparkling Wine)
+    Whereon swolne BACCHVS, crowned with a Vine,
+          Is grauen, and fill out,
+          It well bestowing,
+          To eu'ry Man about,
+          In Goblets flowing:                                         30
+    Let not a Man drinke, but in Draughts profound;
+    To our God PHOEBVS let the Health goe Round.
+
+    Let your Iests flye at large; yet therewithall
+    See they be Salt, but yet not mix'd with Gall:
+          Not tending to disgrace,
+          But fayrely giuen,
+          Becomming well the place,
+          Modest, and euen;
+    That they with tickling Pleasure may prouoke
+    Laughter in him, on whom the Iest is broke.                       40
+
+    Or if the deeds of HEROES ye rehearse,
+    Let them be sung in so well-ord'red Verse,
+          That each word haue his weight,
+          Yet runne with pleasure;
+          Holding one stately height,
+          In so braue measure,
+    That they may make the stiffest Storme seeme weake,
+    And dampe IOVES Thunder, when it lowd'st doth speake.
+
+    And if yee list to exercise your Vayne,
+    Or in the Sock, or in the Buskin'd Strayne,                       50
+          Let Art and Nature goe
+          One with the other;
+          Yet so, that Art may show
+          Nature her Mother;
+    The thick-brayn'd Audience liuely to awake,
+    Till with shrill Claps the Theater doe shake.
+
+    Sing Hymnes to BACCHVS then, with hands vprear'd,
+    Offer to IOVE, who most is to be fear'd;
+          From him the Muse we haue,
+          From him proceedeth                                         60
+          More then we dare to craue;
+          'Tis he that feedeth
+    Them, whom the World would starue; then let the Lyre
+    Sound, whilst his Altars endlesse flames expire.
+
+
+TO CVPID
+
+    Maydens, why spare ye?
+    Or whether not dare ye
+      Correct the blind Shooter?
+    Because wanton VENVS,
+    So oft that doth paine vs,
+      Is her Sonnes Tutor.
+
+    Now in the Spring,
+    He proueth his Wing,
+      The Field is his Bower,
+    And as the small Bee,                                             10
+    About flyeth hee,
+      From Flower to Flower.
+
+    And wantonly roues,
+    Abroad in the Groues,
+      And in the Ayre houers,
+    Which when it him deweth,
+    His Fethers he meweth,
+      In sighes of true Louers.
+
+    And since doom'd by Fate,
+    (That well knew his Hate)                                         20
+      That Hee should be blinde;
+    For very despite,
+    Our Eyes be his White,
+      So wayward his kinde.
+
+    If his Shafts loosing,
+    (Ill his Mark choosing)
+      Or his Bow broken;
+    The Moane VENVS maketh,
+    And care that she taketh,
+      Cannot be spoken.                                               30
+
+    To VULCAN commending
+    Her loue, and straight sending
+      Her Doues and her Sparrowes,
+    With Kisses vnto him,
+    And all but to woo him,
+      To make her Sonne Arrowes.
+
+    Telling what he hath done,
+    (Sayth she, Right mine owne Sonne)
+      In her Armes she him closes,
+    Sweetes on him fans,                                              40
+    Layd in Downe of her Swans,
+      His Sheets, Leaues of Roses.
+
+    And feeds him with Kisses;
+    Which oft when he misses,
+      He euer is froward:
+    The Mothers o'r-ioying,
+    Makes by much coying,
+      The Child so vntoward.
+
+    Yet in a fine Net,
+    That a Spider set,                                                50
+      The Maydens had caught him;
+    Had she not beene neere him,
+    And chanced to heare him,
+      More good they had taught him.
+
+
+AN AMOVRET ANACREONTICK
+
+    Most good, most faire,
+    Or Thing as rare,
+    To call you's lost;
+    For all the cost
+    Words can bestow,
+    So poorely show
+    Vpon your prayse,
+    That all the wayes
+    Sense hath, come short:
+    Whereby Report                                                    10
+    Falls them vnder;
+    That when Wonder
+    More hath seyzed,
+    Yet not pleased,
+    That it in kinde
+    Nothing can finde,
+    You to expresse:
+    Neuerthelesse,
+    As by Globes small,
+    This Mightie ALL                                                  20
+    Is shew'd, though farre
+    From Life, each Starre
+    A World being:
+    So wee seeing
+    You, like as that,
+    Onely trust what
+    Art doth vs teach;
+    And when I reach
+    At Morall Things,
+    And that my Strings                                               30
+    Grauely should strike,
+    Straight some mislike
+    Blotteth mine ODE.
+    As with the Loade,
+    The Steele we touch,
+    Forced ne'r so much,
+    Yet still remoues
+    To that it loues,
+    Till there it stayes;
+    So to your prayse                                                 40
+    I turne euer,
+    And though neuer
+    From you mouing,
+    Happie so louing.
+
+
+LOVES CONQVEST
+
+      Wer't granted me to choose,
+    How I would end my dayes;
+      Since I this life must loose,
+    It should be in Your praise;
+    For there is no Bayes
+      Can be set aboue you.
+
+      S' impossibly I loue You,
+    And for you sit so hie,
+      Whence none may remoue You
+    In my cleere Poesie,                                              10
+    That I oft deny
+      You so ample Merit.
+
+      The freedome of my Spirit
+    Maintayning (still) my Cause,
+      Your Sex not to inherit,
+    Vrging the _Salique_ Lawes;
+    But your Vertue drawes
+      From me euery due.
+
+      Thus still You me pursue,
+    That no where I can dwell,                                        20
+      By Feare made iust to You,
+    Who naturally rebell,
+    Of You that excell
+      That should I still Endyte,
+
+      Yet will You want some Ryte.
+    That lost in your high praise
+      I wander to and fro,
+    As seeing sundry Waies:
+    Yet which the right not know
+      To get out of this Maze.                                        30
+
+
+TO THE VIRIGINIAN VOYAGE
+
+    You braue Heroique minds,
+    Worthy your Countries Name;
+      That Honour still pursue,
+      Goe, and subdue,
+    Whilst loyt'ring Hinds
+    Lurke here at home, with shame.
+
+    _Britans_, you stay too long,
+    Quickly aboard bestow you,
+      And with a merry Gale
+      Swell your stretch'd Sayle,                                     10
+    With Vowes as strong,
+    As the Winds that blow you.
+
+    Your Course securely steere,
+    West and by South forth keepe,
+      Rocks, Lee-shores, nor Sholes,
+      When EOLVS scowles,
+    You need not feare,
+    So absolute the Deepe.
+
+    And cheerefully at Sea,
+    Successe you still intice,                                        20
+      To get the Pearle and Gold,
+      And ours to hold,
+    VIRGINIA,
+    Earth's onely Paradise.
+
+    Where Nature hath in store
+    Fowle, Venison, and Fish,
+      And the Fruitfull'st Soyle,
+      Without your Toyle,
+    Three Haruests more,
+    All greater then your Wish.                                       30
+
+    And the ambitious Vine
+    Crownes with his purple Masse,
+      The cedar reaching hie
+      To kisse the Sky
+    The Cypresse, Pine
+    And vse-full Sassafras.
+
+    To whome, the golden Age
+    Still Natures lawes doth giue,
+      No other Cares that tend,
+      But Them to defend                                              40
+    From Winters rage,
+    That long there doth not liue.
+
+    When as the Lushious smell
+    Of that delicious Land,
+      Aboue the Seas that flowes,
+      The cleere Wind throwes,
+    Your Hearts to swell
+    Approaching the deare Strande.
+
+    In kenning of the Shore
+    (Thanks to God first giuen,)                                      50
+      O you the happy'st men,
+      Be Frolike then,
+    Let Cannons roare,
+    Frighting the wide Heauen.
+
+    And in Regions farre
+    Such Heroes bring yee foorth,
+      As those from whom We came,
+      And plant Our name,
+    Vnder that Starre
+    Not knowne vnto our North.                                        60
+
+    And as there Plenty growes
+    Of Lawrell euery where,
+      APOLLO'S Sacred tree,
+      You may it see,
+    A Poets Browes
+    To crowne, that may sing there.
+
+    Thy Voyages attend,
+    Industrious HACKLVIT,
+      Whose Reading shall inflame
+      Men to seeke Fame,                                              70
+    And much commend
+    To after-Times thy Wit.
+
+
+AN ODE WRITTEN IN THE PEAKE
+
+    This while we are abroad,
+      Shall we not touch our Lyre?
+    Shall we not sing an ODE?
+      Shall that holy Fire,
+    In vs that strongly glow'd,
+      In this cold Ayre expire?
+
+    Long since the Summer layd
+      Her lustie Brau'rie downe,
+    The Autumne halfe is way'd,
+      And BOREAS 'gins to frowne,                                     10
+    Since now I did behold
+      Great BRVTES first builded Towne.
+
+    Though in the vtmost _Peake_,
+      A while we doe remaine,
+    Amongst the Mountaines bleake
+      Expos'd to Sleet and Raine,
+    No Sport our Houres shall breake,
+      To exercise our Vaine.
+
+    What though bright PHOEBVS Beames
+      Refresh the Southerne Ground,                                   20
+    And though the Princely _Thames_
+      With beautious Nymphs abound,
+    And by old _Camber's_ Streames
+      Be many Wonders found;
+
+    Yet many Riuers cleare
+      Here glide in Siluer Swathes,
+    And what of all most deare,
+      _Buckston's_ delicious Bathes,
+    Strong Ale and Noble Cheare,
+      T' asswage breeme Winters scathes.                              30
+
+    Those grim and horrid Caues,
+      Whose Lookes affright the day,
+    Wherein nice Nature saues,
+      What she would not bewray,
+    Our better leasure craues,
+      And doth inuite our Lay.
+
+    In places farre or neere,
+      Or famous, or obscure,
+    Where wholesome is the Ayre,
+      Or where the most impure,                                       40
+    All times, and euery-where,
+      The Muse is still in vre.
+
+
+HIS DEFENCE AGAINST THE IDLE CRITICK
+
+    The Ryme nor marres, nor makes,
+    Nor addeth it, nor takes,
+      From that which we propose;
+    Things imaginarie
+    Doe so strangely varie,
+      That quickly we them lose.
+
+    And what 's quickly begot,
+    As soone againe is not,
+      This doe I truely know:
+    Yea, and what 's borne with paine,                                10
+    That Sense doth long'st retaine,
+      Gone with a greater Flow.
+
+    Yet this Critick so sterne,
+    But whom, none must discerne,
+      Nor perfectly haue seeing,
+    Strangely layes about him,
+    As nothing without him
+      Were worthy of being.
+
+    That I my selfe betray
+    To that most publique way,                                        20
+      Where the Worlds old Bawd,
+    Custome, that doth humor,
+    And by idle rumor,
+      Her Dotages applaud.
+
+    That whilst he still prefers
+    Those that be wholly hers,
+      Madnesse and Ignorance,
+    I creepe behind the Time,
+    From spertling with their Crime,
+      And glad too with my Chance.                                    30
+
+    O wretched World the while,
+    When the euill most vile,
+      Beareth the fayrest face,
+    And inconstant lightnesse,
+    With a scornefull slightnesse,
+      The best Things doth disgrace.
+
+    Whilst this strange knowing Beast,
+    Man, of himselfe the least,
+      His Enuie declaring,
+    Makes Vertue to descend,                                          40
+    Her title to defend,
+      Against him, much preparing.
+
+    Yet these me not delude,
+    Nor from my place extrude,
+      By their resolued Hate;
+    Their vilenesse that doe know;
+    Which to my selfe I show,
+      To keepe aboue my Fate.
+
+
+TO HIS RIVALL
+
+      Her lou'd I most,
+      By thee that 's lost,
+    Though she were wonne with leasure;
+      She was my gaine,
+      But to my paine,
+    Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.
+
+      The Ship full fraught
+      With Gold, farre sought,
+    Though ne'r so wisely helmed,
+      May suffer wracke                                               10
+      In sayling backe,
+    By Tempest ouer-whelmed.
+
+      But shee, good Sir,
+      Did not preferre
+    You, for that I was ranging;
+      But for that shee
+      Found faith in mee,
+    And she lou'd to be changing.
+
+      Therefore boast not
+      Your happy Lot,                                                 20
+    Be silent now you haue her;
+      The time I knew
+      She slighted you,
+    When I was in her fauour.
+
+      None stands so fast,
+      But may be cast
+    By Fortune, and disgraced:
+      Once did I weare
+      Her Garter there,
+    Where you her Gloue haue placed.                                  30
+
+      I had the Vow
+      That thou hast now,
+    And Glances to discouer
+      Her Loue to mee,
+      And she to thee
+    Reades but old Lessons ouer.
+
+      She hath no Smile
+      That can beguile,
+    But as my Thought I know it;
+      Yea, to a Hayre,                                                40
+      Both when and where,
+    And how she will bestow it.
+
+      What now is thine,
+      Was onely mine,
+    And first to me was giuen;
+      Thou laugh'st at mee,
+      I laugh at thee,
+    And thus we two are euen.
+
+      But Ile not mourne,
+      But stay my Turne,                                              50
+    The Wind may come about, Sir,
+      And once againe
+      May bring me in,
+    And help to beare you out, Sir.
+
+
+A SKELTONIAD
+
+    The Muse should be sprightly,
+    Yet not handling lightly
+    Things graue; as much loath,
+    Things that be slight, to cloath
+    Curiously: To retayne
+    The Comelinesse in meane,
+    Is true Knowledge and Wit.
+    Not me forc'd Rage doth fit,
+    That I thereto should lacke
+    Tabacco, or need Sacke,                                           10
+    Which to the colder Braine
+    Is the true _Hyppocrene_;
+    Nor did I euer care
+    For great Fooles, nor them spare.
+    Vertue, though neglected,
+    Is not so deiected,
+    As vilely to descend
+    To low Basenesse their end;
+    Neyther each ryming Slaue
+    Deserues the Name to haue                                         20
+    Of Poet: so the Rabble
+    Of Fooles, for the Table,
+    That haue their Iests by Heart,
+    As an Actor his Part,
+    Might assume them Chayres
+    Amongst the Muses Heyres.
+    _Parnassus_ is not clome
+    By euery such Mome;
+    Vp whose steep side who swerues,
+    It behoues t' haue strong Nerues:                                 30
+    My Resolution such,
+    How well, and not how much
+    To write, thus doe I fare,
+    Like some few good that care
+    (The euill sort among)
+    How well to liue, and not how long.
+
+
+THE CRYER
+
+      Good Folke, for Gold or Hyre,
+      But helpe me to a Cryer;
+    For my poore Heart is runne astray
+    After two Eyes, that pass'd this way.
+        O yes, O yes, O yes,
+        If there be any Man,
+        In Towne or Countrey, can
+        Bring me my Heart againe,
+        Ile please him for his paine;
+    And by these Marks I will you show,                               10
+    That onely I this Heart doe owe.
+        It is a wounded Heart,
+        Wherein yet sticks the Dart,
+      Eu'ry piece sore hurt throughout it,
+      Faith, and Troth, writ round about it:
+    It was a tame Heart, and a deare,
+        And neuer vs'd to roame;
+    But hauing got this Haunt, I feare
+        'Twill hardly stay at home.
+    For Gods sake, walking by the way,                                20
+        If you my Heart doe see,
+    Either impound it for a Stray,
+        Or send it backe to me.
+
+
+TO HIS COY LOVE
+
+A CANZONET
+
+    I pray thee leaue, loue me no more,
+      Call home the Heart you gaue me,
+    I but in vaine that Saint adore,
+      That can, but will not saue me:
+    These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;
+      Was euer man thus serued?
+    Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
+      For Pleasure to be sterued.
+
+    Shew me no more those Snowie Brests,
+      With Azure Riuerets branched,                                   10
+    Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
+      Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
+    O TANTALVS, thy Paines n'er tell,
+      By me thou art preuented;
+    'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,
+      But thus in Heauen tormented.
+
+    Clip me no more in those deare Armes,
+      Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;
+    O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,
+      And doe but more inthrall me.                                   20
+    But see, how patient I am growne,
+      In all this coyle about thee;
+    Come nice thing, let my Heart alone,
+      I cannot liue without thee.
+
+
+A HYMNE TO HIS LADIES BIRTH-PLACE
+
+                      Couentry, that do'st adorne
+                    The Countrey wherein I was borne,
+                    Yet therein lyes not thy prayse
+                    Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs with Bayes:
+_Couentry finely    'Tis not thy Wall, me to thee weds
+walled._            Thy Ports, nor thy proud Pyrameds,
+_The Shoulder-bone  Nor thy Trophies of the Bore,
+of a hare of        But that Shee which I adore,
+mighty bignesse._   Which scarce Goodnesse selfe can payre,
+                    First their breathing blest thy Ayre;             10
+                    IDEA, in which Name I hide
+                    Her, in my heart Deifi'd,
+                    For what good, Man's mind can see,
+                    Onely her IDEAS be;
+                    She, in whom the Vertues came
+                    In Womans shape, and tooke her Name,
+                    She so farre past Imitation,
+                    As but Nature our Creation
+                    Could not alter, she had aymed,
+                    More then Woman to haue framed:                   20
+                    She, whose truely written Story,
+                    To thy poore Name shall adde more glory,
+                    Then if it should haue beene thy Chance,
+                    T' haue bred our Kings that Conquer'd _France_.
+                    Had She beene borne the former Age,
+_Two famous         That house had beene a Pilgrimage,
+Pilgrimages, the    And reputed more Diuine,
+one in_ Norfolk,    Then _Walsingham_ or BECKETS Shrine.
+_the other in_        That Princesse, to whom thou do'st owe
+Kent.               Thy Freedome, whose Cleere blushing snow,         30
+Godiua, _Duke_      The enuious Sunne saw, when as she
+Leofricks _wife,    Naked rode to make Thee free,
+who obtained the    Was but her Type, as to foretell,
+Freedome of the     Thou should'st bring forth one, should excell
+city, of her        Her Bounty, by whom thou should'st haue
+husband, by riding  More Honour, then she Freedome gaue;
+thorow it naked._   And that great Queene, which but of late
+_Queene_            Rul'd this Land in Peace and State,
+Elizabeth.          Had not beene, but Heauen had sworne,
+                    A Maide should raigne, when she was borne.        40
+_A noted Streete      Of thy Streets, which thou hold'st best,
+in_ Couentry.       And most frequent of the rest,
+                    Happy _Mich-Parke_ eu'ry yeere,
+_His Mistresse      On the fourth of _August_ there,
+birth-day._         Let thy Maides from FLORA'S bowers,
+                    With their Choyce and daintiest flowers
+                    Decke Thee vp, and from their store,
+                    With braue Garlands crowne that dore.
+                    The old Man passing by that way,
+                    To his Sonne in time shall say,                   50
+                    There was that Lady borne, which long
+                    To after-Ages shall be sung;
+                    Who vnawares being passed by,
+                    Back to that House shall cast his Eye,
+                    Speaking my Verses as he goes,
+                    And with a Sigh shut eu'ry Close.
+                      Deare Citie, trauelling by thee,
+                    When thy rising Spyres I see,
+                    Destined her place of Birth;
+                    Yet me thinkes the very Earth                     60
+                    Hallowed is, so farre as I
+                    Can thee possibly descry:
+                    Then thou dwelling in this place,
+                    Hearing some rude Hinde disgrace
+                    Thy Citie with some scuruy thing,
+                    Which some Iester forth did bring,
+                    Speake these Lines where thou do'st come,
+                    And strike the Slaue for euer dumbe.
+
+
+TO THE CAMBRO-BRITANS and their Harpe, his Ballad of
+AGINCOVRT
+
+    Faire stood the Wind for _France_,
+    When we our Sayles aduance,
+    Nor now to proue our chance,
+        Longer will tarry;
+    But putting to the Mayne,
+    At _Kaux_, the Mouth of _Sene_,
+    With all his Martiall Trayne,
+        Landed King HARRY.
+
+    And taking many a Fort,
+    Furnish'd in Warlike sort,                                        10
+    Marcheth tow'rds _Agincourt_,
+        In happy howre;
+    Skirmishing day by day,
+    With those that stop'd his way,
+    Where the _French_ Gen'rall lay,
+        With all his Power.
+
+    Which in his Hight of Pride,
+    King HENRY to deride,
+    His Ransome to prouide
+        To the King sending.                                          20
+    Which he neglects the while,
+    As from a Nation vile,
+    Yet with an angry smile,
+        Their fall portending.
+
+    And turning to his Men,
+    Quoth our braue HENRY then,
+    Though they to one be ten,
+        Be not amazed.
+    Yet haue we well begunne,
+    Battels so brauely wonne,                                         30
+    Haue euer to the Sonne,
+        By Fame beene raysed.
+
+    And, for my Selfe (quoth he),
+    This my full rest shall be,
+    _England_ ne'r mourne for Me,
+        Nor more esteeme me.
+    Victor I will remaine,
+    Or on this Earth lie slaine,
+    Neuer shall Shee sustaine,
+        Losse to redeeme me.                                          40
+
+    _Poiters_ and _Cressy_ tell,
+    When most their Pride did swell,
+    Vnder our Swords they fell,
+        No lesse our skill is,
+    Than when our Grandsire Great,
+    Clayming the Regall Seate,
+    By many a Warlike feate,
+        Lop'd the _French_ Lillies.
+
+    The Duke of _Yorke_ so dread,
+    The eager Vaward led;                                             50
+    With the maine, HENRY sped,
+        Among'st his Hench-men.
+    EXCESTER had the Rere,
+    A Brauer man not there,
+    O Lord, how hot they were,
+        On the false _French-men_!
+
+    They now to fight are gone,
+    Armour on Armour shone,
+    Drumme now to Drumme did grone,
+        To heare, was wonder;                                         60
+    That with the Cryes they make,
+    The very Earth did shake,
+    Trumpet to Trumpet spake,
+        Thunder to Thunder.
+
+    Well it thine Age became,
+    O Noble ERPINGHAM,
+    Which didst the Signall ayme,
+        To our hid Forces;
+    When from a Medow by,
+    Like a Storme suddenly,                                           70
+    The _English_ Archery
+        Stuck the _French_ Horses,
+
+    With _Spanish_ Ewgh so strong,
+    Arrowes a Cloth-yard long,
+    That like to Serpents stung,
+        Piercing the Weather;
+    None from his fellow starts,
+    But playing Manly parts,
+    And like true _English_ hearts,
+        Stuck close together.                                         80
+
+    When downe their Bowes they threw,
+    And forth their Bilbowes drew,
+    And on the French they flew,
+        Not one was tardie;
+    Armes were from shoulders sent,
+    Scalpes to the Teeth were rent,
+    Downe the _French_ Pesants went,
+        Our Men were hardie.
+
+    This while our Noble King,
+    His broad Sword brandishing,                                      90
+    Downe the _French_ Hoast did ding,
+        As to o'r-whelme it;
+    And many a deepe Wound lent,
+    His Armes with Bloud besprent,
+    And many a cruell Dent
+        Bruised his Helmet.
+
+    GLOSTER, that Duke so good,
+    Next of the Royall Blood,
+    For famous _England_ stood,
+        With his braue Brother;                                      100
+    CLARENCE, in Steele so bright,
+    Though but a Maiden Knight,
+    Yet in that furious Fight,
+        Scarce such another,
+
+    WARWICK in Bloud did wade,
+    OXFORD the Foe inuade,
+    And cruell slaughter made,
+        Still as they ran vp;
+    SVFFOLKE his Axe did ply,
+    BEAVMONT and WILLOVGHBY                                          110
+    Bare them right doughtily,
+        FERRERS and FANHOPE.
+
+    Vpon Saint CRISPIN'S day
+    Fought was this Noble Fray,
+    Which Fame did not delay,
+        To _England_ to carry;
+    O, when shall _English_ Men
+    With such Acts fill a Pen,
+    Or _England_ breed againe,
+        Such a King HARRY?                                           120
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1606]
+
+
+_Ode 4_
+
+_To my worthy frend, Master John Sauage of the Inner Temple_
+
+    Vppon this sinfull earth
+    If man can happy be,
+    And higher then his birth,
+    (Frend) take him thus from me.
+
+    Whome promise not deceiues
+    That he the breach should rue,
+    Nor constant reason leaues
+    Opinion to pursue.
+
+    To rayse his mean estate
+    That sooths no wanton's sinne,                                    10
+    Doth that preferment hate
+    That virtue doth not winne.
+
+    Nor brauery doth admire,
+    Nor doth more loue professe
+    To that he doth desire,
+    Then that he doth possesse.
+
+    Loose humor nor to please,
+    That neither spares nor spends,
+    But by discretion weyes
+    What is to needfull ends.                                         20
+
+    To him deseruing not
+    Not yeelding, nor doth hould
+    What is not his, doing what
+    He ought not what he could.
+
+    Whome the base tyrants will
+    Soe much could neuer awe
+    As him for good or ill
+    From honesty to drawe.
+
+    Whose constancy doth rise
+    'Boue vndeserued spight                                           30
+    Whose valewr's to despise
+    That most doth him delight.
+
+    That earely leaue doth take
+    Of th' world though to his payne
+    For virtues onely sake
+    And not till need constrayne.
+
+    Noe man can be so free
+    Though in imperiall seate
+    Nor Eminent as he
+    That deemeth nothing greate.                                      40
+
+
+_Ode 8_
+
+    Singe wee the Rose
+    Then which no flower there growes
+      Is sweeter:
+    And aptly her compare
+    With what in that is rare
+      A parallel none meeter.
+
+    Or made poses,
+    Of this that incloses
+      Suche blisses,
+    That naturally flusheth                                           10
+    As she blusheth
+      When she is robd of kisses.
+
+    Or if strew'd
+    When with the morning dew'd
+      Or stilling,
+    Or howe to sense expos'd
+    All which in her inclos'd,
+      Ech place with sweetnes filling.
+
+    That most renown'd
+    By Nature richly crownd                                           20
+      With yellow,
+    Of that delitious layre
+    And as pure, her hayre
+      Vnto the same the fellowe,
+
+    Fearing of harme
+    Nature that flower doth arme
+      From danger,
+    The touch giues her offence
+    But with reuerence
+      Vnto her selfe a stranger.                                      30
+
+    That redde, or white,
+    Or mixt, the sence delyte
+      Behoulding,
+    In her complexion
+    All which perfection
+      Such harmony infouldinge.
+
+    That deuyded
+    Ere it was descided
+      Which most pure,
+    Began the greeuous war                                            40
+    Of _York_ and _Lancaster_,
+      That did many yeeres indure.
+
+    Conflicts as greate
+    As were in all that heate
+      I sustaine:
+    By her, as many harts
+    As men on either parts
+      That with her eies hath slaine.
+
+    The Primrose flower
+    The first of _Flora's_ bower                                      50
+      Is placed,
+    Soo is shee first as best
+    Though excellent the rest,
+      All gracing, by none graced.
+
+
+
+
+ELEGIES VPON SVNDRY OCCASIONS
+
+[from the Edition of 1627]
+
+
+Of his Ladies not Comming _to London_
+
+    That ten-yeares-trauell'd _Greeke_ return'd from Sea
+    Ne'r ioyd so much to see his _Ithaca_,
+    As I should you, who are alone to me,
+    More then wide _Greece_ could to that wanderer be.
+    The winter windes still Easterly doe keepe,
+    And with keene Frosts haue chained vp the deepe,
+    The Sunne's to vs a niggard of his Rayes,
+    But reuelleth with our _Antipodes_;
+    And seldome to vs when he shewes his head,
+    Muffled in vapours, he straight hies to bed.                      10
+    In those bleake mountaines can you liue where snowe
+    Maketh the vales vp to the hilles to growe;
+    Whereas mens breathes doe instantly congeale,
+    And attom'd mists turne instantly to hayle;
+    Belike you thinke, from this more temperate cost,
+    My sighes may haue the power to thawe the frost,
+    Which I from hence should swiftly send you thither,
+    Yet not so swift, as you come slowly hither.
+    How many a time, hath _Phebe_ from her wayne,
+    With _Phoebus_ fires fill'd vp her hornes againe;                 20
+    Shee through her Orbe, still on her course doth range,
+    But you keep yours still, nor for me will change.
+    The Sunne that mounted the sterne Lions back,
+    Shall with the Fishes shortly diue the Brack,
+    But still you keepe your station, which confines
+    You, nor regard him trauelling the signes.
+    Those ships which when you went, put out to Sea,
+    Both to our _Groenland_, and _Virginia_,
+    Are now return'd, and Custom'd haue their fraught,
+    Yet you arriue not, nor returne me ought.                         30
+      The Thames was not so frozen yet this yeare,
+    As is my bosome, with the chilly feare
+    Of your not comming, which on me doth light,
+    As on those Climes, where halfe the world is night.
+      Of euery tedious houre you haue made two,
+    All this long Winter here, by missing you:
+    Minutes are months, and when the houre is past,
+    A yeare is ended since the Clocke strooke last,
+    When your Remembrance puts me on the Racke,
+    And I should Swound to see an _Almanacke_,                        40
+    To reade what silent weekes away are slid,
+    Since the dire Fates you from my sight haue hid.
+      I hate him who the first Deuisor was
+    Of this same foolish thing, the Hower-glasse,
+    And of the Watch, whose dribbling sands and Wheele,
+    With their slow stroakes, make mee too much to feele
+    Your slackenesse hither, O how I doe ban,
+    Him that these Dialls against walles began,
+    Whose Snayly motion of the moouing hand,
+    (Although it goe) yet seeme to me to stand;                       50
+    As though at _Adam_ it had first set out
+    And had been stealing all this while about,
+    And when it backe to the first point should come,
+    It shall be then iust at the generall Doome.
+      The Seas into themselues retract their flowes.
+    The changing Winde from euery quarter blowes,
+    Declining Winter in the Spring doth call,
+    The Starrs rise to vs, as from vs they fall;
+    Those Birdes we see, that leaue vs in the Prime,
+    Againe in Autumne re-salute our Clime.                            60
+    Sure, either Nature you from kinde hath made,
+    Or you delight else to be Retrograde.
+      But I perceiue by your attractiue powers,
+    Like an Inchantresse you haue charm'd the bowers
+    Into short minutes, and haue drawne them back,
+    So that of vs at _London_, you doe lack
+    Almost a yeare, the Spring is scarce begonne
+    There where you liue, and Autumne almost done.
+    With vs more Eastward, surely you deuise,
+    By your strong Magicke, that the Sunne shall rise                 70
+    Where now it setts, and that in some few yeares
+    You'l alter quite the Motion of the Spheares.
+      Yes, and you meane, I shall complaine my loue
+    To grauell'd Walkes, or to a stupid Groue,
+    Now your companions; and that you the while
+    (As you are cruell) will sit by and smile,
+    To make me write to these, while Passers by,
+    Sleightly looke in your louely face, where I
+    See Beauties heauen, whilst silly blockheads, they
+    Like laden Asses, plod vpon their way,                            80
+    And wonder not, as you should point a Clowne
+    Vp to the _Guards_, or _Ariadnes_ Crowne;
+    Of Constellations, and his dulnesse tell.
+    Hee'd thinke your words were certainly a Spell;
+    Or him some piece from _Creet_, or _Marcus_ show,
+    In all his life which till that time ne'r saw
+    Painting: except in Alehouse or old Hall
+    Done by some Druzzler, of the Prodigall.
+      Nay doe, stay still, whilst time away shall steale
+    Your youth, and beautie, and your selfe conceale                  90
+    From me I pray you, you haue now inur'd
+    Me to your absence, and I haue endur'd
+    Your want this long, whilst I haue starued bine
+    For your short Letters, as you helde it sinne
+    To write to me, that to appease my woe,
+    I reade ore those, you writ a yeare agoe,
+    Which are to me, as though they had bin made,
+    Long time before the first _Olympiad_.
+      For thankes and curt'sies sell your presence then
+    To tatling Women, and to things like men,                        100
+    And be more foolish then the _Indians_ are
+    For Bells, for Kniues, for Glasses, and such ware,
+    That sell their Pearle and Gold, but here I stay,
+    So I would not haue you but come away.
+
+
+To Master GEORGE SANDYS
+
+_Treasurer for the English Colony in_ VIRGINIA
+
+      Friend, if you thinke my Papers may supplie
+    You, with some strange omitted Noueltie,
+    Which others Letters yet haue left vntould,
+    You take me off, before I can take hould
+    Of you at all; I put not thus to Sea,
+    For two monthes Voyage to _Virginia_,
+    With newes which now, a little something here,
+    But will be nothing ere it can come there.
+    I feare, as I doe Stabbing; this word, State,
+    I dare not speake of the _Palatinate_,                            10
+    Although some men make it their hourely theame,
+    And talke what's done in _Austria_, and in _Beame_,
+    I may not so; what _Spinola_ intends,
+    Nor with his _Dutch_, which way Prince _Maurice_ bends;
+    To other men, although these things be free,
+    Yet (GEORGE) they must be misteries to mee.
+      I scarce dare praise a vertuous friend that's dead,
+    Lest for my lines he should be censured;
+    It was my hap before all other men
+    To suffer shipwrack by my forward pen:                            20
+    When King IAMES entred; at which ioyfull time
+    I taught his title to this Ile in rime:
+    And to my part did all the Muses win,
+    With high-pitch _P�ans_ to applaud him in:
+    When cowardise had tyed vp euery tongue,
+    And all stood silent, yet for him I sung;
+    And when before by danger I was dar'd,
+    I kick'd her from me, nor a iot I spar'd.
+    Yet had not my cleere spirit in Fortunes scorne,
+    Me aboue earth and her afflictions borne;                         30
+    He next my God on whom I built my trust,
+    Had left me troden lower then the dust:
+    But let this passe; in the extreamest ill,
+    _Apollo's_ brood must be couragious still,
+    Let Pies, and Dawes, sit dumb before their death,
+    Onely the Swan sings at the parting breath.
+    And (worthy GEORGE) by industry and vse,
+    Let's see what lines _Virginia_ will produce;
+    Goe on with OVID, as you haue begunne,
+    With the first fiue Bookes; let your numbers run                  40
+    Glib as the former, so shall it liue long,
+    And doe much honour to the _English_ tongue:
+    Intice the Muses thither to repaire,
+    Intreat them gently, trayne them to that ayre,
+    For they from hence may thither hap to fly,
+    T'wards the sad time which but to fast doth hie,
+    For Poesie is follow'd with such spight,
+    By groueling drones that neuer raught her height,
+    That she must hence, she may no longer staye:
+    The driery fates prefixed haue the day,                           50
+    Of her departure, which is now come on,
+    And they command her straight wayes to be gon;
+    That bestiall heard so hotly her pursue,
+    And to her succour, there be very few,
+    Nay none at all, her wrongs that will redresse,
+    But she must wander in the wildernesse,
+    Like to the woman, which that holy IOHN
+    Beheld in _Pathmos_ in his vision.
+      As th' _English_ now, so did the stiff-neckt _Iewes_,
+    Their noble Prophets vtterly refuse,                              60
+    And of these men such poore opinions had;
+    They counted _Esay_ and _Ezechiel_ mad;
+    When _Ieremy_ his Lamentations writ,
+    They thought the Wizard quite out of his wit,
+    Such sots they were, as worthily to ly,
+    Lock't in the chaines of their captiuity,
+    Knowledge hath still her Eddy in her Flow,
+    So it hath beene, and it will still be so.
+      That famous _Greece_ where learning flourisht most,
+    Hath of her muses long since left to boast,                       70
+    Th' vnlettered _Turke_, and rude _Barbarian_ trades,
+    Where HOMER sang his lofty _Iliads_;
+    And this vaste volume of the world hath taught,
+    Much may to passe in little time be brought.
+      As if to _Symptoms_ we may credit giue,
+    This very time, wherein we two now liue,
+    Shall in the compasse, wound the Muses more,
+    Then all the old _English_ ignorance before;
+    Base Balatry is so belou'd and sought,
+    And those braue numbers are put by for naught,                    80
+    Which rarely read, were able to awake,
+    Bodyes from graues, and to the ground to shake
+    The wandring clouds, and to our men at armes,
+    'Gainst pikes and muskets were most powerfull charmes.
+    That, but I know, insuing ages shall,
+    Raise her againe, who now is in her fall;
+    And out of dust reduce our scattered rimes,
+    Th' reiected iewels of these slothfull times,
+    Who with the Muses would misspend an hower,
+    But let blind Gothish Barbarisme deuoure                          90
+    These feuerous Dogdays, blest by no record,
+    But to be euerlastingly abhord.
+      If you vouchsafe rescription, stuffe your quill
+    With naturall bountyes, and impart your skill,
+    In the description of the place, that I,
+    May become learned in the soyle thereby;
+    Of noble _Wyats_ health, and let me heare,
+    The Gouernour; and how our people there,
+    Increase and labour, what supplyes are sent,
+    Which I confesse shall giue me much content;                     100
+    But you may saue your labour if you please,
+    To write to me ought of your Sauages.
+    As sauage slaues be in great _Britaine_ here,
+    As any one that you can shew me there
+    And though for this, Ile say I doe not thirst,
+    Yet I should like it well to be the first,
+    Whose numbers hence into _Virginia_ flew,
+    So (noble _Sandis_) for this time adue.
+
+
+To my noble friend Master WILLIAM BROWNE, _of the euill time_
+
+              Deare friend, be silent and with patience see,
+            What this mad times Catastrophe will be;
+            The worlds first Wisemen certainly mistooke
+            Themselues, and spoke things quite beside the booke,
+            And that which they haue of said of God, vntrue,
+            Or else expect strange iudgement to insue.
+              This Isle is a meere Bedlam, and therein,
+            We all lye rauing, mad in euery sinne,
+            And him the wisest most men use to call,
+            Who doth (alone) the maddest thing of all;                10
+            He whom the master of all wisedome found,
+            For a marckt foole, and so did him propound,
+            The time we liue in, to that passe is brought,
+            That only he a Censor now is thought;
+            And that base villaine, (not an age yet gone,)
+            Which a good man would not haue look'd vpon;
+            Now like a God, with diuine worship follow'd,
+            And all his actions are accounted hollow'd.
+              This world of ours, thus runneth vpon wheeles,
+            Set on the head, bolt vpright with her heeles;            20
+            Which makes me thinke of what the _Ethnicks_ told
+            Th' opinion, the Pythagorists vphold,
+Wander      That the immortall soule doth transmigrate;
+From body   Then I suppose by the strong power of fate,
+to body.    And since that time now many a lingering yeare,
+            Through fools, and beasts, and lunatiques haue past,
+            Are heere imbodyed in this age at last,
+            And though so long we from that time be gone,
+            Yet taste we still of that confusion.
+            For certainely there's scarse one found that now,         30
+            Knowes what t' approoue, or what to disallow,
+            All arsey varsey, nothing is it's owne,
+            But to our prouerbe, all turnd vpside downe;
+            To doe in time, is to doe out of season,
+            And that speeds best, thats done the farth'st from reason,
+            Hee 's high'st that 's low'st, hee 's surest in that 's out,
+            He hits the next way that goes farth'st about,
+            He getteth vp vnlike to rise at all,
+            He slips to ground as much vnlike to fall;
+            Which doth inforce me partly to prefer,                   40
+_Zeno._     The opinion of that mad Philosopher,
+            Who taught, that those all-framing powers aboue,
+            (As 'tis suppos'd) made man not out of loue
+            To him at all, but only as a thing,
+            To make them sport with, which they vse to bring
+            As men doe munkeys, puppets, and such tooles
+            Of laughter: so men are but the Gods fooles.
+            Such are by titles lifted to the sky,
+            As wherefore no man knowes, God scarcely why;
+            The vertuous man depressed like a stone,                  50
+            For that dull Sot to raise himselfe vpon;
+            He who ne're thing yet worthy man durst doe,
+            Neuer durst looke vpon his countrey's foe,
+            Nor durst attempt that action which might get
+            Him fame with men: or higher might him set
+            Then the base begger (rightly if compar'd;)
+            This Drone yet neuer braue attempt that dar'd,
+            Yet dares be knighted, and from thence dares grow
+            To any title Empire can bestow;
+            For this beleeue, that Impudence is now                   60
+            A Cardinall vertue, and men it allow
+            Reuerence, nay more, men study and inuent
+            New wayes, nay, glory to be impudent.
+              Into the clouds the Deuill lately got,
+            And by the moisture doubting much the rot,
+            A medicine tooke to make him purge and cast;
+            Which in short time began to worke so fast,
+            That he fell too 't, and from his backeside flew,
+            A rout of rascall a rude ribauld crew
+            Of base Plebeians, which no sooner light,                 70
+            Vpon the earth, but with a suddaine flight,
+            They spread this Ile, and as _Deucalion_ once
+            Ouer his shoulder backe, by throwing stones
+            They became men, euen so these beasts became,
+            Owners of titles from an obscure name.
+              He that by riot, of a mighty rent,
+            Hath his late goodly Patrimony spent,
+            And into base and wilfull beggery run
+            This man as he some glorious acte had done,
+            With some great pension, or rich guift releeu'd,          80
+            When he that hath by industry atchieu'd
+            Some noble thing, contemned and disgrac'd,
+            In the forlorne hope of the times is plac'd,
+            As though that God had carelessely left all
+            That being hath on this terrestriall ball,
+            To fortunes guiding, nor would haue to doe
+            With man, nor aught that doth belong him to,
+            Or at the least God hauing giuen more
+            Power to the Deuill, then he did of yore,
+            Ouer this world: the feind as he doth hate                90
+            The vertuous man; maligning his estate,
+            All noble things, and would haue by his will,
+            To be damn'd with him, vsing all his skill,
+            By his blacke hellish ministers to vexe
+            All worthy men, and strangely to perplexe
+            Their constancie, there by them so to fright,
+            That they should yeeld them wholely to his might.
+            But of these things I vainely doe but tell,
+            Where hell is heauen, and heau'n is now turn'd hell;
+            Where that which lately blasphemy hath bin,              100
+            Now godlinesse, much lesse accounted sin;
+            And a long while I greatly meruail'd why
+            Buffoons and Bawdes should hourely multiply,
+            Till that of late I construed it that they
+            To present thrift had got the perfect way,
+            When I concluded by their odious crimes,
+            It was for vs no thriuing in these times.
+              As men oft laugh at little Babes, when they
+            Hap to behold some strange thing in their play,
+            To see them on the suddaine strucken sad,                110
+            As in their fancie some strange formes they had,
+            Which they by pointing with their fingers showe,
+            Angry at our capacities so slowe,
+            That by their countenance we no sooner learne
+            To see the wonder which they so discerne:
+            So the celestiall powers doe sit and smile
+            At innocent and vertuous men the while,
+            They stand amazed at the world ore-gone,
+            So farre beyond imagination,
+            With slauish basenesse, that the silent sit              120
+            Pointing like children in describing it.
+              Then noble friend the next way to controule
+            These worldly crosses, is to arme thy soule
+            With constant patience: and with thoughts as high
+            As these be lowe, and poore, winged to flye
+            To that exalted stand, whether yet they
+            Are got with paine, that sit out of the way
+            Of this ignoble age, which raiseth none
+            But such as thinke their black damnation
+            To be a trifle; such, so ill, that when                  130
+            They are aduanc'd, those few poore honest men
+            That yet are liuing, into search doe runne
+            To finde what mischiefe they haue lately done,
+            Which so preferres them; say thou he doth rise,
+            That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise.
+            And in this base world come what euer shall,
+            Hees worth lamenting, that for her doth fall.
+
+
+Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord SHEFFIELD, _drowned in
+HVMBER_
+
+      Light Sonnets hence, and to loose Louers flie,
+    And mournfull Maydens sing an Elegie
+    On those three SHEFFIELDS, ouer-whelm'd with waues,
+    Whose losse the teares of all the Muses craues;
+    A thing so full of pitty as this was,
+    Me thinkes for nothing should not slightly passe.
+    Treble this losse was, why should it not borrowe,
+    Through this Iles treble parts, a treble sorrowe:
+    But Fate did this, to let the world to knowe,
+    That sorrowes which from common causes growe,                     10
+    Are not worth mourning for, the losse to beare,
+    But of one onely sonne, 's not worth one teare.
+    Some tender-hearted man, as I, may spend
+    Some drops (perhaps) for a deceased friend.
+    Some men (perhaps) their Wifes late death may rue;
+    Or Wifes their Husbands, but such be but fewe.
+    Cares that haue vs'd the hearts of men to tuch
+    So oft, and deepely, will not now be such;
+    Who'll care for loss of maintenance, or place,
+    Fame, liberty, or of the Princes grace;                           20
+    Or sutes in law, by base corruption crost,
+    When he shall finde, that this which he hath lost,
+    Alas, is nothing to his, which did lose,
+    Three sonnes at once so excellent as those:
+    Nay, it is feard that this in time may breed
+    Hard hearts in men to their owne naturall seed;
+    That in respect of this great losse of theirs,
+    Men will scarce mourne the death of their owne heires.
+      Through all this Ile their losse so publique is,
+    That euery man doth take them to be his,                          30
+    And as a plague which had beginning there,
+    So catching is, and raigning euery where,
+    That those the farthest off as much doe rue them,
+    As those the most familiarly that knew them;
+    Children with this disaster are wext sage,
+    And like to men that strucken are in age;
+    Talke what it is, three children at one time
+    Thus to haue drown'd, and in their very prime;
+    Yea, and doe learne to act the same so well,
+    That then olde folke, they better can it tell.                    40
+    Inuention, oft that Passion vs'd to faine,
+    In sorrowes of themselves but slight, and meane,
+    To make them seeme great, here it shall not need,
+    For that this Subiect doth so farre exceed
+    All forc'd Expression, that what Poesie shall
+    Happily thinke to grace it selfe withall,
+    Falls so belowe it, that it rather borrowes
+    Grace from their griefe, then addeth to their sorrowes,
+    For sad mischance thus in the losse of three,
+    To shewe it selfe the vtmost it could bee:                        50
+    Exacting also by the selfe same lawe,
+    The vtmost teares that sorrowe had to drawe
+    All future times hath vtterly preuented
+    Of a more losse, or more to be lamented.
+      Whilst in faire youth they liuely flourish'd here,
+    To their kinde Parents they were onely deere:
+    But being dead, now euery one doth take
+    Them for their owne, and doe like sorrowe make:
+    As for their owne begot, as they pretended
+    Hope in the issue, which should haue discended                    60
+    From them againe; nor here doth end our sorrow,
+    But those of vs, that shall be borne to morrowe
+    Still shall lament them, and when time shall count,
+    To what vast number passed yeares shall mount,
+    They from their death shall duly reckon so,
+    As from the Deluge, former vs'd to doe.
+      O cruell _Humber_ guilty of their gore,
+    I now beleeue more then I did before
+    The _Brittish_ Story, whence thy name begun
+    Of Kingly _Humber_, an inuading _Hun_,                            70
+    By thee deuoured, for't is likely thou
+    With blood wert Christned, bloud-thirsty till now.
+    The _Ouse_, the _Done_, and thou farre clearer _Trent_,
+    To drowne the SHEFFIELDS as you gaue consent,
+    Shall curse the time, that ere you were infus'd,
+    Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd.
+    The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe,
+    And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro.
+    The very best part of whose soule, and bloud,
+    Compared with theirs, is viler then your mud.                     80
+    But wherefore paper, doe I idely spend,
+    On those deafe waters to so little end,
+    And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke,
+    In which, as in an euerlasting booke,
+    Our ends are written; O let times rehearse
+    Their fatall losse, in their sad Aniuerse.
+
+
+To the noble Lady, the Lady I.S. _of worldly crosses_
+
+      Madame, to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine,
+    Neither that I would haue you entertaine
+    The time in reading me, which you would spend
+    In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend,
+    I write not to you. Nay, and which is more,
+    My powerfull verses striue not to restore,
+    What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd,
+    To other ends my Elegie is squar'd.
+      Your beauty, sweetnesse, and your gracefull parts
+    That haue drawne many eyes, wonne many hearts,                    10
+    Of me get little, I am so much man,
+    That let them doe their vtmost that they can,
+    I will resist their forces: and they be
+    Though great to others, yet not so to me.
+    The first time I beheld you, I then sawe
+    That (in it selfe) which had the power to drawe
+    My stayd affection, and thought to allowe
+    You some deale of my heart; but you have now
+    Got farre into it, and you haue the skill
+    (For ought I see) to winne vpon me still.                         20
+      When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne
+    Your many crosses, as in Fortunes scorne,
+    And how neglectfull you have seem'd to be,
+    Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me,
+    I thought you stupid, nor that you had felt
+    Those griefes which (often) I haue scene to melt
+    Another woman into sighes and teares,
+    A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares,
+    But when in you I haue perceiu'd agen,
+    (Noted by me, more then by other men)                             30
+    How feeling and how sensible you are
+    Of your friends sorrowes, and with how much care
+    You seeke to cure them, then my selfe I blame,
+    That I your patience should so much misname,
+    Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne
+    Who feeles anothers griefe, can feele their owne.
+    When straight me thinkes, I heare your patience say,
+    Are you the man that studied _Seneca_:
+    _Plinies_ most learned letters; and must I
+    Read you a Lecture in Philosophie,                                40
+    T'auoid the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you;
+    I'le learne you more, Sir, then your bookes can teach you.
+      Of all your sex, yet neuer did I knowe,
+    Any that yet so actually could showe
+    Such rules for patience, such an easie way,
+    That who so sees it, shall be forc'd to say,
+    Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd,
+    Is of this Lady, in an instant learn'd.
+    It is heauens will that you should wronged be
+    By the malicious, that the world might see                        50
+    Your Doue-like meekenesse; for had the base scumme,
+    The spawne of Fiends, beene in your slander dumbe,
+    Your vertue then had perish'd, neuer priz'd,
+    For that the same you had not exercised;
+    And you had lost the Crowne you haue, and glory,
+    Nor had you beene the subiect of my Story.
+    Whilst they feele Hell, being damned in their hate,
+    Their thoughts like Deuils them excruciate,
+    Which by your noble suffrings doe torment
+    Them with new paines, and giues you this content                  60
+    To see your soule an Innocent, hath suffred,
+    And vp to heauen before your eyes be offred:
+    Your like we in a burning Glasse may see,
+    When the Sunnes rayes therein contracted be
+    Bent on some obiect, which is purely white,
+    We finde that colour doth dispierce the light,
+    And stands vntainted: but if it hath got
+    Some little sully; or the least small spot,
+    Then it soon fiers it; so you still remaine
+    Free, because in you they can finde no staine.                    70
+      God doth not loue them least, on whom he layes
+    The great'st afflictions; but that he will praise
+    Himselfe most in them, and will make them fit,
+    Near'st to himselfe who is the Lambe to sit:
+    For by that touch, like perfect gold he tries them,
+    Who are not his, vntill the world denies them.
+    And your example may work such effect,
+    That it may be the beginning of a Sect
+    Of patient women; and that many a day
+    All Husbands may for you their Founder pray.                      80
+      Nor is to me your Innocence the lesse,
+    In that I see you striue not to suppresse
+    Their barbarous malice; but your noble heart
+    Prepar'd to act so difficult a part,
+    With vnremoued constancie is still
+    The same it was, that of your proper ill,
+    The effect proceeds from your owne selfe the cause,
+    Like some iust Prince, who to establish lawes,
+    Suffers the breach at his best lou'd to strike,
+    To learne the vulgar to endure the like.                          90
+    You are a Martir thus, nor can you be
+    Lesse to the world so valued by me:
+    If as you haue begun, you still perseuer
+    Be euer good, that I may loue you euer.
+
+
+An Elegie vpon the death of the Lady PENELOPE CLIFTON
+
+      Must I needes write, who's hee that can refuse,
+    He wants a minde, for her that hath no Muse,
+    The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire,
+    Next powerfull, to those clouen tongues of fire.
+      Since I knew ought time neuer did allowe
+    Me stuffe fit for an Elegie, till now;
+    When _France_ and _England's_ HENRIES dy'd, my quill,
+    Why, I know not, but it that time lay still.
+    'Tis more then greatnesse that my spirit must raise,
+    To obserue custome I vse not to praise;                           10
+    Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended,
+    On any one from whom she was descended;
+    That for their fauour I this way should wooe,
+    As some poor wretched things (perhaps) may doe;
+    I gaine the end, whereat I onely ayme,
+    If by my freedome, I may giue her fame.
+      Walking then forth being newly vp from bed,
+    O Sir (quoth one) the Lady CLIFTON'S dead.
+    When, but that reason my sterne rage withstood,
+    My hand had sure beene guilty of his blood.                       20
+    If shee be so, must thy rude tongue confesse it
+    (Quoth I) and com'st so coldly to expresse it.
+    Thou shouldst haue giuen a shreeke, to make me feare thee;
+    That might haue slaine what euer had beene neere thee.
+    Thou shouldst haue com'n like Time with thy scalpe bare,
+    And in thy hands thou shouldst haue brought thy haire,
+    Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke,
+    As seene a spirit, or th'adst beene thunder-strooke,
+    And gazing on me so a little space,
+    Thou shouldst haue shot thine eye balls in my face,               30
+    Then falling at my feet, thou shouldst haue said,
+    O she is gone, and Nature with her dead.
+      With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past,
+    By that neere Groue, whereas both first and last,
+    I saw her, not three moneths before shee di'd.
+    When (though full Summer gan to vaile her pride,
+    And that I sawe men leade home ripened Corne,
+    Besides aduis'd me well,) I durst haue sworne
+    The lingring yeare, the Autumne had adiourn'd,
+    And the fresh Spring had beene againe return'd,                   40
+    Her delicacie, louelinesse, and grace,
+    With such a Summer brauery deckt the place:
+    But now alas, it lookt forlorne and dead;
+    And where she stood, the fading leaues were shed,
+    Presenting onely sorrowe to my sight,
+    O God (thought I) this is her Embleme right.
+    And sure I thinke it cannot but be thought,
+    That I to her by prouidence was brought.
+    For that the Fates fore-dooming, shee should die,
+    Shewed me this wondrous Master peece, that I                      50
+    Should sing her Funerall, that the world should know it,
+    That heauen did thinke her worthy of a Poet;
+    My hand is fatall, nor doth fortune doubt,
+    For what it writes, not fire shall ere race out.
+    A thousand silken Puppets should haue died,
+    And in their fulsome Coffins putrified,
+    Ere in my lines, you of their names should heare
+    To tell the world that such there euer were,
+    Whose memory shall from the earth decay,
+    Before those Rags be worne they gaue away:                        60
+    Had I her god-like features neuer seene,
+    Poore slight Report had tolde me she had beene
+    A hansome Lady, comely, very well,
+    And so might I haue died an Infidell,
+    As many doe which neuer did her see,
+    Or cannot credit, what she was, by mee.
+      Nature, her selfe, that before Art prefers
+    To goe beyond all our Cosmographers,
+    By Charts and Maps exactly that haue showne,
+    All of this earth that euer can be knowne,                        70
+    For that she would beyond them all descrie
+    What Art could not by any mortall eye;
+    A Map of heauen in her rare features drue,
+    And that she did so liuely and so true,
+    That any soule but seeing it might sweare
+    That all was perfect heauenly that was there.
+    If euer any Painter were so blest,
+    To drawe that face, which so much heau'n exprest,
+    If in his best of skill he did her right,
+    I wish it neuer may come in my sight,                             80
+    I greatly doubt my faith (weake man) lest I
+    Should to that face commit Idolatry.
+      Death might haue tyth'd her sex, but for this one,
+    Nay, haue ta'n halfe to haue let her alone;
+    Such as their wrinkled temples to supply,
+    Cyment them vp with sluttish _Mercury_,
+    Such as vndrest were able to affright,
+    A valiant man approching him by night;
+    Death might haue taken such, her end deferd,
+    Vntill the time she had beene climaterd;                          90
+    When she would haue bin at threescore yeares and three,
+    Such as our best at three and twenty be,
+    With enuie then, he might haue ouerthrowne her,
+    When age nor time had power to ceaze vpon her.
+      But when the vnpittying Fates her end decreed,
+    They to the same did instantly proceed,
+    For well they knew (if she had languish'd so)
+    As those which hence by naturall causes goe,
+    So many prayers, and teares for her had spoken,
+    As certainly their Iron lawes had broken,                        100
+    And had wak'd heau'n, who clearely would haue show'd
+    That change of Kingdomes to her death it ow'd;
+    And that the world still of her end might thinke,
+    It would haue let some Neighbouring mountaine sinke.
+    Or the vast Sea it in on vs to cast,
+    As _Seuerne_ did about some fiue yeares past:
+    Or some sterne Comet his curld top to reare,
+    Whose length should measure halfe our Hemisphere.
+    Holding this height, to say some will not sticke,
+    That now I raue, and am growne lunatique:                        110
+    You of what sexe so ere you be, you lye,
+    'Tis thou thy selfe is lunatique, not I.
+    I charge you in her name that now is gone,
+    That may coniure you, if you be not stone,
+    That you no harsh, nor shallow rimes decline,
+    Vpon that day wherein you shall read mine.
+    Such as indeed are falsely termed verse,
+    And will but sit like mothes vpon her herse;
+    Nor that no child, nor chambermaide, nor page,
+    Disturbe the Rome, the whilst my sacred rage,                    120
+    In reading is; but whilst you heare it read,
+    Suppose, before you, that you see her dead,
+    The walls about you hung with mournfull blacke,
+    And nothing of her funerall to lacke,
+    And when this period giues you leaue to pause,
+    Cast vp your eyes, and sigh for my applause.
+
+
+Vpon the noble Lady ASTONS _departure for Spaine_
+
+                I many a time haue greatly marueil'd, why
+              Men say, their friends depart when as they die,
+              How well that word, a dying, doth expresse,
+              I did not know (I freely must confesse,)
+              Till her departure: for whose missed sight,
+              I am enforc'd this Elegy to write:
+              But since resistlesse fate will haue it so,
+              That she from hence must to _Iberia_ goe,
+              And my weak wishes can her not detaine,
+              I will of heauen in policy complaine,                   10
+              That it so long her trauell should adiourne,
+              Hoping thereby to hasten her returne.
+The witches     Can those of _Norway_ for their wage procure,
+of the        By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure
+Northerly     Till from aboard the wished land men see,
+legions sell  And fetch the harbour, where they long to be,
+windes to     Can they by charmes doe this and cannot I
+passengers.   Who am the Priest of _Phoebus_, and so hie,
+              Sit in his fauour, winne the Poets god,
+              To send swift _Hermes_ with his snaky rod,              20
+              To _�olus_ Caue, commanding him with care,
+              His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare,
+              And from that howre, wherein shee takes the seas,
+              Nature bring on the quiet _Halcion_ dayes,
+              And in that hower that bird begin her nest,
+              Nay at that very instant, that long rest
+              May seize on _Neptune_, who may still repose,
+              And let that bird nere till that hower disclose,
+              Wherein she landeth, and for all that space
+              Be not a wrinkle seene on _Thetis_ face,                30
+              Onely so much breath with a gentle gale,
+              As by the easy swelling of her saile,
+The nearest   May at *_Sebastians_ safely set her downe
+Harbour of    Where, with her goodnes she may blesse the towne.
+_Spaine_.       If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee
+              Some Pirate, and grimme _Neptune_ thou should'st be
+              His Executioner, or what is his worse,
+              The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse
+              Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake,
+              Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake,             40
+              Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let
+              Them be at ease in some safe harbour set,
+              Where with much profit they may vent their wealth
+              That they haue got by villany and stealth,
+              Rather great _Neptune_, then when thou dost raue,
+              Thou once shouldst wet her saile but with a waue.
+                Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare,
+              To seize the ship wherein she is to fare,
+              Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare,
+              And tell those Sea-thiefes, that once such they were    50
+              As they are now, till they assaid to rape
+An Ile for    Grape-crowned _Bacchus_ in a striplings shape,
+the abundance That came aboard them, and would faine haue saild,
+of wine       To vine-spread *_Naxus_ but that him they faild,
+supposed to   Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made,
+be the        And warnd them how they passengers inuade.
+habitation      Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow
+of _Bachus_.  Autumne is come, there be no flowers to grow,
+              Yea from that place respire, to which she goes,
+              And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes,      60
+              But _Boreas_ and yee Esterne windes arise,
+              To send her soon to _Spaine_, but be precise,
+              That in your aide you seeme not still so sterne,
+              As we a summer should no more discerne,
+              For till that here againe, I may her see,
+              It will be winter all the yeare with mee.
+_Castor_ and    Ye swanne-begotten lonely brother-stars,
+_Polox_ begot So oft auspicious to poore Mariners,
+by _Ioue_ on  Ye twin-bred lights of louely _Leda's_ brood,
+_Leda_ in the _Ioues_ egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood,          70
+forme of a    And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare
+Swanne. A     To be her warrant from all future feare.
+constellation And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good,
+ominous to    May neuer time by wormes, consume thy wood
+Mariners.     Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last,
+              Till they for reliques be in temples plac't;
+              Maist thou be ranged with that mighty Arke,
+              Wherein iust _Noah_ did all the world imbarque,
+              With that which after _Troyes_ so famous wracke,
+              From ten yeares trauell brought _Vlisses_ backe,        80
+              That Argo which to _Colchos_ went from _Greece_,
+              And in her botome brought the goulden fleece
+              Vnder braue _Iason_; or that same of _Drake_,
+              Wherein he did his famous voyage make
+              About the world; or _Candishes_ that went
+              As far as his, about the Continent.
+                And yee milde winds that now I doe implore,
+              Not once to raise the least sand on the shore,
+              Nor once on forfait of your selues respire:
+              When once the time is come of her retire,               90
+              If then it please you, but to doe your due,
+              What for these windes I did, Ile doe for you;
+              Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice,
+              My pen shall prooue you to haue dietyes,
+              Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flow,
+              And tell the storyes of your weale and woe,
+              Ile prooue what profit to the earth you bring,
+              And how t'is you that welcome in the spring;
+              Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show,
+              The time shall be kept holy, when you blow.            100
+              O blessed winds! your will that it may be,
+              To send health to her, and her home to me.
+
+
+To my most dearely-loued friend HENERY REYNOLDS Esquire, of
+_Poets & Poesie_
+
+      My dearely loued friend how oft haue we,
+    In winter evenings (meaning to be free,)
+    To some well-chosen place vs'd to retire;
+    And there with moderate meate, and wine, and fire,
+    Haue past the howres contentedly with chat,
+    Now talk of this, and then discours'd of that,
+    Spoke our owne verses 'twixt our selves, if not
+    Other mens lines, which we by chance had got,
+    Or some Stage pieces famous long before,
+    Of which your happy memory had store;                             10
+    And I remember you much pleased were,
+    Of those who liued long agoe to heare,
+    As well as of those, of these latter times,
+    Who have inricht our language with their rimes,
+    And in succession, how still vp they grew,
+    Which is the subiect, that I now pursue;
+    For from my cradle, (you must know that) I,
+    Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie,
+    And when that once _Pueriles_ I had read,
+    And newly had my _Cato_ construed,                                20
+    In my small selfe I greatly marueil'd then,
+    Amonst all other, what strange kinde of men
+    These Poets were; And pleased with the name,
+    To my milde Tutor merrily I came,
+    (For I was then a proper goodly page,
+    Much like a Pigmy, scarse ten yeares of age)
+    Clasping my slender armes about his thigh.
+    O my deare master! cannot you (quoth I)
+    Make me a Poet, doe it if you can,
+    And you shall see, Ile quickly bee a man,                         30
+    Who me thus answered smiling, boy quoth he,
+    If you'le not play the wag, but I may see
+    You ply your learning, I will shortly read
+    Some Poets to you; _Phoebus_ be my speed,
+    Too't hard went I, when shortly he began,
+    And first read to me honest _Mantuan_,
+    Then _Virgils Eglogues_, being entred thus,
+    Me thought I straight had mounted _Pegasus_,
+    And in his full Careere could make him stop,
+    And bound vpon _Parnassus'_ by-clift top.                         40
+    I scornd your ballet then though it were done
+    And had for Finis, _William Elderton_.
+    But soft, in sporting with this childish iest,
+    I from my subiect haue too long digrest,
+    Then to the matter that we tooke in hand,
+    _Ioue_ and _Apollo_ for the _Muses_ stand.
+      Then noble _Chaucer_, in those former times,
+    The first inrich'd our _English_ with his rimes,
+    And was the first of ours, that euer brake,
+    Into the _Muses_ treasure, and first spake                        50
+    In weighty numbers, deluing in the Mine
+    Of perfect knowledge, which he could refine,
+    And coyne for currant, and as much as then
+    The _English_ language could expresse to men,
+    He made it doe; and by his wondrous skill,
+    Gaue vs much light from his abundant quill.
+      And honest _Gower_, who in respect of him,
+    Had only sipt at _Aganippas_ brimme,
+    And though in yeares this last was him before,
+    Yet fell he far short of the others store.                        60
+      When after those, foure ages very neare,
+    They with the _Muses_ which conuersed, were
+    That Princely _Surrey_, early in the time
+    Of the Eight _Henry_, who was then the prime
+    Of _Englands_ noble youth; with him there came
+    _Wyat_; with reuerence whom we still doe name
+    Amongst our Poets, _Brian_ had a share
+    With the two former, which accompted are
+    That times best makers, and the authors were
+    Of those small poems, which the title beare,                      70
+    Of songs and sonnets, wherein oft they hit
+    On many dainty passages of wit.
+      _Gascoine_ and _Churchyard_ after them againe
+    In the beginning of _Eliza's_ raine,
+    Accoumpted were great Meterers many a day,
+    But not inspired with braue fier, had they
+    Liu'd but a little longer, they had seene,
+    Their works before them to have buried beene.
+      Graue morrall _Spencer_ after these came on
+    Then whom I am perswaded there was none                           80
+    Since the blind _Bard_ his _Iliads_ vp did make,
+    Fitter a taske like that to vndertake,
+    To set downe boldly, brauely to inuent,
+    In all high knowledge, surely excellent.
+      The noble _Sidney_ with this last arose,
+    That _Heroe_ for numbers, and for Prose.
+    That throughly pac'd our language as to show,
+    The plenteous _English_ hand in hand might goe
+    With _Greek_ or _Latine_, and did first reduce
+    Our tongue from _Lillies_ writing then in vse;                    90
+    Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of fishes, Flyes,
+    Playing with words, and idle Similies,
+    As th' _English_, Apes and very Zanies be,
+    Of euery thing, that they doe heare and see,
+    So imitating his ridiculous tricks,
+    They spake and writ, all like meere lunatiques.
+      Then _Warner_ though his lines were not so trim'd,
+    Nor yet his Poem so exactly lim'd
+    And neatly ioynted, but the Criticke may
+    Easily reprooue him, yet thus let me say;                        100
+    For my old friend, some passages there be
+    In him, which I protest haue taken me,
+    With almost wonder, so fine, cleere, and new
+    As yet they haue bin equalled by few.
+      Neat _Marlow_ bathed in the _Thespian_ springs
+    Had in him those braue translunary things,
+    That the first Poets had, his raptures were,
+    All ayre, and fire, which made his verses cleere,
+    For that fine madnes still he did retaine,
+    Which rightly should possesse a Poets braine.                    110
+      And surely _Nashe_, though he a Proser were
+    A branch of Lawrell yet deserues to beare,
+    Sharply _Satirick_ was he, and that way
+    He went, since that his being, to this day
+    Few haue attempted, and I surely thinke
+    Those wordes shall hardly be set downe with inke;
+    Shall scorch and blast, so as his could, where he,
+    Would inflict vengeance, and be it said of thee,
+    _Shakespeare_, thou hadst as smooth a Comicke vaine,
+    Fitting the socke, and in thy naturall braine,                   120
+    As strong conception, and as Cleere a rage,
+    As any one that trafiqu'd with the stage.
+      Amongst these _Samuel Daniel_, whom if I
+    May spake of, but to sensure doe denie,
+    Onely haue heard some wisemen him rehearse,
+    To be too much _Historian_ in verse;
+    His rimes were smooth, his meeters well did close
+    But yet his maner better fitted prose:
+    Next these, learn'd _Johnson_, in this List I bring,
+    Who had drunke deepe of the _Pierian_ spring,                    130
+    Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer,
+    And long was Lord here of the Theater,
+    Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke,
+    Whether in Poems rightly dramatique,
+    Strong _Seneca_ or _Plautus_, he or they,
+    Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away.
+    Others againe here liued in my dayes,
+    That haue of vs deserued no lesse praise
+    For their translations, then the daintiest wit
+    That on _Parnassus_ thinks, he highst doth sit,                  140
+    And for a chaire may mongst the Muses call,
+    As the most curious maker of them all;
+    As reuerent _Chapman_, who hath brought to vs,
+    _Mus�us_, _Homer_ and _Hesiodus_
+    Out of the Greeke; and by his skill hath reard
+    Them to that height, and to our tongue endear'd,
+    That were those Poets at this day aliue,
+    To see their bookes thus with vs to suruiue,
+    They would think, hauing neglected them so long,
+    They had bin written in the _English_ tongue.                    150
+      And _Siluester_ who from the _French_ more weake,
+    Made _Bartas_ of his sixe dayes labour speake
+    In naturall _English_, who, had he there stayd,
+    He had done well, and neuer had bewraid
+    His owne inuention, to haue bin so poore
+    Who still wrote lesse, in striuing to write more.
+      Then dainty _Sands_ that hath to _English_ done,
+    Smooth sliding _Ouid_, and hath made him run
+    With so much sweetnesse and vnusuall grace,
+    As though the neatnesse of the _English_ pace,                   160
+    Should tell the Ietting _Lattine_ that it came
+    But slowly after, as though stiff and lame.
+      So _Scotland_ sent vs hither, for our owne
+    That man, whose name I euer would haue knowne,
+    To stand by mine, that most ingenious knight,
+    My _Alexander_, to whom in his right,
+    I want extreamely, yet in speaking thus
+    I doe but shew the loue, that was twixt vs,
+    And not his numbers which were braue and hie,
+    So like his mind, was his clear Poesie,                          170
+    And my deare _Drummond_ to whom much I owe
+    For his much loue, and proud I was to know,
+    His poesie, for which two worthy men,
+    I _Menstry_ still shall loue, and _Hauthorne-den_.
+    Then the two _Beamounts_ and my _Browne_ arose,
+    My deare companions whom I freely chose
+    My bosome friends; and in their seuerall wayes,
+    Rightly borne Poets, and in these last dayes,
+    Men of much note, and no lesse nobler parts,
+    Such as haue freely tould to me their hearts,                    180
+    As I have mine to them; but if you shall
+    Say in your knowledge, that these be not all
+    Haue writ in numbers, be inform'd that I
+    Only my selfe, to these few men doe tye,
+    Whose works oft printed, set on euery post,
+    To publique censure subiect haue bin most;
+    For such whose poems, be they nere so rare,
+    In priuate chambers, that incloistered are,
+    And by transcription daintyly must goe;
+    As though the world vnworthy were to know,                       190
+    Their rich composures, let those men that keepe
+    These wonderous reliques in their iudgement deepe;
+    And cry them vp so, let such Peeces bee
+    Spoke of by those that shall come after me,
+    I passe not for them: nor doe meane to run,
+    In quest of these, that them applause haue wonne,
+    Vpon our Stages in these latter dayes,
+    That are so many, let them haue their bayes
+    That doe deserue it; let those wits that haunt
+    Those publique circuits, let them freely chaunt                  200
+    Their fine Composures, and their praise pursue
+    And so my deare friend, for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of his incomparable _friend Sir_ HENRY RAYNSFORD
+_of_ CLIFFORD
+
+      Could there be words found to expresse my losse,
+    There were some hope, that this my heauy crosse
+    Might be sustained, and that wretched I
+    Might once finde comfort: but to haue him die
+    Past all degrees that was so deare to me;
+    As but comparing him with others, hee
+    Was such a thing, as if some Power should say
+    I'le take Man on me, to shew men the way
+    What a friend should be. But words come so short
+    Of him, that when I thus would him report,                        10
+    I am vndone, and hauing nought to say,
+    Mad at my selfe, I throwe my penne away,
+    And beate my breast, that there should be a woe
+    So high, that words cannot attaine thereto.
+    T'is strange that I from my abundant breast,
+    Who others sorrowes haue so well exprest:
+    Yet I by this in little time am growne
+    So poore, that I want to expresse mine owne.
+    I thinke the Fates perceiuing me to beare
+    My worldly crosses without wit or feare:                          20
+    Nay, with what scorne I euer haue derided,
+    Those plagues that for me they haue oft prouided,
+    Drew them to counsaile; nay, conspired rather,
+    And in this businesse laid their heads together
+    To finde some one plague, that might me subuert,
+    And at an instant breake my stubborne heart;
+    They did indeede, and onely to this end
+    They tooke from me this more then man, or friend.
+      Hard-hearted Fates, your worst thus haue you done,
+    Then let vs see what lastly you haue wonne                        30
+    By this your rigour, in a course so strict,
+    Why see, I beare all that you can inflict:
+    And hee from heauen your poore reuenge to view;
+    Laments my losse of him, but laughes at you,
+    Whilst I against you execrations breath;
+    Thus are you scorn'd aboue, and curst beneath.
+      Me thinks that man (vnhappy though he be)
+    Is now thrice happy in respect of me,
+    Who hath no friend; for that in hauing none
+    He is not stirr'd as I am, to bemone                              40
+    My miserable losse, who but in vaine,
+    May euer looke to find the like againe.
+    This more then mine own selfe; that who had seene
+    His care of me where euer I had beene,
+    And had not knowne his actiue spirit before,
+    Vpon some braue thing working euermore:
+    He would haue sworne that to no other end
+    He had been borne: but onely for my friend.
+    I had been happy if nice Nature had
+    (Since now my lucke falls out to be so bad)                       50
+    Made me vnperfect, either of so soft
+    And yeelding temper, that lamenting oft,
+    I into teares my mournefull selfe might melt;
+    Or else so dull, my losse not to haue felt.
+    I haue by my too deare experience bought,
+    That fooles and mad men, whom I euer thought
+    The most vnhappy, are in deede not so:
+    And therefore I lesse pittie can bestowe
+    (Since that my sence, my sorrowe so can sound)
+    On those in Bedlam that are bound,                                60
+    And scarce feele scourging; and when as I meete
+    A foole by Children followed in the Streete,
+    Thinke I (poor wretch) thou from my griefe art free,
+    Nor couldst thou feele it, should it light on thee;
+    But that I am a _Christian_, and am taught
+    By him who with his precious bloud me bought,
+    Meekly like him my crosses to endure,
+    Else would they please me well, that for their cure,
+    When as they feele their conscience doth them brand,
+    Vpon themselues dare lay a violent hand;                          70
+    Not suffering Fortune with her murdering knife,
+    Stand like a Surgeon working on the life,
+    Deserting this part, that ioynt off to cut,
+    Shewing that Artire, ripping then that gut,
+    Whilst the dull beastly World with her squint eye,
+    Is to behold the strange Anatomie.
+      I am persuaded that those which we read
+    To be man-haters, were not so indeed,
+    The Athenian _Timon_, and beside him more
+    Of which the _Latines_, as the _Greekes_ haue store;              80
+    Nor not did they all humane manners hate,
+    Nor yet maligne mans dignity and state.
+    But finding our fraile life how euery day,
+    It like a bubble vanisheth away:
+    For this condition did mankinde detest,
+    Farre more incertaine then that of the beast.
+      Sure heauen doth hate this world and deadly too,
+    Else as it hath done it would neuer doe,
+    For if it did not, it would ne're permit
+    A man of so much vertue, knowledge, wit,                          90
+    Of naturall goodnesse, supernaturall grace,
+    Whose courses when considerately I trace
+    Into their ends, and diligently looke,
+    They serue me for Oeconomike booke.
+    By which this rough world I not onely stemme,
+    In goodnesse but grow learn'd by reading them.
+      O pardon me, it my much sorrow is,
+    Which makes me vse this long Parenthesis;
+    Had heauen this world not hated as I say,
+    In height of life it had not, tane away                          100
+    A spirit so braue, so actiue, and so free,
+    That such a one who would not wish to bee,
+    Rather then weare a Crowne, by Armes though got,
+    So fast a friend, so true a Patriot.
+    In things concerning both the worlds so wise,
+    Besides so liberall of his faculties,
+    That where he would his industrie bestowe,
+    He would haue done, e're one could think to doe.
+    No more talke of the working of the Starres,
+    For plenty, scarcenesse, or for peace, or Warres:                110
+    They are impostures, therefore get you hence
+    With all your Planets, and their influence.
+    No more doe I care into them to looke,
+    Then in some idle Chiromantick booke,
+    Shewing the line of life, and _Venus_ mount,
+    Nor yet no more would I of them account,
+    Then what that tells me, since what that so ere
+    Might promise man long life: of care and feare,
+    By nature freed, a conscience cleare, and quiet,
+    His health, his constitution, and his diet;                      120
+    Counting a hundred, fourscore at the least,
+    Propt vp by prayers, yet more to be encreast,
+    All these should faile, and in his fiftieth yeare
+    He should expire, henceforth let none be deare,
+    To me at all, lest for my haplesse sake,
+    Before their time heauen from the world them take,
+    And leaue me wretched to lament their ends
+    As I doe his, who was a thousand friends.
+
+
+Vpon the death of the Lady OLIVE STANHOPE
+
+    Canst thou depart and be forgotten so,
+    STANHOPE thou canst not, no deare STANHOPE, no:
+    But in despight of death the world shall see,
+    That Muse which so much graced was by thee
+    Can black Obliuion vtterly out-braue,
+    And set thee vp aboue thy silent Graue.
+    I meruail'd much the _Derbian_ Nimphes were dumbe,
+    Or of those Muses, what should be become,
+    That of all those, the mountaines there among,
+    Not one this while thy _Epicedium_sung;                           10
+    But so it is, when they of thee were reft,
+    They all those hills, and all those Riuers left,
+    And sullen growne, their former seates remoue,
+    Both from cleare _Darwin_, and from siluer _Doue_,
+    And for thy losse, they greeued are so sore,
+    That they haue vow'd they will come there no more;
+    But leaue thy losse to me, that I should rue thee,
+    Vnhappy man, and yet I neuer knew thee:
+    Me thou didst loue vnseene, so did I thee,
+    It was our spirits that lou'd then and not wee;                   20
+    Therefore without profanenesse I may call
+    The loue betwixt vs, loue spirituall:
+    But that which thou affectedst was so true,
+    As that thereby thee perfectly I knew;
+    And now that spirit, which thou so lou'dst, still mine,
+    Shall offer this a Sacrifice to thine,
+    And reare this Trophe, which for thee shall last,
+    When this most beastly Iron age is past;
+    I am perswaded, whilst we two haue slept,
+    Our soules haue met, and to each other wept,                      30
+    That destenie so strongly should forbid,
+    Our bodies to conuerse as oft they did:
+    For certainly refined spirits doe know,
+    As doe the Angels, and doe here belowe
+    Take the fruition of that endlesse blisse,
+    As those aboue doe, and what each one is.
+    They see diuinely, and as those there doe,
+    They know each others wills, so soules can too.
+      About that dismall time, thy spirit hence flew,
+    Mine much was troubled, but why, I not knew,                      40
+    In dull and sleepy sounds, it often left me,
+    As of it selfe it ment to haue bereft me,
+    I asked it what the cause was, of such woe,
+    Or what it might be, that might vexe it so,
+    But it was deafe, nor my demand would here,
+    But when that ill newes came, to touch mine eare,
+    I straightwayes found this watchfull sperit of mine,
+    Troubled had bin to take it leaue of thine,
+    For when fate found, what nature late had done,
+    How much from heauen, she for the earth had won                   50
+    By thy deare birth; said, that it could not be
+    In so yong yeares, what it perceiu'd in thee,
+    But nature sure, had fram'd thee long before;
+    And as Rich Misers of their mighty store,
+    Keepe the most precious longst, so from times past,
+    She onely had reserued thee till the last;
+    So did thy wisedome, not thy youth behold,
+    And tooke thee hence, in thinking thou wast old.
+    Thy shape and beauty often haue to me
+    Bin highly praysed, which I thought might be,                     60
+    Truely reported, for a spirit so braue,
+    Which heauen to thee so bountifully gaue;
+    Nature could not in recompence againe,
+    In some rich lodging but to entertaine.
+    Let not the world report then, that the Peake,
+    Is but a rude place only vast and bleake;
+    And nothing hath to boast of but her Lead,
+    When she can say that happily she bred
+    Thee, and when she shall of her wonders tell
+    Wherein she doth all other Tracts excell,                         70
+    Let her account thee greatst, and still to time
+    Of all the rest, accord thee for the prime.
+
+
+To Master WILLIAM IEFFREYS, Chaplaine to the Lord Ambassa_dour
+in Spaine_
+
+      My noble friend, you challenge me to write
+    To you in verse, and often you recite,
+    My promise to you, and to send you newes;
+    As 'tis a thing I very seldome vse,
+    And I must write of State, if to _Madrid_,
+    A thing our Proclamations here forbid,
+    And that word State such Latitude doth beare,
+    As it may make me very well to feare
+    To write, nay speake at all, these let you know
+    Your power on me, yet not that I will showe                       10
+    The loue I beare you, in that lofty height,
+    So cleere expression, or such words of weight,
+    As into _Spanish_ if they were translated,
+    Might make the Poets of that Realme amated;
+    Yet these my least were, but that you extort
+    These numbers from me, when I should report
+    In home-spunne prose, in good plaine honest words
+    The newes our wofull _England_ vs affords.
+      The Muses here sit sad, and mute the while
+    A sort of swine vnseasonably defile                               20
+    Those sacred springs, which from the by-clift hill
+    Dropt their pure _Nectar_ into euery quill;
+    In this with State, I hope I doe not deale,
+    This onely tends the Muses common-weale.
+      What canst thou hope, or looke for from his pen,
+    Who liues with beasts, though in the shapes of men,
+    And what a poore few are we honest still,
+    And dare to be so, when all the world is ill.
+      I finde this age of our markt with this Fate,
+    That honest men are still precipitate                             30
+    Vnder base villaines, which till th' earth can vent
+    This her last brood, and wholly hath them spent,
+    Shall be so, then in reuolution shall
+    Vertue againe arise by vices fall;
+    But that shall I not see, neither will I
+    Maintaine this, as one doth a Prophesie,
+    That our King _Iames_ to _Rome_ shall surely goe,
+    And from his chaire the _Pope_ shall ouerthrow.
+    But O this world is so giuen vp to hell,
+    That as the old Giants, which did once rebell,                    40
+    Against the Gods, so this now-liuing race
+    Dare sin, yet stand, and Ieere heauen in the face.
+      But soft my Muse, and make a little stay,
+    Surely thou art not rightly in thy way,
+    To my good _Ieffrayes_ was not I about
+    To write, and see, I suddainely am out,
+    This is pure _Satire_, that thou speak'st, and I
+    Was first in hand to write an Elegie.
+    To tell my countreys shame I not delight.
+    But doe bemoane 't I am no _Democrite_:                           50
+    O God, though Vertue mightily doe grieue
+    For all this world, yet will I not beleeue
+    But that shees faire and louely, and that she
+    So to the period of the world shall be;
+    Else had she beene forsaken (sure) of all,
+    For that so many sundry mischiefes fall
+    Vpon her dayly, and so many take
+    Armes vp against her, as it well might make
+    Her to forsake her nature, and behind,
+    To leaue no step for future time to find,                         60
+    As she had neuer beene, for he that now
+    Can doe her most disgrace, him they alow
+    The times chiefe Champion, and he is the man,
+    The prize, and Palme that absolutely wanne,
+    For where Kings Clossets her free seat hath bin
+    She neere the Lodge, not suffered is to Inne,
+    For ignorance against her stands in state,
+    Like some great porter at a Pallace gate;
+    So dull and barbarous lately are we growne,
+    And there are some this slauery that haue sowne,                  70
+    That for mans knowledge it enough doth make,
+    If he can learne, to read an Almanacke;
+    By whom that trash of _Amadis de Gaule_,
+    Is held an author most authenticall,
+    And things we haue like Noblemen that be
+    In little time, which I haue hope to see
+    Vpon their foot-clothes, as the streets they ride
+    To haue their hornebookes at their girdles ti'd.
+    But all their superfluity of spite
+    On vertues hand-maid Poesy doth light,                            80
+    And to extirpe her all their plots they lay,
+    But to her ruine they shall misse the way,
+    For his alone the Monuments of wit,
+    Aboue the rage of Tyrants that doe sit,
+    And from their strength, not one himselfe can saue,
+    But they shall tryumph o'r his hated graue.
+      In my conceipt, friend, thou didst neuer see
+    A righter Madman then thou hast of me,
+    For now as _Elegiack_ I bewaile
+    These poor base times; then suddainely I raile                    90
+    And am _Satirick_, not that I inforce
+    My selfe to be so, but euen as remorse,
+    Or hate, in the proud fulnesse of their hight
+    Master my fancy, iust so doe I write.
+      But gentle friend as soone shall I behold
+    That stone of which so many haue vs tould,
+    (Yet neuer any to this day could make)
+    The great _Elixar_ or to vndertake
+    The _Rose-crosse_ knowledge which is much like that
+    A Tarrying-iron for fooles to labour at,                         100
+    As euer after I may hope to see,
+    (A plague vpon this beastly world for me,)
+    Wit so respected as it was of yore;
+    And if hereafter any it restore,
+    It must be those that yet for many a yeare,
+    Shall be vnborne that must inhabit here,
+    And such in vertue as shall be asham'd
+    Almost to heare their ignorant Grandsires nam'd,
+    With whom so many noble spirits then liu'd,
+    That were by them of all reward depriu'd.                        110
+      My noble friend, I would I might haue quit
+    This age of these, and that I might haue writ,
+    Before all other, how much the braue pen,
+    Had here bin honoured of the _English_ men;
+    Goodnesse and knowledge, held by them in prise,
+    How hatefull to them Ignorance and vice;
+    But it falls out the contrary is true,
+    And so my _Ieffreyes_ for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of Mistris ELIANOR FALLOWFIELD
+
+      Accursed Death, what neede was there at all
+    Of thee, or who to councell thee did call;
+    The subiect whereupon these lines I spend
+    For thee was most vnfit, her timelesse end
+    Too soone thou wroughtst, too neere her thou didst stand;
+    Thou shouldst haue lent thy leane and meager hand
+    To those who oft the help thereof beseech,
+    And can be cured by no other Leech.
+      In this wide world how many thousands be,
+    That hauing past fourescore, doe call for thee.                   10
+    The wretched debtor in the Iayle that lies,
+    Yet cannot this his Creditor suffice
+    Doth woe thee oft with many a sigh and teare,
+    Yet thou art coy, and him thou wilt not heare.
+    The Captiue slaue that tuggeth at the Oares,
+    And vnderneath the Bulls tough sinewes rores,
+    Begs at thy hand, in lieu of all his paines,
+    That thou wouldst but release him of his chaines;
+    Yet thou a niggard listenest not thereto,
+    With one short gaspe which thou mightst easily do,                20
+    But thou couldst come to her ere there was neede,
+    And euen at once destroy both flower and seede.
+      But cruell Death if thou so barbarous be,
+    To those so goodly, and so young as shee;
+    That in their teeming thou wilt shew thy spight;
+    Either from marriage thou wilt Maides affright,
+    Or in their wedlock, Widowes liues to chuse
+    Their Husbands bed, and vtterly refuse,
+    Fearing conception; so shalt thou thereby
+    Extirpate mankinde by thy cruelty.                                30
+      If after direfull Tragedy thou thirst,
+    Extinguish _Himens_ Torches at the first;
+    Build Funerall pyles, and the sad pauement strewe,
+    With mournfull Cypresse, and the pale-leau'd Yewe.
+    Away with Roses, Myrtle, and with Bayes;
+    Ensignes of mirth, and iollity, as these;
+    Neuer at Nuptials vsed be againe,
+    But from the Church the new Bride entertaine
+    With weeping _Nenias_, euer and among,
+    As at departings be sad _Requiems_ song.                          40
+      _Lucina_ by th' olde Poets that wert sayd,
+    Women in Childe-birth euermore to ayde,
+    Because thine Altars, long haue layne neglected:
+    Nor as they should, thy holy fiers reflected
+    Vpon thy Temples, therefore thou doest flye,
+    And wilt not helpe them in necessitie.
+      Thinking vpon thee, I doe often muse,
+    Whether for thy deare sake I should accuse
+    Nature or Fortune, Fortune then I blame,
+    And doe impute it as her greatest shame,                          50
+    To hast thy timelesse end, and soone agen
+    I vexe at Nature, nay I curse her then,
+    That at the time of need she was no stronger,
+    That we by her might haue enioy'd thee longer.
+      But whilst of these I with my selfe debate,
+    I call to minde how flinty-hearted Fate
+    Seaseth the olde, the young, the faire, the foule,
+    No thing on earth can Destinie controule:
+    But yet that Fate which hath of life bereft thee,
+    Still to eternall memory hath left thee,                          60
+    Which thou enioy'st by the deserued breath,
+    That many a great one hath not after death.
+
+
+
+
+NIMPHIDIA
+
+
+THE COVRT OF FAYRIE
+
+    Olde CHAVCER doth of _Topas_ tell,
+    Mad RABLAIS of Pantagruell,
+    A latter third of _Dowsabell_,
+      With such poore trifles playing:
+    Others the like haue laboured at
+    Some of this thing, and some of that,
+    And many of they know not what,
+      But that they must be saying.
+
+    Another sort there bee, that will
+    Be talking of the Fayries still,                                  10
+    Nor neuer can they have their fill,
+      As they were wedded to them;
+    No Tales of them their thirst can slake,
+    So much delight therein they take,
+    And some strange thing they fame would make,
+      Knew they the way to doe them.
+
+    Then since no Muse hath bin so bold,
+    Or of the Later, or the ould,
+    Those Eluish secrets to vnfold,
+      Which lye from others reading,                                  20
+    My actiue Muse to light shall bring,
+    The court of that proud Fayry King,
+    And tell there, of the Reuelling,
+      _Ioue_ prosper my proceeding.
+
+    And thou NIMPHIDIA gentle F_ay_,
+    Which meeting me vpon the way,
+    These secrets didst to me bewray,
+      Which now I am in telling:
+    My pretty light fantastick mayde,
+    I here inuoke thee to my ayde,                                    30
+    That I may speake what thou hast sayd,
+      In numbers smoothly swelling.
+
+    This Pallace standeth in the Ayre,
+    By Nigromancie placed there,
+    That it no Tempests needs to feare,
+      Which way so ere it blow it.
+    And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone,
+    Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone,
+    And thence the _Fayrie_ can as soone
+      Passe to the earth below it.                                    40
+
+    The Walls of Spiders legs are made,
+    Well mortized and finely layd,
+    He was the master of his Trade
+      It curiously that builded:
+    The Windowes of the eyes of Cats,
+    And for the Roofe, instead of Slats,
+    Is couer'd with the skinns of Batts,
+      With Mooneshine that are guilded.
+
+    Hence _Oberon_ him sport to make,
+    (Their rest when weary mortalls take)                             50
+    And none but onely _Fayries_ wake,
+      Desendeth for his pleasure.
+    And _Mab_ his meerry Queene by night
+    Bestrids young Folks that lye vpright,
+    (In elder Times the _Mare_ that hight)
+      Which plagues them out of measure.
+
+    Hence Shaddowes, seeming Idle shapes,
+    Of little frisking Elues and Apes,
+    To Earth doe make their wanton skapes,
+      As hope of pastime hasts them:                                  60
+    Which maydes think on the Hearth they see,
+    When Fyers well nere consumed be,
+    Their daunsing Hayes by two and three,
+      Iust as their Fancy casts them.
+
+    These make our Girles their sluttery rue,
+    By pinching them both blacke and blew,
+    And put a penny in their shue,
+      The house for cleanely sweeping:
+    And in their courses make that Round,
+    In Meadowes, and in Marshes found,                                70
+    Of them so call'd the _Fayrie_ ground,
+      Of which they haue the keeping.
+
+    Thus when a Childe haps to be gott,
+    Which after prooues an Ideott,
+    When Folke perceiue it thriueth not,
+      The fault therein to smother:
+    Some silly doting brainlesse Calfe,
+    That vnderstands things by the halfe,
+    Say that the _Fayrie_ left this Aulfe,
+      And tooke away the other.                                       80
+
+    But listen and I shall you tell,
+    A chance in _Fayrie_ that befell,
+    Which certainly may please some well;
+      In Loue and Armes delighting:
+    Of _Oberon_ that Iealous grewe,
+    Of one of his owne _Fayrie_ crue,
+    Too well (he fear'd) his Queene that knew,
+      His loue but ill requiting.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ was this _Fayrie_ knight,
+    One wondrous gratious in the sight                                90
+    Of faire Queene _Mab_, which day and night,
+      He amorously obserued;
+    Which made king _Oberon_ suspect,
+    His Seruice tooke too good effect,
+    His saucinesse, and often checkt,
+      And could have wisht him starued.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ gladly would commend,
+    Some token to queene _Mab_ to send,
+    If Sea, or Land, him ought could lend,
+      Were worthy of her wearing:                                    100
+    At length this Louer doth deuise,
+    A Bracelett made of Emmotts eyes,
+    A thing he thought that shee would prize,
+      No whitt her state impayring.
+
+    And to the Queene a Letter writes,
+    Which he most curiously endites,
+    Coniuring her by all the rites
+      Of loue, she would be pleased,
+    To meete him her true Seruant, where
+    They might without suspect or feare,                             110
+    Themselues to one another cleare,
+      And haue their poore hearts eased.
+
+    At mid-night the appointed hower,
+    And for the Queene a fitting bower,
+    (Quoth he) is that faire Cowslip flower,
+      On _Hipcut_ hill that groweth,
+    In all your Trayne there's not a _Fay_,
+    That euer went to gather May,
+    But she hath made it in her way,
+      The tallest there that groweth.                                120
+
+    When by _Tom Thum_ a Fayrie Page,
+    He sent it, and doth him engage,
+    By promise of a mighty wage,
+      It secretly to carrie:
+    Which done, the Queene her maydes doth call,
+    And bids them to be ready all,
+    She would goe see her Summer Hall,
+      She could no longer tarrie.
+
+    Her Chariot ready straight is made,
+    Each thing therein is fitting layde,                             130
+    That she by nothing might be stayde,
+      For naught must be her letting,
+    Foure nimble Gnats the Horses were,
+    Their Harnasses of Gossamere,
+    Flye Cranion her Chariottere,
+      Vpon the Coach-box getting.
+
+    Her Chariot of a Snayles fine shell,
+    Which for the colours did excell:
+    The faire Queene _Mab_, becomming well,
+      So liuely was the limming:                                     140
+    The seate the soft wooll of the Bee;
+    The couer, (gallantly to see)
+    The wing of a pyde Butterflee,
+      I trowe t'was simple trimming.
+
+    The wheeles compos'd of Crickets bones,
+    And daintily made for the nonce,
+    For feare of ratling on the stones,
+      With Thistle-downe they shod it;
+    For all her Maydens much did feare,
+    If _Oberon_ had chanc'd to heare,                                150
+    That _Mab_ his Queene should haue bin there,
+      He would not haue aboad it.
+
+    She mounts her Chariot with a trice,
+    Nor would she stay for no advice,
+    Vntill her Maydes that were so nice,
+      To wayte on her were fitted,
+    But ranne her selfe away alone;
+    Which when they heard there was not one,
+    But hasted after to be gone,
+      As she had beene diswitted.                                    160
+
+    _Hop_, and _Mop_, and _Drop_ so cleare,
+    _Pip_, and _Trip_, and _Skip_ that were,
+    To _Mab_ their Soueraigne euer deare:
+      Her speciall Maydes of Honour;
+    _Fib_, and _Tib_, and _Pinck_, and _Pin_,
+    _Tick_, and _Quick_, and _Iill_, and _Iin_,
+    _Tit_, and _Nit_, and _Wap_, and _Win_,
+      The Trayne that wayte vpon her.
+
+    Vpon a Grashopper they got,
+    And what with Amble, and with Trot,                              170
+    For hedge nor ditch they spared not,
+      But after her they hie them.
+    A Cobweb ouer them they throw,
+    To shield the winde if it should blowe,
+    Themselues they wisely could bestowe,
+      Lest any should espie them.
+
+    But let vs leaue Queene _Mab_ a while,
+    Through many a gate, o'r many a stile,
+    That now had gotten by this wile,
+      Her deare _Pigwiggin_ kissing,                                 180
+    And tell how _Oberon_ doth fare,
+    Who grew as mad as any Hare,
+    When he had sought each place with care,
+      And found his Queene was missing.
+
+    By grisly _Pluto_ he doth sweare,
+    He rent his cloths, and tore his haire,
+    And as he runneth, here and there,
+      An Acorne cup he greeteth;
+    Which soone he taketh by the stalke
+    About his head he lets it walke,                                 190
+    Nor doth he any creature balke,
+      But lays on all he meeteth.
+
+    The _Thuskan_ Poet doth aduance,
+    The franticke _Paladine_ of France,
+    And those more ancient doe inhaunce,
+      _Alcides_ in his fury.
+    And others _Aiax Telamon_,
+    But to this time there hath bin non,
+    So Bedlam as our _Oberon_,
+      Of which I dare assure you.                                    200
+
+    And first encountring with a waspe,
+    He in his armes the Fly doth claspe
+    As though his breath he forth would graspe,
+      Him for Pigwiggen taking:
+    Where is my wife thou Rogue, quoth he,
+    _Pigwiggen_, she is come to thee,
+    Restore her, or thou dy'st by me,
+      Whereat the poore waspe quaking,
+
+    Cryes, _Oberon_, great _Fayrie_ King,
+    Content thee I am no such thing,                                 210
+    I am a Waspe behold my sting,
+      At which the _Fayrie_ started:
+    When soone away the Waspe doth goe,
+    Poore wretch was neuer frighted so,
+    He thought his wings were much to slow,
+      O'rioyd, they so were parted.
+
+    He next vpon a Glow-worme light,
+    (You must suppose it now was night),
+    Which for her hinder part was bright,
+      He tooke to be a Deuill.                                       220
+    And furiously doth her assaile
+    For carrying fier in her taile
+    He thrasht her rough coat with his flayle,
+      The mad King fear'd no euill.
+
+    O quoth the _Gloworme_ hold thy hand,
+    Thou puisant King of _Fayrie_ land,
+    Thy mighty stroaks who may withstand,
+      Hould, or of life despaire I:
+    Together then her selfe doth roule,
+    And tumbling downe into a hole,                                  230
+    She seem'd as black as any Cole,
+      Which vext away the _Fayrie_.
+
+    From thence he ran into a Hiue,
+    Amongst the Bees he letteth driue
+    And downe their Coombes begins to riue,
+      All likely to haue spoyled:
+    Which with their Waxe his face besmeard,
+    And with their Honey daub'd his Beard
+    It would haue made a man afeard,
+      To see how he was moyled.                                      240
+
+    A new Aduenture him betides,
+    He mett an Ant, which he bestrides,
+    And post thereon away he rides,
+      Which with his haste doth stumble;
+    And came full ouer on her snowte,
+    Her heels so threw the dirt about,
+    For she by no meanes could get out,
+      But ouer him doth tumble.
+
+    And being in this piteous case,
+    And all be-slurried head and face,                               250
+    On runs he in this Wild-goose chase
+      As here, and there, he rambles
+    Halfe blinde, against a molehill hit,
+    And for a Mountaine taking it,
+    For all he was out of his wit,
+      Yet to the top he scrambles.
+
+    And being gotten to the top,
+    Yet there himselfe he could not stop,
+    But downe on th' other side doth chop,
+      And to the foot came rumbling:                                 260
+    So that the Grubs therein that bred,
+    Hearing such turmoyle ouer head,
+    Thought surely they had all bin dead,
+      So fearefull was the Iumbling.
+
+    And falling downe into a Lake,
+    Which him vp to the neck doth take,
+    His fury somewhat it doth slake,
+      He calleth for a Ferry;
+    Where you may some recouery note,
+    What was his Club he made his Boate,                             270
+    And in his Oaken Cup doth float,
+      As safe as in a Wherry.
+
+    Men talke of the Aduentures strange,
+    Of _Don Quishott_, and of their change
+    Through which he Armed oft did range,
+      Of _Sancha Panchas_ trauell:
+    But should a man tell euery thing,
+    Done by this franticke _Fayrie_ king.
+    And them in lofty numbers sing
+      It well his wits might grauell.                                280
+
+    Scarse set on shore, but therewithall,
+    He meeteth _Pucke_, which most men call
+    _Hobgoblin_, and on him doth fall,
+      With words from frenzy spoken;
+    Hoh, hoh, quoth _Hob_, God saue thy grace,
+    Who drest thee in this pitteous case,
+    He thus that spoild my soueraignes face,
+      I would his necke were broken.
+
+    This _Puck_ seemes but a dreaming dolt,
+    Still walking like a ragged Colt,                                290
+    And oft out of a Bush doth bolt,
+      Of purpose to deceiue vs.
+    And leading vs makes vs to stray,
+    Long Winters nights out of the way,
+    And when we stick in mire and clay,
+      _Hob_ doth with laughter leaue vs.
+
+    Deare _Puck_ (quoth he) my wife is gone
+    As ere thou lou'st King _Oberon_,
+    Let euery thing but this alone
+      With vengeance, and pursue her;                                300
+    Bring her to me aliue or dead,
+    Or that vilde thief, _Pigwiggins_ head,
+    That villaine hath defil'd my bed
+      He to this folly drew her.
+
+    Quoth _Puck_, My Liege Ile neuer lin,
+    But I will thorough thicke and thinne,
+    Vntill at length I bring her in,
+      My dearest Lord nere doubt it:
+    Thorough Brake, thorough Brier,
+    Thorough Muck, thorough Mier,                                    310
+    Thorough Water, thorough Fier,
+      And thus goes _Puck_ about it.
+
+    This thing Nimphidia ouer hard
+    That on this mad King had a guard
+    Not doubting of a great reward,
+      For first this businesse broching;
+    And through the ayre away doth goe
+    Swift as an Arrow from the Bowe,
+    To let her Soueraigne _Mab_ to know,
+      What perill was approaching.                                   320
+
+    The Queene bound with Loues powerfulst charme
+    Sate with _Pigwiggen_ arme in arme,
+    Her Merry Maydes that thought no harme,
+      About the roome were skipping:
+    A Humble-Bee their Minstrell, playde
+    Vpon his Hoboy; eu'ry Mayde
+    Fit for this Reuells was arayde,
+      The Hornepype neatly tripping.
+
+    In comes _Nimphidia_, and doth crie,
+    My Soueraigne for your safety flie,                              330
+    For there is danger but too nie,
+      I posted to forewarne you:
+    The King hath sent _Hobgoblin_ out,
+    To seeke you all the Fields about,
+    And of your safety you may doubt,
+      If he but once discerne you.
+
+    When like an vprore in a Towne,
+    Before them euery thing went downe,
+    Some tore a Ruffe, and some a Gowne,
+      Gainst one another iustling:                                   340
+    They flewe about like Chaffe i' th winde,
+    For hast some left their Maskes behinde;
+    Some could not stay their Gloues to finde,
+      There neuer was such bustling.
+
+    Forth ranne they by a secret way,
+    Into a brake that neere them lay;
+    Yet much they doubted there to stay,
+      Lest _Hob_ should hap to find them:
+    He had a sharpe and piercing sight,
+    All one to him the day and night,                                350
+    And therefore were resolu'd by flight,
+      To leave this place behind them.
+
+    At length one chanc'd to find a Nut,
+    In th' end of which a hole was cut,
+    Which lay vpon a Hazell roote,
+      There scatt'red by a Squirill:
+    Which out the kernell gotten had;
+    When quoth this _Fay_ deare Queene be glad,
+    Let _Oberon_ be ne'r so mad,
+      Ile set you safe from perill.                                  360
+
+    Come all into this Nut (quoth she)
+    Come closely in be rul'd by me,
+    Each one may here a chuser be,
+      For roome yee need not wrastle:
+    Nor neede yee be together heapt;
+    So one by one therein they crept,
+    And lying downe they soundly slept,
+      And safe as in a Castle.
+
+    _Nimphidia_ that this while doth watch,
+    Perceiu'd if _Puck_ the Queene should catch                      370
+    That he should be her ouer-match,
+      Of which she well bethought her;
+    Found it must be some powerfull Charme,
+    The Queene against him that must arme,
+    Or surely he would doe her harme,
+      For throughly he had sought her.
+
+    And listning if she ought could heare,
+    That her might hinder, or might feare:
+    But finding still the coast was cleare,
+      Nor creature had discride her;                                 380
+    Each circumstance and hauing scand,
+    She came thereby to vnderstand,
+    _Puck_ would be with them out of hand
+      When to her Charmes she hide her:
+
+    And first her Ferne seede doth bestowe,
+    The kernell of the Missletowe:
+    And here and there as _Puck_ should goe,
+      With terrour to affright him:
+    She Night-shade strawes to work him ill,
+    Therewith her Veruayne and her Dill,                             390
+    That hindreth Witches of their will,
+      Of purpose to dispight him.
+
+    Then sprinkles she the iuice of Rue,
+    That groweth vnderneath the Yeu:
+    With nine drops of the midnight dewe,
+      From Lunarie distilling:
+    The Molewarps braine mixt therewithall;
+    And with the same the Pismyres gall,
+    For she in nothing short would fall;
+      The _Fayrie_ was so willing.                                   400
+
+    Then thrice vnder a Bryer doth creepe,
+    Which at both ends was rooted deepe,
+    And ouer it three times shee leepe;
+      Her Magicke much auayling:
+    Then on _Proserpyna_ doth call,
+    And so vpon her spell doth fall,
+    Which here to you repeate I shall,
+      Not in one tittle fayling.
+
+    By the croking of the Frogge;
+    By the howling of the Dogge;                                     410
+    By the crying of the Hogge,
+      Against the storme arising;
+    By the Euening Curphewe bell;
+    By the dolefull dying knell,
+    O let this my direfull Spell,
+      _Hob_, hinder thy surprising.
+
+    By the Mandrakes dreadfull groanes;
+    By the Lubricans sad moans;
+    By the noyse of dead mens bones,
+      In Charnell houses ratling:                                    420
+    By the hissing of the Snake,
+    The rustling of the fire-Drake,
+    I charge thee thou this place forsake,
+      Nor of Queene _Mab_ be pratling.
+
+    By the Whirlwindes hollow sound,
+    By the Thunders dreadfull stound,
+    Yells of Spirits vnder ground,
+      I chardge thee not to feare vs:
+    By the Shreech-owles dismall note,
+    By the Blacke Night-Rauens throate,                              430
+    I charge thee _Hob_ to teare thy Coate
+      With thornes if thou come neere vs,
+
+    Her Spell thus spoke she stept aside,
+    And in a Chincke her selfe doth hide,
+    To see there of what would betyde,
+      For shee doth onely minde him:
+    When presently shee _Puck_ espies,
+    And well she markt his gloating eyes,
+    How vnder euery leafe he spies,
+      In seeking still to finde them.                                440
+
+    But once the Circle got within,
+    The Charmes to worke doe straight begin,
+    And he was caught as in a Gin;
+      For as he thus was busie,
+    A paine he in his Head-peece feeles,
+    Against a stubbed Tree he reeles,
+    And vp went poore _Hobgoblins_ heeles,
+      Alas his braine was dizzie.
+
+    At length vpon his feete he gets,
+    _Hobgoblin_ fumes, _Hobgoblin_ frets,                            450
+    And as againe he forward sets,
+      And through the Bushes scrambles;
+    A Stump doth trip him in his pace,
+    Down comes poore _Hob_ vpon his face,
+    And lamentably tore his case,
+      Amongst the Bryers and Brambles.
+
+    A plague vpon Queene _Mab_, quoth hee,
+    And all her Maydes where ere they be,
+    I thinke the Deuill guided me,
+      To seeke her so prouoked.                                      460
+    Where stumbling at a piece of Wood,
+    He fell into a dich of mudd,
+    Where to the very Chin he stood,
+      In danger to be choked.
+
+    Now worse than e're he was before:
+    Poore _Puck_ doth yell, poore _Puck_ doth rore;
+    That wak'd Queene _Mab_ who doubted sore
+      Some Treason had been wrought her:
+    Vntill _Nimphidia_ told the Queene
+    What she had done, what she had seene,                           470
+    Who then had well-neere crack'd her spleene
+      With very extreame laughter.
+
+    But leaue we _Hob_ to clamber out:
+    Queene _Mab_ and all her _Fayrie_ rout,
+    And come againe to haue about
+      With _Oberon_ yet madding:
+    And with _Pigwiggen_ now distrought,
+    Who much was troubled in his thought,
+    That he so long the Queene had sought,
+      And through the Fields was gadding.                            480
+
+    And as he runnes he still doth crie,
+    King _Oberon_ I thee defie,
+    And dare thee here in Armes to trie,
+      For my deare Ladies honour:
+    For that she is a Queene right good,
+    In whose defence Ile shed my blood,
+    And that thou in this iealous mood
+      Hast lay'd this slander on her.
+
+    And quickly Armes him for the Field,
+    A little Cockle-shell his Shield,                                490
+    Which he could very brauely wield:
+      Yet could it not be pierced:
+    His Speare a Bent both stiffe and strong,
+    And well-neere of two Inches long;
+    The Pyle was of a Horse-flyes tongue,
+      Whose sharpnesse nought reuersed.
+
+    And puts him on a coate of Male,
+    Which was of a Fishes scale,
+    That when his Foe should him assaile,
+      No poynt should be preuayling:                                 500
+    His Rapier was a Hornets sting,
+    It was a very dangerous thing:
+    For if he chanc'd to hurt the King,
+      It would be long in healing.
+
+    His Helmet was a Bettles head,
+    Most horrible and full of dread,
+    That able was to strike one dead,
+      Yet did it well become him:
+    And for a plume, a horses hayre,
+    Which being tossed with the ayre,                                510
+    Had force to strike his Foe with feare,
+      And turne his weapon from him.
+
+    Himselfe he on an Earewig set,
+    Yet scarce he on his back could get,
+    So oft and high he did coruet,
+      Ere he himselfe could settle:
+    He made him turne, and stop, and bound,
+    To gallop, and to trot the Round,
+    He scarce could stand on any ground,
+      He was so full of mettle.                                      520
+
+    When soone he met with _Tomalin_,
+    One that a valiant Knight had bin,
+    And to King _Oberon_ of kin;
+      Quoth he thou manly _Fayrie_:
+    Tell _Oberon_ I come prepar'd,
+    Then bid him stand vpon his Guard;
+    This hand his basenesse shall reward,
+      Let him be ne'r so wary.
+
+    Say to him thus, that I defie,
+    His slanders, and his infamie,                                   530
+    And as a mortall enemie,
+      Doe publickly proclaime him:
+    Withall, that if I had mine owne,
+    He should not weare the _Fayrie_ Crowne,
+    But with a vengeance should come downe:
+      Nor we a King should name him.
+
+    This _Tomalin_ could not abide,
+    To heare his Soueraigne vilefide:
+    But to the _Fayrie_ Court him hide;
+      Full furiously he posted,                                      540
+    With eu'ry thing _Pigwiggen_ sayd:
+    How title to the Crowne he layd,
+    And in what Armes he was aray'd,
+      As how himselfe he boasted.
+
+    Twixt head and foot, from point to point,
+    He told th'arming of each ioint,
+    In every piece, how neate, and quaint,
+      For _Tomalin_ could doe it:
+    How fayre he sat, how sure he rid,
+    As of the courser he bestrid,                                    550
+    How Mannag'd, and how well he did;
+      The King which listened to it,
+
+    Quoth he, goe _Tomalin_ with speede,
+    Prouide me Armes, prouide my Steed,
+    And euery thing that I shall neede,
+      By thee I will be guided;
+    To strait account, call thou thy witt,
+    See there be wanting not a whitt,
+    In euery thing see thou me fitt,
+      Just as my foes prouided.                                      560
+
+    Soone flewe this newes through _Fayrie_ land
+    Which gaue Queene _Mab_ to vnderstand,
+    The combate that was then in hand,
+      Betwixt those men so mighty:
+    Which greatly she began to rew,
+    Perceuing that all _Fayrie_ knew,
+    The first occasion from her grew,
+      Of these affaires so weighty.
+
+    Wherefore attended with her maides,
+    Through fogs, and mists, and dampes she wades,                   570
+    To _Proserpine_ the Queene of shades
+      To treat, that it would please her,
+    The cause into her hands to take,
+    For ancient loue and friendships sake,
+    And soone therof an end to make,
+      Which of much care would ease her.
+
+    A While, there let we _Mab_ alone,
+    And come we to King _Oberon_,
+    Who arm'd to meete his foe is gone,
+      For Proud _Pigwiggen_ crying:                                  580
+    Who sought the _Fayrie_ King as fast,
+    And had so well his iourneyes cast,
+    That he arriued at the last,
+      His puisant foe espying:
+
+    Stout _Tomalin_ came with the King,
+    _Tom Thum_ doth on _Pigwiggen_ bring,
+    That perfect were in euery thing,
+      To single fights belonging:
+    And therefore they themselues ingage,
+    To see them exercise their rage,                                 590
+    With faire and comely equipage,
+      Not one the other wronging.
+
+    So like in armes, these champions were,
+    As they had bin, a very paire,
+    So that a man would almost sweare,
+      That either, had bin either;
+    Their furious steedes began to naye
+    That they were heard a mighty way,
+    Their staues vpon their rests they lay;
+      Yet e'r they flew together,                                    600
+
+    Their Seconds minister an oath,
+    Which was indifferent to them both,
+    That on their Knightly faith, and troth,
+      No magicke them supplyed;
+    And sought them that they had no charmes,
+    Wherewith to worke each others harmes,
+    But came with simple open armes,
+      To haue their causes tryed.
+
+    Together furiously they ran,
+    That to the ground came horse and man,                           610
+    The blood out of their Helmets span,
+      So sharpe were their incounters;
+    And though they to the earth were throwne,
+    Yet quickly they regain'd their owne,
+    Such nimblenesse was neuer showne,
+      They were two Gallant Mounters.
+
+    When in a second Course againe,
+    They forward came with might and mayne,
+    Yet which had better of the twaine,
+      The Seconds could not iudge yet;                               620
+    Their shields were into pieces cleft,
+    Their helmets from their heads were reft,
+    And to defend them nothing left,
+      These Champions would not budge yet.
+
+    Away from them their Staues they threw,
+    Their cruell Swords they quickly drew,
+    And freshly they the fight renew;
+      They euery stroke redoubled:
+    Which made _Proserpina_ take heed,
+    And make to them the greater speed,                              630
+    For fear lest they too much should bleed,
+      Which wondrously her troubled.
+
+    When to th' infernall _Stix_ she goes,
+    She takes the Fogs from thence that rose,
+    And in a Bagge doth them enclose;
+      When well she had them blended:
+    She hyes her then to _Lethe_ spring,
+    A Bottell and thereof doth bring,
+    Wherewith she meant to worke the thing,
+      Which onely she intended.                                      640
+
+    Now _Proserpine_ with _Mab_ is gone
+    Vnto the place where _Oberon_
+    And proud _Pigwiggen_, one to one,
+      Both to be slaine were likely:
+    And there themselues they closely hide,
+    Because they would not be espide;
+    For _Proserpine_ meant to decide
+      The matter very quickly.
+
+    And suddainly vntyes the Poke,
+    Which out of it sent such a smoke,                               650
+    As ready was them all to choke,
+      So greeuous was the pother;
+    So that the Knights each other lost,
+    And stood as still as any post,
+    _Tom Thum_, nor _Tomalin_ could boast
+      Themselues of any other.
+
+    But when the mist gan somewhat cease,
+    _Proserpina_ commanded peace:
+    And that a while they should release,
+      Each other of their perill:                                    660
+    Which here (quoth she) I doe proclaime
+    To all in dreadfull _Plutos_ name,
+    That as yee will eschewe his blame,
+      You let me heare the quarrell,
+
+    But here your selues you must engage,
+    Somewhat to coole your spleenish rage:
+    Your greeuous thirst and to asswage,
+      That first you drinke this liquor:
+    Which shall your vnderstanding cleare,
+    As plainely shall to you appeare;                                670
+    Those things from me that you shall heare,
+      Conceiuing much the quicker.
+
+    This _Lethe_ water you must knowe,
+    The memory destroyeth so,
+    That of our weale, or of our woe,
+      It all remembrance blotted;
+    Of it nor can you euer thinke:
+    For they no sooner tooke this drinke,
+    But nought into their braines could sinke,
+      Of what had them besotted.                                     680
+
+    King _Oberon_ forgotten had,
+    That he for iealousie ranne mad:
+    But of his Queene was wondrous glad,
+      And ask'd how they came thither:
+    _Pigwiggen_ likewise doth forget,
+    That he Queene _Mab_ had euer met;
+    Or that they were so hard beset,
+      When they were found together.
+
+    Nor neither of them both had thought,
+    That e'r they had each other sought;                             690
+    Much lesse that they a Combat fought,
+      But such a dreame were lothing:
+    _Tom Thum_ had got a little sup,
+    And _Tomalin_ scarce kist the Cup,
+    Yet had their braines so sure lockt vp,
+      That they remembred nothing.
+
+    Queene _Mab_ and her light Maydes the while,
+    Amongst themselues doe closely smile,
+    To see the King caught with this wile,
+      With one another testing:                                      700
+    And to the _Fayrie_ Court they went,
+    With mickle ioy and merriment,
+    Which thing was done with good intent,
+      And thus I left them feasting.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE QVEST OF CYNTHIA
+
+
+    What time the groues were clad in greene,
+      The Fields drest all in flowers,
+    And that the sleeke-hayred Nimphs were seene,
+      To seeke them Summer Bowers.
+
+    Forth rou'd I by the sliding Rills,
+      To finde where CYNTHIA sat,
+    Whose name so often from the hills,
+      The Ecchos wondred at.
+
+    When me vpon my Quest to bring,
+      That pleasure might excell,                                     10
+    The Birds stroue which should sweetliest sing,
+      The Flowers which sweet'st should smell.
+
+    Long wand'ring in the Woods (said I)
+      Oh whether's CYNTHIA gone?
+    When soone the Eccho doth reply,
+      To my last word, goe on.
+
+    At length vpon a lofty Firre,
+      It was my chance to finde,
+    Where that deare name most due to her,
+      Was caru'd vpon the rynde.                                      20
+
+    Which whilst with wonder I beheld,
+      The Bees their hony brought,
+    And vp the carued letters fild,
+      As they with gould were wrought.
+
+    And neere that trees more spacious roote,
+      Then looking on the ground,
+    The shape of her most dainty foot,
+      Imprinted there I found.
+
+    Which stuck there like a curious seale,
+      As though it should forbid                                      30
+    Vs, wretched mortalls, to reueale,
+      What vnder it was hid.
+
+    Besides the flowers which it had pres'd,
+      Apeared to my vew,
+    More fresh and louely than the rest,
+      That in the meadowes grew:
+
+    The cleere drops in the steps that stood,
+      Of that dilicious Girle,
+    The Nimphes amongst their dainty food,
+      Drunke for dissolued pearle.                                    40
+
+    The yeilding sand, where she had troad,
+      Vntutcht yet with the winde,
+    By the faire posture plainely show'd,
+      Where I might _Cynthia_ finde.
+
+    When on vpon my waylesse walke,
+      As my desires me draw,
+    I like a madman fell to talke,
+      With euery thing I saw:
+
+    I ask'd some Lillyes why so white,
+      They from their fellowes were;                                  50
+    Who answered me, that _Cynthia's_ sight,
+      Had made them looke so cleare:
+
+    I ask'd a nodding Violet why,
+      It sadly hung the head,
+    It told me _Cynthia_ late past by,
+      Too soone from it that fled:
+
+    A bed of Roses saw I there,
+      Bewitching with their grace:
+    Besides so wondrous sweete they were,
+      That they perfum'd the place,                                   60
+
+    I of a Shrube of those enquir'd,
+      From others of that kind,
+    Who with such virtue them enspir'd,
+      It answer'd (to my minde).
+
+    As the base Hemblocke were we such,
+      The poysned'st weed that growes,
+    Till _Cynthia_ by her god-like tuch,
+      Transform'd vs to the Rose:
+
+    Since when those Frosts that winter brings
+      Which candy euery greene,                                       70
+    Renew vs like the Teeming Springs,
+      And we thus Fresh are scene.
+
+    At length I on a Fountaine light,
+      Whose brim with Pincks was platted;
+    The Banck with Daffadillies dight,
+      With grasse like Sleaue was matted,
+
+    When I demanded of that Well,
+      What power frequented there;
+    Desiring, it would please to tell
+      What name it vsde to beare.                                     80
+
+    It tolde me it was _Cynthias_ owne,
+      Within whose cheerefull brimmes,
+    That curious Nimph had oft beene knowne
+      To bath her snowy Limmes.
+
+    Since when that Water had the power,
+      Lost Mayden-heads to restore,
+    And make one Twenty in an howre,
+      Of _Esons_ age before.
+
+    And told me that the bottome cleere,
+      Now layd with many a fett                                       90
+    Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there:
+      Was knowne as blacke as Jet,
+
+    As when she from the water came,
+      Where first she touch'd the molde,
+    In balls the people made the same
+      For Pomander, and solde.
+
+    When chance me to an Arbour led,
+      Whereas I might behold:
+    Two blest _Elizeums_ in one sted,
+      The lesse the great enfold.                                    100
+
+    The place which she had chosen out,
+      Her selfe in to repose;
+    Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt
+      The very same had chose.
+
+    The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore
+      That sweet, nor dainty flower
+    That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore
+      Of CYNTHIAS Summer Bower.
+
+    The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay,
+      Like Friends did all embrace;                                  110
+    And their large branches did display,
+      To Canapy the place.
+
+    Where she like VENVS doth appeare,
+      Vpon a Rosie bed;
+    As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare,
+      Whereon she layd her head.
+
+    Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd,
+      And with such bounties blest:
+    No lim of hers but might haue made
+      A Goddesse at the least.                                       120
+
+    The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre,
+      By the bright Radience throwne
+    From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare,
+      They so like Diamonds shone.
+
+    The meanest weede the soyle there bare,
+      Her breath did so refine,
+    That it with Woodbynd durst compare,
+      And beard the Eglantine.
+
+    The dewe which on the tender grasse,
+      The Euening had distill'd,                                     130
+    To pure Rose-water turned was,
+      The shades with sweets that fill'd.
+
+    The windes were husht, no leafe so small
+      At all was scene to stirre:
+    Whilst tuning to the waters fall,
+      The small Birds sang to her.
+
+    Where she too quickly me espies,
+      When I might plainely see,
+    A thousand _Cupids_ from her eyes
+      Shoote all at once at me.                                      140
+
+    Into these secret shades (quoth she)
+      How dar'st thou be so bold
+    To enter, consecrate to me,
+      Or touch this hallowed mold.
+
+    Those words (quoth she) I can pronounce,
+      Which to that shape can bring
+    Thee, which the Hunter had who once
+      Sawe _Dian_ in the Spring.
+
+    Bright Nimph againe I thus replie,
+      This cannot me affright:                                       150
+    I had rather in thy presence die,
+      Then liue out of thy sight.
+
+    I first vpon the Mountaines hie,
+      Built Altars to thy name;
+    And grau'd it on the Rocks thereby,
+      To propogate thy fame.
+
+    I taught the Shepheards on the Downes,
+      Of thee to frame their Layes:
+    T'was I that fill'd the neighbouring Townes,
+      With Ditties of thy praise.                                    160
+
+    Thy colours I deuis'd with care,
+      Which were vnknowne before:
+    Which since that, in their braded hayre
+      The Nimphes and Siluans wore.
+
+    Transforme me to what shape you can,
+      I passe not what it be:
+    Yea what most hatefull is to man,
+      So I may follow thee.
+
+    Which when she heard full pearly floods,
+      I in her eyes might view:                                      170
+    (Quoth she) most welcome to these Woods,
+      Too meane for one so true.
+
+    Here from the hatefull world we'll liue,
+      A den of mere dispight:
+    To Ideots only that doth giue,
+      Which be her sole delight.
+
+    To people the infernall pit,
+      That more and more doth striue;
+    Where only villany is wit,
+      And Diuels only thriue.                                        180
+
+    Whose vilenesse vs shall neuer awe:
+      But here our sports shall be:
+    Such as the golden world first sawe,
+      Most innocent and free.
+
+    Of Simples in these Groues that growe,
+      Wee'll learne the perfect skill;
+    The nature of each Herbe to knowe
+      Which cures, and which can kill.
+
+    The waxen Pallace of the Bee,
+      We seeking will surprise                                       190
+    The curious workmanship to see,
+      Of her full laden thighes.
+
+    Wee'll suck the sweets out of the Combe,
+      And make the gods repine:
+    As they doe feast in _Ioues_ great roome,
+      To see with what we dine.
+
+    Yet when there haps a honey fall,
+      Wee'll lick the sirupt leaues:
+    And tell the Bees that their's is gall,
+      To this vpon the Greaues.                                      200
+
+    The nimble Squirrell noting here,
+      Her mossy Dray that makes,
+    And laugh to see the lusty Deere
+      Come bounding ore the brakes.
+
+    The Spiders Webb to watch weele stand,
+      And when it takes the Bee,
+    Weele helpe out of the Tyrants hand,
+      The Innocent to free.
+
+    Sometime weele angle at the Brooke,
+      The freckled Trout to take,                                    210
+    With silken Wormes, and bayte the hooke,
+      Which him our prey shall make.
+
+    Of medling with such subtile tooles,
+      Such dangers that enclose,
+    The Morrall is that painted Fooles,
+      Are caught with silken showes.
+
+    And when the Moone doth once appeare,
+      Weele trace the lower grounds,
+    When _Fayries_ in their Ringlets there
+      Do daunce their nightly rounds.                                220
+
+    And haue a Flocke of Turtle Doues,
+      A guard on vs to keepe,
+    A witnesse of our honest loues,
+      To watch vs till we sleepe.
+
+    Which spoke I felt such holy fires
+      To ouerspred my breast,
+    As lent life to my Chast desires
+      And gaue me endlesse rest.
+
+    By _Cynthia_ thus doe I subsist,
+      On earth Heauens onely pride,                                  230
+    Let her be mine, and let who list,
+      Take all the world beside.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEPHEARDS SIRENA
+
+
+          DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,
+          Autumne waxing olde and chill,
+          As he sate his Flocks to keepe
+          Vnderneath an easie hill:
+          Chanc'd to cast his eye aside
+          On those fields, where he had scene,
+          Bright SIRENA Natures pride,
+          Sporting on the pleasant greene:
+          To whose walkes the Shepheards oft,
+          Came her god-like foote to finde,                           10
+          And in places that were soft,
+          Kist the print there left behinde;
+          Where the path which she had troad,
+          Hath thereby more glory gayn'd,
+          Then in heau'n that milky rode,
+          Which with Nectar _Hebe_ stayn'd:
+          But bleake Winters boystrous blasts,
+          Now their fading pleasures chid,
+          And so fill'd them with his wastes,
+          That from sight her steps were hid.                         20
+          Silly Shepheard sad the while,
+          For his sweet SIRENA gone,
+          All his pleasures in exile:
+          Layd on the colde earth alone.
+          Whilst his gamesome cut-tayld Curre,
+          With his mirthlesse Master playes,
+          Striuing him with sport to stirre,
+          As in his more youthfull dayes,
+          DORILVS his Dogge doth chide,
+          Layes his well-tun'd Bagpype by,                            30
+          And his Sheep-hooke casts aside,
+          There (quoth he) together lye.
+          When a Letter forth he tooke,
+          Which to him SIRENA writ,
+          With a deadly down-cast looke,
+          And thus fell to reading it.
+          DORILVS my deare (quoth she)
+          Kinde Companion of my woe,
+          Though we thus diuided be,
+          Death cannot diuorce vs so:                                 40
+          Thou whose bosome hath beene still,
+          Th' onely Closet of my care,
+          And in all my good and ill,
+          Euer had thy equall share:
+          Might I winne thee from thy Fold,
+          Thou shouldst come to visite me,
+          But the Winter is so cold,
+          That I feare to hazard thee:
+          The wilde waters are waxt hie,
+          So they are both deafe and dumbe,                           50
+          Lou'd they thee so well as I,
+          They would ebbe when thou shouldst come;
+          Then my coate with light should shine,
+          Purer then the Vestall fire:
+          Nothing here but should be thine,
+          That thy heart can well desire:
+          Where at large we will relate,
+          From what cause our friendship grewe,
+          And in that the varying Fate,
+          Since we first each other knewe:                            60
+          Of my heauie passed plight,
+          As of many a future feare,
+          Which except the silent night,
+          None but onely thou shalt heare;
+          My sad hurt it shall releeue,
+          When my thoughts I shall disclose,
+          For thou canst not chuse but greeue,
+          When I shall recount my woes;
+          There is nothing to that friend,
+          To whose close vncranied brest,                             70
+          We our secret thoughts may send,
+          And there safely let it rest:
+          And thy faithfull counsell may,
+          My distressed case assist,
+          Sad affliction else may sway
+          Me a woman as it list:
+          Hither I would haue thee haste,
+          Yet would gladly haue thee stay,
+          When those dangers I forecast,
+          That may meet thee by the way,                              80
+          Doe as thou shalt thinke it best,
+          Let thy knowledge be thy guide,
+          Liue thou in my constant breast,
+          Whatsoeuer shall betide.
+          He her Letter hauing red,
+          Puts it in his Scrip againe,
+          Looking like a man halfe dead,
+          By her kindenesse strangely slaine;
+          And as one who inly knew,
+          Her distressed present state,                               90
+          And to her had still been true,
+          Thus doth with himselfe debate.
+          I will not thy face admire,
+          Admirable though it bee,
+          Nor thine eyes whose subtile fire
+          So much wonder winne in me:
+          But my maruell shall be now,
+          (And of long it hath bene so)
+          Of all Woman kind that thou
+          Wert ordain'd to taste of woe;                             100
+          To a Beauty so diuine,
+          Paradise in little done,
+          O that Fortune should assigne,
+          Ought but what thou well mightst shun,
+          But my counsailes such must bee,
+          (Though as yet I them conceale)
+          By their deadly wound in me,
+          They thy hurt must onely heale,
+          Could I giue what thou do'st craue
+          To that passe thy state is growne,                         110
+          I thereby thy life may saue,
+          But am sure to loose mine owne,
+          To that ioy thou do'st conceiue,
+          Through my heart, the way doth lye,
+          Which in two for thee must claue
+          Least that thou shouldst goe awry.
+          Thus my death must be a toy,
+          Which my pensiue breast must couer;
+          Thy beloued to enioy,
+          Must be taught thee by thy Louer.                          120
+          Hard the Choise I haue to chuse,
+          To my selfe if friend I be,
+          I must my SIRENA loose,
+          If not so, shee looseth me.
+          Thus whilst he doth cast about,
+          What therein were best to doe,
+          Nor could yet resolue the doubt,
+          Whether he should stay or goe:
+          In those Feilds not farre away,
+          There was many a frolike Swaine,                           130
+          In fresh Russets day by day,
+          That kept Reuells on the Plaine.
+          Nimble TOM, sirnam'd the _Tup_,
+          For his Pipe without a Peere,
+          And could tickle _Trenchmore_ vp,
+          As t'would ioy your heart to heare.
+          RALPH as much renown'd for skill,
+          That the _Taber_ touch'd so well;
+          For his _Gittern_, little GILL,
+          That all other did excell.                                 140
+          ROCK and ROLLO euery way,
+          Who still led the Rusticke Ging,
+          And could troule a Roundelay,
+          That would make the Feilds to ring,
+          COLLIN on his _Shalme_ so cleare,
+          Many a high-pitcht Note that had,
+          And could make the Eechos nere
+          Shout as they were wexen mad.
+          Many a lusty Swaine beside,
+          That for nought but pleasure car'd,                        150
+          Hauing DORILVS espy'd,
+          And with him knew how it far'd.
+          Thought from him they would remoue,
+          This strong melancholy fitt,
+          Or so, should it not behoue,
+          Quite to put him out of 's witt;
+          Hauing learnt a Song, which he
+          Sometime to Sirena sent,
+          Full of Iollity and glee,
+          When the Nimph liu'd neere to _Trent_                      160
+          They behinde him softly gott,
+          Lying on the earth along,
+          And when he suspected not,
+          Thus the Iouiall Shepheards song.
+
+          Neare to the Siluer _Trent_,
+            _Sirena_ dwelleth:
+          Shee to whom Nature lent
+            All that excelleth:
+          By which the _Muses_ late,
+            And the neate _Graces_,                                  170
+          Haue for their greater state
+            Taken their places:
+          Twisting an _Anadem_,
+            Wherewith to Crowne her,
+          As it belong'd to them
+            Most to renowne her.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let the Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,                                   180
+            Along let them bring her._
+
+          _Tagus_ and _Pactolus_
+            Are to thee Debter,
+          Nor for their gould to vs
+            Are they the better:
+          Henceforth of all the rest,
+            Be thou the Riuer,
+          Which as the daintiest,
+            Puts them downe euer,
+          For as my precious one,                                    190
+            O'r thee doth trauell,
+          She to Pearl Parragon
+            Turneth thy grauell.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Our mournefull _Philomell_,
+            That rarest Tuner,                                       200
+          Henceforth in _Aperill_
+            Shall wake the sooner,
+          And to her shall complaine
+            From the thicke Couer,
+          Redoubling euery straine
+            Ouer and ouer:
+          For when my Loue too long
+            Her Chamber keepeth;
+          As though it suffered wrong,
+            The Morning weepeth.                                     210
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Oft have I seene the Sunne
+            To doe her honour.
+          Fix himselfe at his noone,
+            To look vpon her,
+          And hath guilt euery Groue,                                220
+            Euery Hill neare her,
+          With his flames from aboue,
+            Striuing to cheere her,
+          And when shee from his sight
+            Hath her selfe turned,
+          He as it had beene night,
+            In Cloudes hath mourned.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,                                   230
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Verdant Meades are seene,
+            When she doth view them,
+          In fresh and gallant Greene,
+            Straight to renewe them,
+          And euery little Grasse
+            Broad it selfe spreadeth,
+          Proud that this bonny Lasse
+            Vpon it treadeth:                                        240
+          Nor flower is so sweete
+            In this large Cincture
+          But it upon her feete
+            Leaueth some Tincture.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with thy Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Fishes in the Flood,                                   250
+            When she doth Angle,
+          For the Hooke striue a good
+            Them to intangle;
+          And leaping on the Land
+            From the cleare water,
+          Their Scales vpon the sand,
+            Lauishly scatter;
+          Therewith to paue the mould
+            Whereon she passes,
+          So her selfe to behold,                                    260
+            As in her glasses.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          When shee lookes out by night,
+            The Starres stand gazing,
+          Like Commets to our sight
+            Fearefully blazing,                                      270
+          As wondring at her eyes
+            With their much brightnesse,
+          Which to amaze the skies,
+            Dimming their lightnesse,
+          The raging Tempests are Calme,
+            When shee speaketh,
+          Such most delightsome balme
+            From her lips breaketh.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke,
+              In a Rancke_, &c.                                      280
+
+          In all our _Brittany_,
+            Ther's not a fayrer,
+          Nor can you fitt any:
+            Should you compare her.
+          Angels her eye-lids keepe
+            All harts surprizing,
+          Which looke whilst she doth sleepe
+            Like the Sunnes rising:
+          She alone of her kinde
+            Knoweth true measure                                     290
+          And her vnmatched mind
+            Is Heauens treasure:
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Fayre _Doue_ and _Darwine_ cleere
+            Boast yee your beauties,
+          To _Trent_ your Mistres here                               300
+            Yet pay your duties,
+          My Loue was higher borne
+            Tow'rds the full Fountaines,
+          Yet she doth _Moorland_ scorne,
+            And the _Peake_ Mountaines;
+          Nor would she none should dreame,
+            Where she abideth,
+          Humble as is the streame,
+            Which by her slydeth,
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,                                        310
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swannes sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Yet my poore Rusticke _Muse_,
+            Nothing can moue her,
+          Nor the means I can vse,
+            Though her true Louer:
+          Many a long Winters night,
+            Haue I wak'd for her,                                    320
+          Yet this my piteous plight,
+            Nothing can stirre her.
+          All thy Sands siluer _Trent_
+            Downe to the _Humber_,
+          The sighes I haue spent
+            Neuer can number.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swans sing her
+            And with their Musicke                                   330
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Taken with this suddaine Song,
+          Least for mirth when he doth look
+          His sad heart more deeply stong,
+          Then the former care he tooke.
+          At their laughter and amaz'd,
+          For a while he sat aghast
+          But a little hauing gaz'd,
+          Thus he them bespake at last.
+          Is this time for mirth (quoth he)                          340
+          To a man with griefe opprest,
+          Sinfull wretches as you be,
+          May the sorrowes in my breast,
+          Light vpon you one by one,
+          And as now you mocke my woe,
+          When your mirth is turn'd to moane;
+          May your like then serue you so.
+            When one Swaine among the rest
+          Thus him merrily bespake,
+          Get thee vp thou arrant beast                              350
+          Fits this season loue to make?
+          Take thy Sheephooke in thy hand,
+          Clap thy Curre and set him on,
+          For our fields 'tis time to stand,
+          Or they quickly will be gon.
+          Rougish Swinheards that repine
+          At our Flocks, like beastly Clownes,
+          Sweare that they will bring their Swine,
+          And will wroote vp all our Downes:
+          They their Holly whips haue brac'd,                        360
+          And tough Hazell goades haue gott;
+          Soundly they your sides will baste,
+          If their courage faile them not.
+          Of their purpose if they speed,
+          Then your Bagpypes you may burne,
+          It is neither Droane nor Reed
+          Shepheard, that will serue your turne:
+          Angry OLCON sets them on,
+          And against vs part doth take
+          Euer since he was out-gone,                                370
+          Offring Rymes with us to make.
+          Yet if so our Sheepe-hookes hold,
+          Dearely shall our Downes be bought,
+          For it neuer shall be told,
+          We our Sheep-walkes sold for naught.
+          And we here haue got vs Dogges,
+          Best of all the Westerne breed,
+          Which though Whelps shall lug their Hogges,
+          Till they make their eares to bleed:
+          Therefore Shepheard come away.                             380
+          When as DORILVS arose,
+          Whistles Cut-tayle from his play,
+          And along with them he goes.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE MVSES ELIZIVM
+
+The Description of Elizium
+
+
+    A Paradice on earth is found,
+      Though farre from vulgar sight,
+    Which with those pleasures doth abound
+      That it _Elizium_ hight.
+
+    Where, in Delights that neuer fade,
+      The Muses lulled be,
+    And sit at pleasure in the shade
+      Of many a stately tree,
+
+    Which no rough Tempest makes to reele
+      Nor their straight bodies bowes,                                10
+    Their lofty tops doe neuer feele
+      The weight of winters snowes;
+
+    In Groues that euermore are greene,
+      No falling leafe is there,
+    But _Philomel_ (of birds the Queene)
+      In Musicke spends the yeare.
+
+    The _Merle_ vpon her mertle Perch,
+      There to the _Mavis_ sings,
+    Who from the top of some curld Berch
+      Those notes redoubled rings;                                    20
+
+    There Daysyes damaske euery place
+      Nor once their beauties lose,
+    That when proud _Phoebus_ hides his face
+      Themselues they scorne to close.
+
+    The Pansy and the Violet here,
+      As seeming to descend,
+    Both from one Root, a very payre,
+      For sweetnesse yet contend,
+
+    And pointing to a Pinke to tell
+      Which beares it, it is loath,                                   30
+    To iudge it; but replyes for smell
+      That it excels them both.
+
+    Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads
+      So angry soone they grow
+    And from their odoriferous beds
+      Their sweets at it they throw.
+
+    The winter here a Summer is,
+      No waste is made by time,
+    Nor doth the Autumne euer misse
+      The blossomes of the Prime.                                     40
+
+    The flower that Iuly forth doth bring
+      In Aprill here is seene,
+    The Primrose that puts on the Spring
+      In Iuly decks each Greene.
+
+    The sweets for soueraignty contend
+      And so abundant be,
+    That to the very Earth they lend
+      And Barke of euery Tree:
+
+    Rills rising out of euery Banck,
+      In wild Meanders strayne,                                       50
+    And playing many a wanton pranck
+      Vpon the speckled plaine,
+
+    In Gambols and lascivious Gyres
+      Their time they still bestow
+    Nor to their Fountaines none retyres,
+      Nor on their course will goe.
+
+    Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt,
+      So proud and wanton made,
+    That they their courses quite neglect:
+      And seeme as though they stayde,                                60
+
+    Faire _Flora_ in her state to viewe
+      Which through those Lillies looks,
+    Or as those Lillies leand to shew
+      Their beauties to the brooks.
+
+    That _Phoebus_in his lofty race,
+      Oft layes aside his beames
+    And comes to coole his glowing face
+      In these delicious streames;
+
+    Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues,
+      Whose ripned clusters there,                                    70
+    Their liquid purple drop, which driues
+      A Vintage through the yeere.
+
+    Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad
+      With Trees of sundry sutes,
+    Which make continuall summer glad,
+      Euen bending with their fruits,
+
+    Some ripening, ready some to fall,
+      Some blossom'd, some to bloome,
+    Like gorgeous hangings on the wall
+      Of some rich princely Roome:                                    80
+
+    _Pomegranates_, _Lymons_, _Cytrons_, so
+      Their laded branches bow,
+    Their leaues in number that outgoe
+      Nor roomth will them alow.
+
+    There in perpetuall Summers shade,
+      _Apolloes_ Prophets sit,
+    Among the flowres that neuer fade,
+      But flowrish like their wit;
+
+    To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres,
+      Tune many a curious lay,                                        90
+    And with their most melodious Quires
+      Make short the longest day.
+
+    The _thrice three Virgins_ heavenly Cleere,
+      Their trembling Timbrels sound,
+    Whilst the three comely Graces there
+      Dance many a dainty Round,
+
+    Decay nor Age there nothing knowes,
+      There is continuall Youth,
+    As Time on plant or creatures growes,
+      So still their strength renewth.                               100
+
+    The Poets Paradice this is,
+      To which but few can come;
+    The Muses onely bower of blisse
+      Their Deare _Elizium_.
+
+    Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers,
+      Free from the rude resort
+    Of beastly people) spend the houres,
+      In harmelesse mirth and sport,
+
+    Then on to the _Elizian_ plaines
+      _Apollo_ doth invite you                                       110
+    Where he prouides with pastorall straines,
+      In Nimphals to delight you.
+
+
+The first Nimphall
+
+RODOPE and DORIDA.
+
+        _This Nimphall of delights doth treat,
+        Choice beauties, and proportions neat,
+        Of curious shapes, and dainty features
+        Describd in two most perfect creatures._
+
+    When _Phoebus_ with a face of mirth,
+    Had flong abroad his beames,
+    To blanch the bosome of the earth,
+    And glaze the gliding streames.
+    Within a goodly Mertle groue,
+    Vpon that hallowed day
+    The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue
+    Their vowes were vsde to pay.
+    Faire _Rodope_ and _Dorida_
+    Met in those sacred shades,                                       10
+    Then whom the Sunne in all his way,
+    Nere saw two daintier Maids.
+    And through the thickets thrild his fires,
+    Supposing to haue seene
+    The soueraigne _Goddesse of desires_,
+    Or _Ioves Emperious Queene_:
+    Both of so wondrous beauties were,
+    In shape both so excell,
+    That to be paraleld elsewhere,
+    No iudging eye could tell.                                        20
+    And their affections so surpasse,
+    As well it might be deemd,
+    That th' one of them the other was,
+    And but themselues they seem'd.
+    And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place,
+    Disposed were to play
+    At Barly-breake and Prison-base,
+    Doe passe the time away:
+    This peerlesse payre together set,
+    The other at their sport,                                         30
+    None neare their free discourse to let,
+    Each other thus they court,
+
+      _Dorida._ My sweet, my soueraigne _Rodope_,
+    My deare delight, my loue,
+    That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me,
+    I to this Bracelet woue;
+    Which brighter euery day doth grow
+    The longer it is worne,
+    As its delicious fellowes doe,
+    Thy Temples that adorne.                                          40
+
+      _Rodope._ Nay had I thine my _Dorida_,
+    I would them so bestow,
+    As that the winde vpon my way,
+    Might backward make them flow,
+    So should it in its greatst excesse
+    Turne to becalmed ayre,
+    And quite forget all boistrousnesse
+    To play with euery hayre.
+
+      _Dorida._ To me like thine had nature giuen,
+    A Brow, so Archt, so cleere,                                      50
+    A Front, wherein so much of heauen
+    Doth to each eye appeare,
+    The world should see, I would strike dead
+    The Milky Way that's now,
+    And say that Nectar _Hebe_ shed
+    Fell all vpon my Brow.
+
+      _Rodope._ O had I eyes like _Doridaes_,
+    I would inchant the day
+    And make the Sunne to stand at gaze,
+    Till he forget his way:                                           60
+    And cause his Sister _Queene of Streames_,
+    When so I list by night;
+    By her much blushing at my Beames
+    T' eclipse her borrowed light.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Cheeke like _Rodopes_,
+    In midst of which doth stand,
+    A Groue of Roses, such as these,
+    In such a snowy land:
+    I would then make the Lilly which we now
+    So much for whitenesse name,                                      70
+    As drooping downe the head to bow,
+    And die for very shame.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a bosome like to thine,
+    When I it pleas'd to show,
+    T' what part o' th' Skie I would incline
+    I would make th' Etheriall bowe,
+    My swannish breast brancht all with blew,
+    In brauery like the spring:
+    In Winter to the generall view
+    Full Summer forth should bring.                                   80
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a body like my deare,
+    Were I so straight so tall,
+    O, if so broad my shoulders were,
+    Had I a waste so small;
+    I would challenge the proud Queene of loue
+    To yeeld to me for shape,
+    And I should feare that _Mars_ or _Iove_
+    Would venter for my rape.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a hand like thee my Gerle,
+    (This hand O let me kisse)                                        90
+    These Ivory Arrowes pyl'd with pearle,
+    Had I a hand like this;
+    I would not doubt at all to make,
+    Each finger of my hand
+    To taske swift _Mercury_ to take
+    With his inchanting wand.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Theigh like Rodopes;
+    Which twas my chance to viewe,
+    When lying on yon banck at ease,
+    The wind thy skirt vp blew,                                      100
+    I would say it were a columne wrought
+    To some intent Diuine,
+    And for our chaste _Diana_ sought,
+    A pillar for her shryne.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a Leg but like to thine
+    That were so neat, so cleane,
+    A swelling Calfe, a Small so fine,
+    An Ankle, round and leane,
+    I would tell nature she doth misse
+    Her old skill; and maintaine,                                    110
+    She shewd her master peece in this,
+    Not to be done againe.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I that Foot hid in those shoos,
+    (Proportion'd to my height)
+    Short Heele, thin Instep, euen Toes,
+    A Sole so wondrous straight,
+    The Forresters and Nimphes at this
+    Amazed all should stand,
+    And kneeling downe, should meekely kisse
+    The Print left in the sand.                                      120
+
+    By this the Nimphes came from their sport,
+    All pleased wondrous well,
+    And to these Maydens make report
+    What lately them befell:
+    One said the dainty _Lelipa_
+    Did all the rest out-goe,
+    Another would a wager lay
+    She would outstrip a Roe;
+    Sayes one, how like you _Florimel_
+    There is your dainty face:                                       130
+    A fourth replide, she lik't that well,
+    Yet better lik't her grace,
+    She's counted, I confesse, quoth she,
+    To be our onely Pearle,
+    Yet haue I heard her oft to be
+    A melancholy Gerle.
+    Another said she quite mistoke,
+    That onely was her art,
+    When melancholly had her looke
+    Then mirth was in her heart;                                     140
+    And hath she then that pretty trick
+    Another doth reply,
+    I thought no Nimph could haue bin sick
+    Of that disease but I;
+    I know you can dissemble well
+    Quoth one to giue you due,
+    But here be some (who Ile not tell)
+    Can do't as well as you,
+    Who thus replies, I know that too,
+    We haue it from our Mother,                                      150
+    Yet there be some this thing can doe
+    More cunningly then other:
+    If Maydens but dissemble can
+    Their sorrow and ther ioy,
+    Their pore dissimulation than,
+    Is but a very toy.
+
+
+The second Nimphall
+
+LALVS, CLEON, and LIROPE.
+
+                  _The Muse new Courtship doth deuise,
+                  By Natures strange Varieties,
+                  Whose Rarieties she here relates,
+                  And giues you Pastorall Delicates._
+
+              _Lalus_ a Iolly youthfull Lad,
+              With _Cleon_, no lesse crown'd
+              With vertues; both their beings had
+              On the Elizian ground.
+              Both hauing parts so excellent,
+              That it a question was,
+              Which should be the most eminent,
+              Or did in ought surpasse:
+              This _Cleon_ was a Mountaineer,
+              And of the wilder kinde,                                10
+              And from his birth had many a yeere
+              Bin nurst vp by a Hinde.
+              And as the sequell well did show,
+              It very well might be;
+              For neuer Hart, nor Hare, nor Roe,
+              Were halfe so swift as he.
+              But _Lalus_ in the Vale was bred,
+              Amongst the Sheepe and Neate,
+              And by these Nimphes there choicly fed,
+              With Hony, Milke, and Wheate;                           20
+              Of Stature goodly, faire of speech,
+              And of behauiour mylde,
+              Like those there in the Valley rich,
+              That bred him of a chyld.
+              Of Falconry they had the skill,
+              Their Halkes to feed and flye,
+              No better Hunters ere clome Hill,
+              Nor hollowed to a Cry:
+              In Dingles deepe, and Mountains hore,
+              Oft with the bearded Speare                             30
+              They combated the tusky Boare,
+              And slew the angry Beare.
+              In Musicke they were wondrous quaint,
+              Fine Aers they could deuise;
+              They very curiously could Paint,
+              And neatly Poetize;
+              That wagers many time were laid
+              On Questions that arose,
+              Which song the witty _Lalus_ made,
+              Which _Cleon_ should compose.                           40
+              The stately Steed they manag'd well,
+              Of Fence the art they knew,
+              For Dansing they did all excell
+              The Gerles that to them drew;
+              To throw the Sledge, to pitch the Barre,
+              To wrestle and to Run,
+              They all the Youth exceld so farre,
+              That still the Prize they wonne.
+              These sprightly Gallants lou'd a Lasse,
+              Cald _Lirope the bright_,                               50
+              In the whole world there scarcely was
+              So delicate a Wight,
+              There was no Beauty so diuine
+              That euer Nimph did grace,
+              But it beyond it selfe did shine
+              In her more heuenly face:
+              What forme she pleasd each thing would take
+              That ere she did behold,
+              Of Pebbles she could Diamonds make,
+              Grosse Iron turne to Gold:                              60
+              Such power there with her presence came
+              Sterne Tempests she alayd,
+              The cruell Tiger she could tame,
+              She raging Torrents staid,
+              She chid, she cherisht, she gaue life,
+              Againe she made to dye,
+              She raisd a warre, apeasd a Strife,
+              With turning of her eye.
+              Some said a God did her beget,
+              But much deceiu'd were they,                            70
+              Her Father was a _Riuelet_,
+              Her Mother was a _Fay_.
+              Her Lineaments so fine that were,
+              She from the Fayrie tooke,
+              Her Beauties and Complection cleere,
+              By nature from the Brooke.
+              These Ryualls wayting for the houre
+              (The weather calme and faire)
+              When as she vs'd to leaue her Bower
+              To take the pleasant ayre                               80
+              Acosting her; their complement
+              To her their Goddesse done;
+              By gifts they tempt her to consent,
+              When _Lalus_ thus begun.
+
+                _Lalus._ Sweet _Lirope_ I haue a Lambe
+              Newly wayned from the Damme,
+_* Without    Of the right kinde, it is *notted,
+hornes._      Naturally with purple spotted,
+              Into laughter it will put you,
+              To see how prettily 'twill But you;                     90
+              When on sporting it is set,
+              It will beate you a Corvet,
+              And at euery nimble bound
+              Turne it selfe aboue the ground;
+              When tis hungry it will bleate,
+              From your hand to haue its meate,
+              And when it hath fully fed,
+              It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head,
+              As innocently to expresse
+              Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse,                     100
+              When you bid it, it will play,
+              Be it either night or day,
+              This _Lirope_ I haue for thee,
+              So thou alone wilt liue with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ From him O turne thine eare away,
+              And heare me my lou'd _Lirope_,
+              I haue a Kid as white as milke,
+              His skin as soft as _Naples_ silke,
+              His hornes in length are wondrous euen,
+              And curiously by nature writhen;                       110
+              It is of th' Arcadian kinde,
+              Ther's not the like twixt either _Inde_;
+              If you walke, 'twill walke you by,
+              If you sit downe, it downe will lye,
+              It with gesture will you wooe,
+              And counterfeit those things you doe;
+              Ore each Hillock it will vault,
+              And nimbly doe the Summer-sault,
+              Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe,
+              And follow you a furlong so,                           120
+              And if by chance a Tune you roate,
+              'Twill foote it finely to your note,
+              Seeke the worlde and you may misse
+              To finde out such a thing as this;
+              This my loue I haue for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare,
+              And you offer wondrous faire;
+              _Lalus_ for Lambe, _Cleon_ for Kyd,
+              'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid,                130
+              And haue you two such things in store,
+              And I n'er knew of them before?
+              Well yet I dare a Wager lay
+              That _Brag_ my little Dog shall play,
+              As dainty tricks when I shall bid,
+              As _Lalus_ Lambe, or _Cleons_ Kid.
+              But t' may fall out that I may neede them
+              Till when yee may doe well to feed them;
+              Your Goate and Mutton pretty be
+              But Youths these are noe bayts for me,                 140
+              Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe,
+              'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.
+
+                _Lalus._ I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow,
+              Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show;
+              In her Bosome _Venus_ hatcht them
+              Where her little _Cupid_ watcht them,
+              Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke
+              Themselues and to the Fields betooke,
+              Where by chance a Fowler caught them
+              Of whom I full dearely bought them;                    150
+_* The redde  They'll fetch you Conserue from the *Hip,
+fruit of the  And lay it softly on your Lip,
+smooth        Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup
+Bramble._     And fluttering feed you with the Sirup,
+              And if thence you put them by
+              They to your white necke will flye,
+              And if you expulse them there
+              They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre;
+              You so long shall see them prattle
+              Till at length they'll fall to battle,                 160
+              And when they haue fought their fill,
+              You will smile to see them bill
+              These birds my _Lirope's_ shall be
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ His Sparrowes are not worth a rush
+              I'le finde as good in euery bush,
+              Of Doues I haue a dainty paire
+              Which when you please to take the Air,
+              About your head shall gently houer
+              You Cleere browe from the Sunne to couer,              170
+              And with their nimble wings shall fan you,
+              That neither Cold nor Heate shall tan you,
+              And like Vmbrellas with their feathers
+              Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers:
+              They be most dainty Coloured things,
+              They haue Damask backs and Chequerd wings,
+              Their neckes more Various Cullours showe
+              Then there be mixed in the Bowe;
+              _Venus_ saw the lesser Doue
+              And therewith was farre in Loue,                       180
+              Offering for't her goulden Ball
+              For her Sonne to play withall;
+              These my _Liropes_ shall be
+              So shee'll leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Then for Sparrowes, and for Doues
+              I am fitted twixt my Loues,
+              But _Lalus_ I take no delight
+              In Sparowes, for they'll scratch and bite
+              And though ioynd, they are euer wooing
+              Alwayes billing, if not doeing,                        190
+              Twixt _Venus_ breasts if they haue lyen
+              I much feare they'll infect myne;
+              _Cleon_ your Doues are very dainty,
+              Tame Pidgeons else you know are plenty,
+              These may winne some of your Marrowes
+              I am not caught with Doues, nor Sparrowes,
+              I thanke ye kindly for your Coste,
+              Yet your labour is but loste.
+
+                _Lalus._ With full-leau'd Lillies I will stick
+              Thy braded hayre all o'r so thick,                     200
+              That from it a Light shall throw
+              Like the Sunnes vpon the Snow.
+              Thy Mantle shall be Violet Leaues,
+              With the fin'st the Silkeworme weaues
+              As finely wouen; whose rich smell
+              The Ayre about thee so shall swell
+              That it shall haue no power to mooue.
+              A Ruffe of Pinkes thy Robe aboue
+              About thy necke so neatly set
+              That Art it cannot counterfet,                         210
+              Which still shall looke so Fresh and new,
+              As if vpon their Roots they grew:
+              And for thy head Ile haue a Tyer
+              Of netting, made of Strawbery wyer,
+              And in each knot that doth compose
+              A Mesh, shall stick a halfe blowne Rose,
+              Red, damaske, white, in order set
+              About the sides, shall run a Fret
+              Of Primroses, the Tyer throughout
+              With Thrift and Dayses frindgd about;                  220
+              All this faire Nimph Ile doe for thee,
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ These be but weeds and Trash he brings,
+              Ile giue thee solid, costly things,
+              His will wither and be gone
+              Before thou well canst put them on;
+              With Currall I will haue thee Crown'd,
+              Whose Branches intricatly wound
+              Shall girt thy Temples euery way;
+              And on the top of euery Spray                          230
+              Shall stick a Pearle orient and great,
+              Which so the wandring Birds shall cheat,
+              That some shall stoope to looke for Cheries,
+              As other for tralucent Berries.
+              And wondering, caught e'r they be ware
+              In the curld Tramels of thy hayre:
+              And for thy necke a Christall Chaine
+              Whose lincks shapt like to drops of Raine,
+              Vpon thy panting Breast depending,
+              Shall seeme as they were still descending,             240
+              And as thy breath doth come and goe,
+              So seeming still to ebbe and flow:
+              With Amber Bracelets cut like Bees,
+              Whose strange transparency who sees,
+              With Silke small as the Spiders Twist
+              Doubled so oft about thy Wrist,
+              Would surely thinke aliue they were,
+              From Lillies gathering hony there.
+              Thy Buskins Ivory, caru'd like Shels
+              Of Scallope, which as little Bels                      250
+              Made hollow, with the Ayre shall Chime,
+              And to thy steps shall keepe the time:
+              Leaue _Lalus_, _Lirope_ for me
+              And these shall thy rich dowry be.
+
+                _Lirope._ _Lalus_ for Flowers. _Cleon_ for Iemmes,
+              For Garlands and for Diadems,
+              I shall be sped, why this is braue,
+              What Nimph can choicer Presents haue,
+              With dressing, brading, frowncing, flowring,
+              All your Iewels on me powring,                         260
+              In this brauery being drest,
+              To the ground I shall be prest,
+              That I doubt the Nimphes will feare me,
+              Nor will venture to come neare me;
+              Neuer Lady of the May,
+              To this houre was halfe so gay;
+              All in flowers, all so sweet,
+              From the Crowne, beneath the Feet,
+              Amber, Currall, Ivory, Pearle,
+              If this cannot win a Gerle,                            270
+              Ther's nothing can, and this ye wooe me,
+              Giue me your hands and trust ye to me,
+              (Yet to tell ye I am loth)
+              That I'le haue neither of you both;
+
+                _Lalus._ When thou shalt please to stem the flood,
+              (As thou art of the watry brood)
+              I'le haue twelve Swannes more white than Snow,
+              Yokd for the purpose two and two,
+              To drawe thy Barge wrought of fine Reed
+              So well that it nought else shall need,                280
+              The Traces by which they shall hayle
+              Thy Barge; shall be the winding trayle
+              Of woodbynd; whose braue Tasseld Flowers
+              (The Sweetnesse of the Woodnimphs Bowres)
+              Shall be the Trappings to adorne,
+              The Swannes, by which thy Barge is borne,
+              Of flowred Flags I'le rob the banke
+              Of water-Cans and King-cups ranck
+              To be the Couering of thy Boate,
+              And on the Streame as thou do'st Floate,               290
+              The _Naiades_ that haunt the deepe,
+              Themselues about thy Barge shall keepe,
+              Recording most delightfull Layes,
+              By Sea Gods written in thy prayse.
+              And in what place thou hapst to land,
+              There the gentle Siluery sand,
+              Shall soften, curled with the Aier
+              As sensible of thy repayre:
+              This my deare loue I'le doe for thee,
+              So Thou'lt leaue him and goe with me:                  300
+
+                _Cleon._ Tush Nimphe his Swannes will prove but Geese,
+              His Barge drinke water like a Fleece;
+              A Boat is base, I'le thee prouide,
+              A Chariot, wherein _Ioue_ may ride;
+              In which when brauely thou art borne,
+              Thou shalt looke like the gloryous morne
+              Vshering the Sunne, and such a one
+              As to this day was neuer none,
+              Of the Rarest Indian Gummes,
+              More pretious then your Balsamummes                    310
+              Which I by Art haue made so hard,
+              That they with Tooles may well be Caru'd
+              To make a Coach of: which shall be
+              Materyalls of this one for thee,
+              And of thy Chariot each small peece
+              Shall inlayd be with Amber Greece,
+              And guilded with the Yellow ore
+              Produc'd from _Tagus_ wealthy shore;
+              In which along the pleasant Lawne,
+              With twelue white Stags thou shalt be drawne,          320
+              Whose brancht palmes of a stately height,
+              With seuerall nosegayes shall be dight;
+              And as thou ryd'st, thy Coach about,
+              For thy strong guard shall runne a Rout,
+              Of Estriges; whose Curled plumes,
+              Sen'sd with thy Chariots rich perfumes,
+              The scent into the Aier shall throw;
+              Whose naked Thyes shall grace the show;
+              Whilst the Woodnimphs and those bred
+              Vpon the mountayns, o'r thy head                       330
+              Shall beare a Canopy of flowers,
+              Tinseld with drops of Aprill showers,
+              Which shall make more glorious showes
+              Then spangles, or your siluer Oas;
+              This bright nimph I'le doe for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Vie and reuie, like Chapmen profer'd,
+              Would't be receaued what you haue offer'd;
+              Ye greater honour cannot doe me,
+              If not building Altars to me:                          340
+              Both by Water and by Land,
+              Bardge and Chariot at command;
+              Swans vpon the Streame to rawe me,
+              Stags vpon the Land to drawe me,
+              In all this Pompe should I be seene,
+              What a pore thing were a Queene:
+              All delights in such excesse,
+              As but yee, who can expresse:
+              Thus mounted should the Nimphes me see,
+              All the troope would follow me,                        350
+              Thinking by this state that I
+              Would asume a Deitie.
+              There be some in loue haue bin,
+              And I may commit that sinne,
+              And if e'r I be in loue,
+              With one of you I feare twill proue,
+              But with which I cannot tell,
+              So my gallant Youths farewell.
+
+
+The third Nimphall
+
+     DORON. NAIJS. CLORIS. CLAIA.
+     DORILVS. CLOE. MERTILLA.
+     FLORIMEL.
+
+     With Nimphes and Forresters.
+
+        _Poetick Raptures, sacred fires,
+        With which _Apollo_ his inspires,
+        This Nimphall gives you; and withall
+        Obserues the Muses Festivall._
+
+    Amongst th' Elizians many mirthfull Feasts,
+    At which the Muses are the certaine guests,
+    Th' obserue one Day with most Emperiall state,
+    To wise _Apollo_ which they dedicate,
+    The Poets God; and to his Alters bring
+    Th' enamel'd Brauery of the beauteous spring,
+    And strew their Bowers with euery precious sweet,
+    Which still wax fresh, most trod on with their feet;
+    With most choice flowers each Nimph doth brade her hayre,
+    And not the mean'st but bauldrick wise doth weare                 10
+    Some goodly Garland, and the most renown'd
+    With curious Roseat Anadems are crown'd.
+    These being come into the place where they
+    Yearely obserue the Orgies to that day,
+    The Muses from their Heliconian spring
+    Their brimfull Mazers to the feasting bring:
+    When with deepe Draughts out of those plenteous Bowles,
+    The iocond Youth haue swild their thirsty soules,
+    They fall enraged with a sacred heat,
+    And when their braines doe once begin to sweat                    20
+    They into braue and Stately numbers breake,
+    And not a word that any one doth speake
+    But tis Prophetick, and so strangely farre
+    In their high fury they transported are,
+    As there's not one, on any thing can straine,
+    But by another answred is againe
+    In the same Rapture, which all sit to heare;
+    When as two Youths that soundly liquord were,
+    _Dorilus_ and _Doron_, two as noble swayns
+    As euer kept on the Elizian playns,                               30
+    First by their signes attention hauing woonne,
+    Thus they the Reuels frolikly begunne.
+
+        Doron. _Come _Dorilus_, let vs be brave,
+      In lofty numbers let vs raue,
+      With Rymes I will inrich thee._
+
+        Dorilus. _Content say I, then bid the base,
+      Our wits shall runne the Wildgoosechase,
+      Spurre vp, or I will swich thee._
+
+        Doron. _The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,
+      And now the day begins to creepe,                               40
+      Vpon the world at leasure._
+
+        Dorilus. _The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaues,
+      The West winde stroaks the velvit leaues
+      And kisses them at pleasure._
+
+        Doron. _The spinners webs twixt spray and spray,
+      The top of euery bush make gay,
+      By filmy coards there dangling._
+
+        Dorilus. _For now the last dayes euening dew
+      Euen to the full it selfe doth shew,
+      Each bough with Pearle bespangling._                            50
+
+        Doron. _O Boy how thy abundant vaine
+      Euen like a Flood breaks from thy braine,
+      Nor can thy Muse be gaged._
+
+        Dorilus. _Why nature forth did neuer bring
+      A man that like to me can sing,
+      If once I be enraged._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ I in my skill
+      Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,
+      Nay beare back to his springing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And I into a Trance most deepe                      60
+      Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe
+      When fain'st they would be singing._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ thou mak'st me mad,
+      And now my wits begin to gad,
+      But sure I know not whither._
+
+        Dorilus. _O _Doron_ let me hug thee then,
+      There neuer was two madder men,
+      Then let vs on together._
+
+        Doron. Hermes _the winged Horse bestrid,
+      And thorow thick and thin he rid,                               70
+      And floundred throw the Fountaine._
+
+        Dorilus. _He spurd the Tit vntill he bled,
+      So that at last he ran his head
+      Against the forked Mountaine,_
+
+        Doron. _How sayst thou, but pyde _Iris_ got
+      Into great _Iunos_ Chariot,
+      I spake with one that saw her._
+
+        Dorilus. _And there the pert and sawcy Elfe,
+      Behau'd her as twere _Iuno's_ selfe,
+      And made the Peacocks draw her._                                80
+
+        Doron. _Ile borrow _Phoebus_ fiery Iades,
+      With which about the world he trades,
+      And put them in my Plow._
+
+        Dorilus. _O thou most perfect frantique man,
+      Yet let thy rage be what it can,
+      Ile be as mad as thou._
+
+        Doron. _Ile to great _Iove_, hap good, hap ill,
+      Though he with Thunder threat to kill,
+      And beg of him a boone._
+
+        Dorilus. _To swerue vp one of _Cynthias_ beames,              90
+      And there to bath thee in the streames.
+      Discouerd in the Moone._
+
+        Doron. _Come frolick Youth and follow me,
+      My frantique boy, and Ile show thee
+      The Countrey of the Fayries._
+
+        Dorilus. _The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow
+      In noonshade of the Mistletow,
+      And where the Phoenix Aryes._
+
+        Doron. _Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,
+      The Caverns where the Winds are bred,                          100
+      Since thus thou talkst of showing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,
+      That wondrous and eternall spring
+      Whence th' Ocean hath its flowing._
+
+        Doron. _We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,
+      Where snoring _Morpheus_ doth keepe,
+      And wake the drowsy Groome._
+
+        Dorilus. _Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,
+      The Stooles vpon the Floare we'll throw,
+      And roare about the Roome._                                    110
+
+    The Muses here commanded them to stay,
+    Commending much the caridge of their Lay
+    As greatly pleasd at this their madding Bout,
+    To heare how brauely they had borne it out
+    From first to the last, of which they were right glad,
+    By this they found that _Helicon_ still had
+    That vertue it did anciently retaine
+    When _Orpheus Lynus_ and th' Ascrean Swaine
+    Tooke lusty Rowses, which hath made their Rimes,
+    To last so long to all succeeding times.                         120
+    And now amongst this beauteous Beauie here,
+    Two wanton Nimphes, though dainty ones they were,
+    _Naijs_ and _Cloe_ in their female fits
+    Longing to show the sharpnesse of their wits,
+    Of the _nine Sisters_ speciall leaue doe craue
+    That the next Bout they two might freely haue,
+    Who hauing got the suffrages of all,
+    Thus to their Rimeing instantly they fall.
+
+        Naijs. _Amongst you all let us see
+      Who ist opposes mee,                                           130
+      Come on the proudest she
+      To answere my dittye._
+
+        Cloe. _Why _Naijs_, that am I,
+      Who dares thy pride defie.
+      And that we soone shall try
+      Though thou be witty._
+
+        Naijs. Cloe _I scorne my Rime
+      Should obserue feet or time,
+      Now I fall, then I clime,
+      Where i'st I dare not._                                        140
+
+        Cloe. _Giue thy Invention wing,
+      And let her flert and fling,
+      Till downe the Rocks she ding,
+      For that I care not._
+
+        Naijs. _This presence delights me,
+      My freedome inuites me,
+      The Season excytes me,
+      In Rime to be merry._
+
+        Cloe. _And I beyond measure,
+      Am rauisht with pleasure,                                      150
+      To answer each Ceasure,
+      Untill thou beist weary._
+
+        Naijs. _Behold the Rosye Dawne,
+      Rises in Tinsild Lawne,
+      And smiling seemes to fawne,
+      Vpon the mountaines._
+
+        Cloe. _Awaked from her Dreames,
+      Shooting foorth goulden Beames
+      Dansing vpon the Streames
+      Courting the Fountaines._                                      160
+
+        Naijs. _These more then sweet Showrets,
+      Intice vp these Flowrets,
+      To trim vp our Bowrets,
+      Perfuming our Coats._
+
+        Cloe. _Whilst the Birds billing
+      Each one with his Dilling
+      The thickets still filling
+      With Amorous Noets._
+
+        Naijs. _The Bees vp in hony rould,
+      More then their thighes can hould,                             170
+      Lapt in their liquid gould,
+      Their Treasure vs Bringing._
+
+        Cloe. _To these Rillets purling
+      Vpon the stones Curling,
+      And oft about wherling,
+      Dance tow'ard their springing._
+
+        Naijs. _The Wood-Nimphes sit singing,
+      Each Groue with notes ringing
+      Whilst fresh Ver is flinging
+      Her Bounties abroad._                                          180
+
+        Cloe. _So much as the Turtle,
+      Upon the low Mertle,
+      To the meads fertle,
+      Her cares doth unload._
+
+        Naijs. _Nay 'tis a world to see,
+      In euery bush and Tree,
+      The Birds with mirth and glee,
+      Woo'd as they woe._
+
+        Cloe. _The Robin and the Wren,
+      Every Cocke with his Hen,                                      190
+      Why should not we and men,
+      Doe as they doe._
+
+        Naijs. _The Faires are hopping,
+      The small Flowers cropping,
+      And with dew dropping,
+      Skip thorow the Greaues._
+
+        Cloe. _At Barly-breake they play
+      Merrily all the day,
+      At night themselues they lay
+      Vpon the soft leaues._                                         200
+
+        Naijs. _The gentle winds sally,
+      Vpon every Valley,
+      And many times dally
+      And wantonly sport._
+
+        Cloe. _About the fields tracing,
+      Each other in chasing,
+      And often imbracing,
+      In amorous sort._
+
+        Naijs. _And Eccho oft doth tell
+      Wondrous things from her Cell,                                 210
+      As her what chance befell,
+      Learning to prattle._
+
+        Cloe. _And now she sits and mocks
+      The Shepherds and their flocks,
+      And the Heards from the Rocks
+      Keeping their Cattle._
+
+    When to these Maids the Muses silence cry,
+    For 'twas the opinion of the Company,
+    That were not these two taken of, that they
+    Would in their Conflict wholly spend the day.                    220
+    When as the Turne to _Florimel_ next came,
+    A Nimph for Beauty of especiall name,
+    Yet was she not so Iolly as the rest:
+    And though she were by her companions prest,
+    Yet she by no intreaty would be wrought
+    To sing, as by th' Elizian Lawes she ought:
+    When two bright Nimphes that her companions were,
+    And of all other onely held her deare,
+    Mild _Claris_ and _Mertilla_, with faire speech
+    Their most beloued _Florimel_ beseech,                           230
+    T'obserue the Muses, and the more to wooe her,
+    They take their turnes, and thus they sing vnto her.
+
+        Cloris. _Sing, _Florimel_, O sing, and wee
+      Our whole wealth will giue to thee,
+      We'll rob the brim of euery Fountaine,
+      Strip the sweets from euery Mountaine,
+      We will sweepe the curled valleys,
+      Brush the bancks that mound our allyes,
+      We will muster natures dainties
+      When she wallowes in her plentyes,                             240
+      The lushyous smell of euery flower
+      New washt by an Aprill shower,
+      The Mistresse of her store we'll make thee
+      That she for her selfe shall take thee;
+      Can there be a dainty thing,
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._
+
+        Mertilla. _When the dew in May distilleth,
+      And the Earths rich bosome filleth,
+      And with Pearle embrouds each Meadow,
+      We will make them like a widow,                                250
+      And in all their Beauties dresse thee,
+      And of all their spoiles possesse thee,
+      With all the bounties Zephyre brings,
+      Breathing on the yearely springs,
+      The gaudy bloomes of euery Tree
+      In their most beauty when they be,
+      What is here that may delight thee,
+      Or to pleasure may excite thee,
+      Can there be a dainty thing
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._                           260
+
+    But _Florimel_ still sullenly replyes
+    I will not sing at all, let that suffice:
+    When as a Nimph one of the merry ging
+    Seeing she no way could be wonne to sing;
+    Come, come, quoth she, ye vtterly vndoe her
+    With your intreaties, and your reuerence to her;
+    For praise nor prayers, she careth not a pin;
+    They that our froward _Florimel_ would winne,
+    Must worke another way, let me come to her,
+    Either Ile make her sing, or Ile vndoe her.                      270
+
+        Claia. Florimel _I thus coniure thee,
+      Since their gifts cannot alure thee;
+      By stampt Garlick, that doth stink
+      Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,
+      By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet
+      As any Clownes or Carriers feet,
+      By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels
+      Raysing blisters like the measels,
+      By the rough Burbreeding docks,
+      Rancker then the oldest Fox,                                   280
+      By filthy Hemblock, poysning more
+      Then any vlcer or old sore,
+      By the Cockle in the corne,
+      That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,
+      By Hempe in water that hath layne,
+      By whose stench the Fish are slayne,
+      By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,
+      If you haue a minde to cast,
+      May all filthy stinking Weeds
+      That e'r bore leafe, or e'r had seeds,_                        290
+      Florimel _be giuen to thee,
+      If thou'lt not sing as well as wee._
+
+    At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,
+    Amongst the rest the beauteous _Florimel_,
+    (Pleasd with the spell from _Claia_ that came,
+    A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)
+    As gamesome growes as any of them all,
+    And to this ditty instantly doth fall.
+
+        Florimel. _How in my thoughts should I contriue
+      The Image I am framing,                                        300
+      Which is so farre superlatiue,
+      As tis beyond all naming;
+      I would _Ioue_ of my counsell make,
+      And haue his judgement in it,
+      But that I doubt he would mistake
+      How rightly to begin it,
+      It must be builded in the Ayre,
+      And tis my thoughts must doo it,
+      And onely they must be the stayre
+      From earth to mount me to it,                                  310
+      For of my Sex I frame my Lay,
+      Each houre, our selues forsaking,
+      How should I then finde out the way
+      To this my vndertaking,
+      When our weake Fancies working still,
+      Yet changing every minnit,
+      Will shew that it requires some skill,
+      Such difficulty's in it.
+      We would things, yet we know not what,
+      And let our will be granted,                                   320
+      Yet instantly we finde in that
+      Something vnthought of wanted:
+      Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,
+      As with our motions varry,
+      Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,
+      With us they neuer tarry:
+      Some worldly crosse doth still attend,
+      What long we haue in spinning,
+      And e'r we fully get the end
+      We lose of our beginning.                                      330
+      Our pollicies so peevish are,
+      That with themselues they wrangle,
+      And many times become the snare
+      That soonest vs intangle;
+      For that the Loue we beare our Friends
+      Though nere so strongly grounded,
+      Hath in it certaine oblique ends
+      If to the bottome sounded:
+      Our owne well wishing making it,
+      A pardonable Treason;                                          340
+      For that is deriud from witt,
+      And vnderpropt with reason.
+      For our Deare selues beloued sake
+      (Euen in the depth of passion)
+      Our Center though our selues we make,
+      Yet is not that our station;
+      For whilst our Browes ambitious be
+      And youth at hand awayts vs,
+      It is a pretty thing to see
+      How finely Beautie cheats vs,                                  350
+      And whilst with tyme we tryfling stand
+      To practise Antique graces
+      Age with a pale and withered hand
+      Drawes Furowes in our faces._
+
+    When they which so desirous were before
+    To hear her sing; desirous are far more
+    To haue her cease; and call to haue her stayd
+    For she to much alredy had bewray'd.
+    And as the _thrice three Sisters_ thus had grac'd
+    Their Celebration, and themselues had plac'd                     360
+    Vpon a Violet banck, in order all
+    Where they at will might view the Festifall
+    The Nimphs and all the lusty youth that were
+    At this braue Nimphall, by them honored there,
+    To Gratifie the heauenly Gerles againe
+    Lastly prepare in state to entertaine
+    Those sacred Sisters, fairely and confer,
+    On each of them, their prayse particular
+    And thus the Nimphes to the nine Muses sung.
+    When as the Youth and Forresters among                           370
+    That well prepared for this businesse were,
+    Become the _Chorus_, and thus sung they there.
+
+        Nimphes. Clio _then first of those Celestiall nine
+      That daily offer to the sacred shryne,
+      Of wise _Apollo_; Queene of Stories,
+      Thou that vindicat'st the glories
+      Of passed ages, and renewst
+      Their acts which euery day thou viewst,
+      And from a lethargy dost keepe
+      Old nodding time, else prone to sleepe._                       380
+
+        Chorus. Clio _O craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs, for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Melpomine _thou melancholly Maid
+      Next, to wise _Phoebus_ we inuoke thy ayd,
+      In Buskins that dost stride the Stage,
+      And in thy deepe distracted rage,
+      In blood-shed that dost take delight,
+      Thy obiect the most fearfull sight,                            390
+      That louest the sighes, the shreekes, and sounds
+      Of horrors, that arise from wounds._
+
+        Chorus. _Sad Muse, O craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Comick _Thalia_ then we come to thee,
+      Thou mirthfull Mayden, onely that in glee
+      And loues deceits, thy pleasure tak'st,
+      Of which thy varying Scene that mak'st                         400
+      And in thy nimble Sock do'st stirre
+      Loude laughter through the Theater,
+      That with the Peasant mak'st the sport,
+      As well as with the better sort._
+
+        Chorus. Thalia _craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier;
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life, and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Euterpe _next to thee we will proceed,
+      That first sound'st out the Musick on the Reed,                410
+      With breath and fingers giu'ng life,
+      To the shrill Cornet and the Fyfe.
+      Teaching euery stop and kaye,
+      To those vpon the Pipe that playe,
+      Those which Wind-Instruments we call
+      Or soft, or lowd, or greate, or small,_
+
+        Chorus. Euterpe _aske of _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    420
+
+        Nimphes. Terpsichore _that of the Lute and Lyre,
+      And Instruments that sound with Cords and wyere,
+      That art the Mistres, to commaund
+      The touch of the most Curious hand,
+      When euery Quauer doth Imbrace
+      His like in a true Diapase,
+      And euery string his sound doth fill
+      Toucht with the Finger or the Quill._
+
+        Chorus. Terpsichore, _craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier                        430
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Erato_ wise muse on thee we call,
+      In Lynes to vs that do'st demonstrate all,
+      Which neatly, with thy staffe and Bowe,
+      Do'st measure, and proportion showe;
+      Motion and Gesture that dost teach
+      That euery height and depth canst reach,
+      And do'st demonstrate by thy Art
+      What nature else would not Impart._                            440
+
+        Chorus. _Deare _Erato_ craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _To thee then braue _Caliope_ we come
+      Thou that maintain'st, the Trumpet, and the Drum;
+      The neighing Steed that louest to heare,
+      Clashing of Armes doth please thine eare,
+      In lofty Lines that do'st rehearse
+      Things worthy of a thundring verse,                            450
+      And at no tyme are heard to straine,
+      On ought that suits a Common vayne._
+
+        Chorus. Caliope_, craue _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Polyhymnia_ most delicious Mayd,
+      In Rhetoricks Flowers that art arayd,
+      In Tropes and Figures, richly drest,
+      The Fyled Phrase that louest best,                             460
+      That art all Elocution, and
+      The first that gau'st to vnderstand
+      The force of wordes in order plac'd
+      And with a sweet deliuery grac'd._
+
+        Chorus. _Sweet Muse perswade our _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Lofty _Vrania_ then we call to thee,
+      To whom the Heauens for euer opened be,                        470
+      Thou th' Asterismes by name dost call,
+      And shewst when they doe rise and fall
+      Each Planets force, and dost diuine
+      His working, seated in his Signe,
+      And how the starry Frame still roules
+      Betwixt the fixed stedfast Poles._
+
+        Chorus. Vrania _aske of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    480
+
+
+The fourth Nimphall
+
+CLORIS and MERTILLA.
+
+                _Chaste _Cloris_ doth disclose the shames
+                Of the Felician frantique Dames,_
+                Mertilla _striues t' apease her woe,
+                To golden wishes then they goe._
+
+              _Mertilla._ Why how now _Cloris_, what, thy head
+            Bound with forsaken Willow?
+            Is the cold ground become thy bed?
+            The grasse become thy Pillow?
+            O let not those life-lightning eyes
+            In this sad vayle be shrowded,
+            Which into mourning puts the Skyes,
+            To see them ouer-clowded.
+
+              _Cloris._ O my _Mertilla_ doe not praise
+            These Lampes so dimly burning,                            10
+            Such sad and sullen lights as these
+            Were onely made for mourning:
+            Their obiects are the barren Rocks
+            With aged Mosse o'r shaded;
+            Now whilst the Spring layes forth her Locks
+            With blossomes brauely braded.
+
+              _Mertilla._ O _Cloris_, Can there be a Spring,
+            O my deare Nimph, there may not,
+            Wanting thine eyes it forth to bring,
+            Without which Nature cannot:                              20
+            Say what it is that troubleth thee
+            Encreast by thy concealing,
+            Speake; sorrowes many times we see
+            Are lesned by reuealing.
+
+              _Cloris._ Being of late too vainely bent
+            And but at too much leisure;
+            Not with our Groves and Downes content,
+            But surfetting in pleasure;
+            Felicia's Fields I would goe see,
+            Where fame to me reported,                                30
+            The choyce Nimphes of the world to be
+            From meaner beauties sorted;
+            Hoping that I from them might draw
+            Some graces to delight me,
+            But there such monstrous shapes I saw,
+            That to this houre affright me.
+            Throw the thick Hayre, that thatch'd their Browes,
+            Their eyes vpon me stared,
+            Like to those raging frantique Froes
+            For _Bacchus_ Feasts prepared:                            40
+            Their Bodies, although straight by kinde,
+            Yet they so monstrous make them,
+            That for huge Bags blowne vp with wind,
+            You very well may take them.
+            Their Bowels in their Elbowes are,
+            Whereon depend their Panches,
+            And their deformed Armes by farre
+            Made larger than their Hanches:
+            For their behauiour and their grace,
+            Which likewise should haue priz'd them,                   50
+            Their manners were as beastly base
+            As th' rags that so disguisd them;
+            All Anticks, all so impudent,
+            So fashon'd out of fashion,
+            As blacke _Cocytus_ vp had sent
+            Her Fry into this nation,
+            Whose monstrousnesse doth so perplex,
+            Of Reason and depriues me,
+            That for their sakes I loath my sex,
+            Which to this sadnesse driues me.                         60
+
+              _Mertilla._ O my deare _Cloris_ be not sad,
+            Nor with these Furies danted,
+            But let these female fooles be mad,
+            With Hellish pride inchanted;
+            Let not thy noble thoughts descend
+            So low as their affections;
+            Whom neither counsell can amend,
+            Nor yet the Gods corrections:
+            Such mad folks ne'r let vs bemoane,
+            But rather scorne their folly,                            70
+            And since we two are here alone,
+            To banish melancholly,
+            Leaue we this lowly creeping vayne
+            Not worthy admiration,
+            And in a braue and lofty strayne,
+            Lets exercise our passion,
+            With wishes of each others good,
+            From our abundant treasures,
+            And in this iocund sprightly mood:
+            Thus alter we our measures.                               80
+
+      _Mertilla._ O I could wish this place were strewd with Roses,
+    And that this Banck were thickly thrumd with Grasse
+    As soft as Sleaue, or Sarcenet euer was,
+    Whereon my _Cloris_ her sweet selfe reposes.
+
+      _Cloris._ O that these Dewes Rosewater were for thee,
+    These Mists Perfumes that hang vpon these thicks,
+    And that the Winds were all Aromaticks,
+    Which, if my wish could make them, they should bee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that my Bottle one whole Diamond were,
+    So fild with Nectar that a Flye might sup,                        90
+    And at one draught that thou mightst drinke it vp,
+    Yet a Carouse not good enough I feare.
+
+      _Cloris._ That all the Pearle, the Seas, or Indias haue
+    Were well dissolu'd, and thereof made a Lake,
+    Thou there in bathing, and I by to take
+    Pleasure to see thee cleerer than the Waue.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the Hornes of all the Heards we see,
+    Were of fine gold, or else that euery horne
+    Were like to that one of the Vnicorne,
+    And of all these, not one but were thy Fee.                      100
+
+      _Cloris._ O that their Hooues were Iuory, or some thing,
+    Then the pur'st Iuory farre more Christalline,
+    Fild with the food wherewith the Gods doe dine,
+    To keepe thy Youth in a continuall Spring.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the sweets of all the Flowers that grow,
+    The labouring ayre would gather into one,
+    In Gardens, Fields, nor Meadowes leauing none,
+    And all their Sweetnesse vpon thee would throw.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay that those sweet harmonious straines we heare,
+    Amongst the liuely Birds melodious Layes,                        110
+    As they recording sit vpon the Sprayes,
+    Were houering still for Musick at thine eare.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that thy name were caru'd on euery Tree,
+    That as these plants still great, and greater grow,
+    Thy name deare Nimph might be enlarged so,
+    That euery Groue and Coppis might speake thee.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay would thy name vpon their Rynds were set,
+    And by the Nimphes so oft and lowdly spoken,
+    As that the Ecchoes to that language broken
+    Thy happy name might hourely counterfet.                         120
+
+      _Mertilla._ O let the Spring still put sterne winter by,
+    And in rich Damaske let her Reuell still,
+    As it should doe if I might haue my will,
+    That thou mightst still walke on her Tapistry;
+    And thus since Fate no longer time alowes
+    Vnder this broad and shady Sicamore,
+    Where now we sit, as we haue oft before;
+    Those yet vnborne shall offer vp their Vowes.
+
+
+The fift Nimphall
+
+CLAIA, LELIPA, CLARINAX a Hermit.
+
+
+      _Of Garlands, Anadems, and Wreathes,
+      This Nimphall nought but sweetnesse breathes,
+      Presents you with delicious Posies,
+      And with powerfull Simples closes._
+
+      _Claia._ See where old _Clarinax_ is set,
+    His sundry Simples sorting,
+    From whose experience we may get
+    What worthy is reporting.
+    Then _Lelipa_ let vs draw neere,
+    Whilst he his weedes is weathering,
+    I see some powerfull Simples there
+    That he hath late bin gathering.
+    Hail gentle Hermit, _Iove_ thee speed,
+    And haue thee in his keeping,                                     10
+    And euer helpe thee at thy need,
+    Be thou awake or sleeping.
+
+      _Clarinax._ Ye payre of most Celestiall lights,
+    O Beauties three times burnisht,
+    Who could expect such heauenly wights
+    With Angels features furnisht;
+    What God doth guide you to this place,
+    To blesse my homely Bower?
+    It cannot be but this high grace
+    Proceeds from some high power;                                    20
+    The houres like hand-maids still attend,
+    Disposed at your pleasure,
+    Ordayned to noe other end
+    But to awaite your leasure;
+    The Deawes drawne vp into the Aer,
+    And by your breathes perfumed,
+    In little Clouds doe houer there
+    As loath to be consumed:
+    The Aer moues not but as you please,
+    So much sweet Nimphes it owes you,                                30
+    The winds doe cast them to their ease,
+    And amorously inclose you.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Be not too lauish of thy praise,
+    Thou good Elizian Hermit,
+    Lest some to heare such words as these,
+    Perhaps may flattery tearme it;
+    But of your Simples something say,
+    Which may discourse affoord vs,
+    We know your knowledge lyes that way,
+    With subiects you haue stor'd vs.                                 40
+
+      _Claia._ We know for Physick yours you get,
+    Which thus you heere are sorting,
+    And vpon garlands we are set,
+    With Wreathes and Posyes sporting:
+
+      _Lelipa._ The Chaplet and the Anadem,
+    The curled Tresses crowning,
+    We looser Nimphes delight in them,
+    Not in your Wreathes renowning.
+
+      _Clarinax._ The Garland long agoe was worne,
+    As Time pleased to bestow it,                                     50
+    The Lawrell onely to adorne
+    The Conquerer and the Poet.
+    The Palme his due, who vncontrould,
+    On danger looking grauely,
+    When Fate had done the worst it could,
+    Who bore his Fortunes brauely.
+    Most worthy of the Oken Wreath
+    The Ancients him esteemed,
+    Who in a Battle had from death
+    Some man of worth redeemed.                                       60
+    About his temples Grasse they tye,
+    Himselfe that so behaued
+    In some strong Seedge by th' Enemy,
+    A City that hath saued.
+    A Wreath of Vervaine Herhauts weare,
+    Amongst our Garlands named,
+    Being sent that dreadfull newes to beare,
+    Offensiue warre proclaimed.
+    The Signe of Peace who first displayes,
+    The Oliue Wreath possesses:                                       70
+    The Louer with the Myrtle Sprayes
+    Adornes his crisped Tresses.
+    In Loue the sad forsaken wight
+    The Willow Garland weareth:
+    The Funerall man befitting night,
+    The balefull Cipresse beareth.
+    To _Pan_ we dedicate the Pine,
+    Whose Slips the Shepherd graceth:
+    Againe the Ivie and the Vine
+    On his, swolne _Bacchus_ placeth.                                 80
+
+      _Claia._ The Boughes and Sprayes, of which you tell,
+    By you are rightly named,
+    But we with those of pretious smell
+    And colours are enflamed;
+    The noble Ancients to excite
+    Men to doe things worth crowning,
+    Not vnperformed left a Rite,
+    To heighten their renowning:
+    But they that those rewards deuis'd,
+    And those braue wights that wore them                             90
+    By these base times, though poorely priz'd,
+    Yet Hermit we adore them.
+    The store of euery fruitfull Field
+    We Nimphes at will possessing,
+    From that variety they yeeld
+    Get flowers for euery dressing:
+    Of which a Garland Ile compose,
+    Then busily attend me.
+    These flowers I for that purpose chose,
+    But where I misse amend me.                                      100
+
+      _Clarinax._ Well _Claia_ on with your intent,
+    Lets see how you will weaue it,
+    Which done, here for a monument
+    I hope with me, you'll leaue it.
+
+      _Claia._ Here Damaske Roses, white and red,
+    Out of my lap first take I,
+    Which still shall runne along the thred,
+    My chiefest Flower this make I:
+    Amongst these Roses in a row,
+    Next place I Pinks in plenty,                                    110
+    These double Daysyes then for show,
+    And will not this be dainty.
+    The pretty Pansy then Ile tye
+    Like Stones some Chaine inchasing,
+    And next to them their neere Alye,
+    The purple Violet placing.
+    The curious choyce, Clove Iuly-flower,
+    Whose kinds hight the Carnation
+    For sweetnesse of most soueraine power
+    Shall helpe my Wreath to fashion.                                120
+    Whose sundry cullers of one kinde
+    First from one Root derived,
+    Them in their seuerall sutes Ile binde,
+    My Garland so contriued;
+    A course of Cowslips then I'll stick,
+    And here and there though sparely
+    The pleasant Primrose downe Ile prick
+    Like Pearles, which will show rarely:
+    Then with these Marygolds Ile make
+    My Garland somewhat swelling,                                    130
+    These Honysuckles then Ile take,
+    Whose sweets shall helpe their smelling:
+    The Lilly and the Flower delice,
+    For colour much contenting,
+    For that, I them doe only prize,
+    They are but pore in senting:
+    The Daffadill most dainty is
+    To match with these in meetnesse;
+    The Columbyne compar'd to this,
+    All much alike for sweetnesse.                                   140
+    These in their natures onely are
+    Fit to embosse the border,
+    Therefore Ile take especiall care
+    To place them in their order:
+    Sweet-Williams, Campions, Sops-in-Wine
+    One by another neatly:
+    Thus haue I made this Wreath of mine,
+    And finished it featly.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Your Garland thus you finisht haue,
+    Then as we haue attended                                         150
+    Your leasure, likewise let me craue
+    I may the like be friended.
+    Those gaudy garish Flowers you chuse,
+    In which our Nimphes are flaunting,
+    Which they at Feasts and Brydals vse,
+    The sight and smell inchanting:
+    A Chaplet me of Hearbs Ile make
+    Then which though yours be brauer,
+    Yet this of myne I'le vndertake
+    Shall not be short in fauour.                                    160
+    With Basill then I will begin,
+    Whose scent is wondrous pleasing,
+    This Eglantine I'le next put in,
+    The sense with sweetnes seasing.
+    Then in my Lauender I'le lay,
+    Muscado put among it,
+    And here and there a leafe of Bay,
+    Which still shall runne along it.
+    Germander, Marieram, and Tyme
+    Which vsed are for strewing,                                     170
+    With Hisop as an hearbe most pryme
+    Here in my wreath bestowing.
+    Then Balme and Mynt helps to make vp
+    My Chaplet, and for Tryall,
+    Costmary that so likes the Cup,
+    And next it Penieryall
+    Then Burnet shall beare vp with this
+    Whose leafe I greatly fansy,
+    Some Camomile doth not amisse,
+    With Sauory and some Tansy,                                      180
+    Then heere and there I'le put a sprig
+    Of Rosemary into it
+    Thus not too little or too big
+    Tis done if I can doe it.
+
+      _Clarinax._ _Claia_ your Garland is most gaye,
+    Compos'd of curious Flowers,
+    And so most louely _Lelipa_,
+    This Chaplet is of yours,
+    In goodly Gardens yours you get
+    Where you your laps haue laded;                                  190
+    My symples are by Nature set,
+    In Groues and Fields vntraded.
+    Your Flowers most curiously you twyne,
+    Each one his place supplying.
+    But these rough harsher Hearbs of mine,
+    About me rudely lying,
+    Of which some dwarfish Weeds there be,
+    Some of a larger stature,
+    Some by experience as we see,
+    Whose names expresse their nature,                               200
+    Heere is my Moly of much fame,
+    In Magicks often vsed,
+    Mugwort and Night-shade for the same
+    But not by me abused;
+    Here Henbane, Popy, Hemblock here,
+    Procuring Deadly sleeping,
+    Which I doe minister with Feare,
+    Not fit for each mans keeping.
+    Heere holy Veruayne, and heere Dill,
+    Against witchcraft much auailing.                                210
+    Here Horhound gainst the Mad dogs ill
+    By biting, neuer failing.
+    Here Mandrake that procureth loue,
+    In poysning philters mixed,
+    And makes the Barren fruitfull proue,
+    The Root about them fixed.
+    Inchaunting Lunary here lyes
+    In Sorceries excelling,
+    And this is Dictam, which we prize
+    Shot shafts and Darts expelling,                                 220
+    Here Saxifrage against the stone
+    That Powerfull is approued,
+    Here Dodder by whose helpe alone,
+    Ould Agues are remoued
+    Here Mercury, here Helibore,
+    Ould Vlcers mundifying,
+    And Shepheards-Purse the Flux most sore,
+    That helpes by the applying;
+    Here wholsome Plantane, that the payne
+    Of Eyes and Eares appeases;                                      230
+    Here cooling Sorrell that againe
+    We vse in hot diseases:
+    The medcinable Mallow here,
+    Asswaging sudaine Tumors,
+    The iagged Polypodium there,
+    To purge ould rotten humors,
+    Next these here Egremony is,
+    That helpes the Serpents byting,
+    The blessed Betony by this,
+    Whose cures deseruen writing:                                    240
+    This All-heale, and so nam'd of right,
+    New wounds so quickly healing,
+    A thousand more I could recyte,
+    Most worthy of Reuealing,
+    But that I hindred am by Fate,
+    And busnesse doth preuent me,
+    To cure a mad man, which of late
+    Is from Felicia sent me.
+
+      _Claia._ Nay then thou hast inough to doe,
+    We pity thy enduring,                                            250
+    For they are there infected soe,
+    That they are past thy curing.
+
+
+The sixt Nimphall
+
+SILVIVS, HALCIVS, MELANTHVS.
+
+    _A Woodman, Fisher, and a Swaine
+      This Nimphall through with mirth maintaine,
+    Whose pleadings so the Nimphes doe please,
+      That presently they giue them Bayes._
+
+    Cleere had the day bin from the dawne,
+    All chequerd was the Skye,
+    Thin Clouds like Scarfs of Cobweb Lawne
+    Vayld Heauen's most glorious eye.
+    The Winde had no more strength then this,
+    That leasurely it blew,
+    To make one leafe the next to kisse,
+    That closly by it grew.
+    The Rils that on the Pebbles playd,
+    Might now be heard at will;                                       10
+    This world they onely Musick made,
+    Else euerything was still.
+    The Flowers like braue embraudred Gerles,
+    Lookt as they much desired,
+    To see whose head with orient Pearles,
+    Most curiously was tyred;
+    And to it selfe the subtle Ayre,
+    Such souerainty assumes,
+    That it receiu'd too large a share
+    From natures rich perfumes.                                       20
+    When the Elizian Youth were met,
+    That were of most account,
+    And to disport themselues were set
+    Vpon an easy Mount:
+    Neare which, of stately Firre and Pine
+    There grew abundant store,
+    The Tree that weepeth Turpentine,
+    And shady Sicamore.
+    Amongst this merry youthfull trayne
+    A Forrester they had,                                             30
+    A Fisher, and a Shepheards swayne
+    A liuely Countrey Lad:
+    Betwixt which three a question grew,
+    Who should the worthiest be,
+    Which violently they pursue,
+    Nor stickled would they be.
+    That it the Company doth please
+    This ciuill strife to stay,
+    Freely to heare what each of these
+    For his braue selfe could say:                                    40
+    When first this Forrester (of all)
+    That _Silvius_ had to name,
+    To whom the Lot being cast doth fall,
+    Doth thus begin the Game.
+
+      _Silvius._ For my profession then, and for the life I lead,
+    All others to excell, thus for my selfe I plead;
+    I am the Prince of sports, the Forrest is my Fee,
+    He's not vpon the Earth for pleasure liues like me;
+    The Morne no sooner puts her rosye Mantle on,
+    But from my quyet Lodge I instantly am gone,                      50
+    When the melodious Birds from euery Bush and Bryer,
+    Of the wilde spacious Wasts, make a continuall quire;
+    The motlied Meadowes then, new vernisht with the Sunne
+    Shute vp their spicy sweets vpon the winds that runne,
+    In easly ambling Gales, and softly seeme to pace,
+    That it the longer might their lushiousnesse imbrace:
+    I am clad in youthfull Greene, I other colour, scorne,
+    My silken Bauldrick beares my Beugle, or my Horne,
+    Which setting to my Lips, I winde so lowd and shrill,
+    As makes the Ecchoes showte from euery neighbouring Hill:         60
+    My Doghooke at my Belt, to which my Lyam's tyde,
+    My Sheafe of Arrowes by, my Woodknife at my Syde,
+    My Crosse-bow in my Hand, my Gaffle or my Rack
+    To bend it when I please, or it I list to slack,
+    My Hound then in my Lyam, I by the Woodmans art
+    Forecast, where I may lodge the goodly Hie-palm'd Hart,
+    To viewe the grazing Heards, so sundry times I vse,
+    Where by the loftiest Head I know my Deare to chuse,
+    And to vnheard him then, I gallop o'r the ground
+    Vpon my wel-breath'd Nag, to cheere my earning Hound.             70
+    Sometime I pitch my Toyles the Deare aliue to take,
+    Sometime I like the Cry, the deep-mouth'd Kennell make,
+    Then vnderneath my Horse, I staulke my game to strike,
+    And with a single Dog to hunt him hurt, I like.
+    The Siluians are to me true subiects, I their King,
+    The stately Hart, his Hind doth to my presence bring,
+    The Buck his loued Doe, the Roe his tripping Mate,
+    Before me to my Bower, whereas I sit in State.
+    The Dryads, Hamadryads, the Satyres and the Fawnes
+    Oft play at Hyde and Seeke before me on the Lawnes,               80
+    The frisking Fayry oft when horned Cinthia shines
+    Before me as I walke dance wanton Matachynes,
+    The numerous feathered flocks that the wild Forrests haunt
+    Their Siluan songs to me, in cheerefull dittyes chaunte,
+    The Shades like ample Sheelds, defend me from the Sunne,
+    Through which me to refresh the gentle Riuelets runne,
+    No little bubling Brook from any Spring that falls
+    But on the Pebbles playes me pretty Madrigals.
+    I' th' morne I clime the Hills, where wholsome winds do blow,
+    At Noone-tyde to the Vales, and shady Groues below,               90
+    T'wards Euening I againe the Chrystall Floods frequent,
+    In pleasure thus my life continually is spent.
+    As Princes and great Lords haue Pallaces, so I
+    Haue in the Forrests here, my Hall and Gallery
+    The tall and stately Woods, which vnderneath are Plaine,
+    The Groues my Gardens are, the Heath and Downes againe
+    My wide and spacious walkes, then say all what ye can,
+    The Forrester is still your only gallant man.
+
+    He of his speech scarce made an end,
+    But him they load with prayse,                                   100
+    The Nimphes most highly him commend,
+    And vow to giue him Bayes:
+    He's now cryde vp of euery one,
+    And who but onely he,
+    The Forrester's the man alone,
+    The worthyest of the three.
+    When some then th' other farre more stayd,
+    Wil'd them a while to pause,
+    For there was more yet to be sayd,
+    That might deserve applause,                                     110
+    When _Halcius_ his turne next plyes,
+    And silence hauing wonne,
+    Roome for the fisher man he cryes,
+    And thus his Plea begunne.
+
+      _Halcius._ No Forrester, it so must not be borne away,
+    But heare what for himselfe the Fisher first can say,
+    The Chrystall current Streames continually I keepe,
+    Where euery Pearle-pau'd Foard, and euery Blew-eyd deepe
+    With me familiar are; when in my Boate being set,
+    My Oare I take in hand, my Augle and my Net                      120
+    About me; like a Prince my selfe in state I steer,
+    Now vp, now downe the Streame, now am I here, now ther,
+    The Pilot and the Fraught my selfe; and at my ease
+    Can land me where I list, or in what place I please,
+    The Siluer-scaled Sholes, about me in the Streames,
+    As thick as ye discerne the Atoms in the Beames,
+    Neare to the shady Banck where slender Sallowes grow,
+    And Willows their shag'd tops downe t'wards the waters bow
+    I shove in with my Boat to sheeld me from the heat,
+    Where chusing from my Bag, some prou'd especiall bayt,           130
+    The goodly well growne Trout I with my Angle strike,
+    And with my bearded Wyer I take the rauenous Pike,
+    Of whom when I haue hould, he seldome breakes away
+    Though at my Lynes full length, soe long I let him play
+    Till by my hand I finde he well-nere wearyed be,
+    When softly by degrees I drawe him vp to me.
+    The lusty Samon to, I oft with Angling take,
+    Which me aboue the rest most Lordly sport doth make,
+    Who feeling he is caught, such Frisks and bounds doth fetch,
+    And by his very strength my Line soe farre doth stretch,         140
+    As draws my floating Corcke downe to the very ground,
+    And wresting at my Rod, doth make my Boat turne round.
+    I neuer idle am, some tyme I bayt my Weeles,
+    With which by night I take the dainty siluer Eeles,
+    And with my Draughtnet then, I sweepe the streaming Flood,
+    And to my Tramell next, and Cast-net from the Mud,
+    I beate the Scaly brood, noe hower I idely spend,
+    But wearied with my worke I bring the day to end:
+    The Naijdes and Nymphes that in the Riuers keepe,
+    Which take into their care, the store of euery deepe,            150
+    Amongst the Flowery flags, the Bullrushes and Reed,
+    That of the Spawne haue charge (abundantly to breed)
+    Well mounted vpon Swans, their naked bodys lend
+    To my discerning eye, and on my Boate attend,
+    And dance vpon the Waues, before me (for my sake)
+    To th' Musick the soft wynd vpon the Reeds doth make
+    And for my pleasure more, the rougher Gods of Seas
+    From _Neptune's_ Court send in the blew Neriades,
+    Which from his bracky Realme vpon the Billowes ride
+    And beare the Riuers backe with euery streaming Tyde,            160
+    Those Billowes gainst my Boate, borne with delightfull Gales,
+    Oft seeming as I rowe to tell me pretty tales,
+    Whilst Ropes of liquid Pearle still load my laboring Oares,
+    As streacht vpon the Streame they stryke me to the Shores:
+    The silent medowes seeme delighted with my Layes,
+    As sitting in my Boate I sing my Lasses praise,
+    Then let them that like, the Forrester vp cry,
+    Your noble Fisher is your only man say I.
+
+    This speech of _Halcius_ turn'd the Tyde,
+    And brought it so about,                                         170
+    That all vpon the Fisher cryde,
+    That he would beare it out;
+    Him for the speech he made, to clap
+    Who lent him not a hand,
+    And said t'would be the Waters hap,
+    Quite to put downe the Land.
+    This while _Melanthus_ silent sits,
+    (For so the Shepheard hight)
+    And hauing heard these dainty wits,
+    Each pleading for his right;                                     180
+    To heare them honor'd in this wise,
+    His patience doth prouoke,
+    When for a Shepheard roome he cryes,
+    And for himselfe thus spoke.
+
+      _Melanthus._ Well Fisher you haue done, and Forrester for you
+    Your Tale is neatly tould, s'are both's to giue you due,
+    And now my turne comes next, then heare a Shepherd speak:
+    My watchfulnesse and care giues day scarce leaue to break,
+    But to the Fields I haste, my folded flock to see,
+    Where when I finde, nor Woolfe, nor Fox, hath iniur'd me,        190
+    I to my Bottle straight, and soundly baste my Throat,
+    Which done, some Country Song or Roundelay I roate
+    So merrily; that to the musick that I make,
+    I Force the Larke to sing ere she be well awake;
+    Then _Baull_ my cut-tayld Curre and I begin to play,
+    He o'r my Shephooke leapes, now th'one, now th'other way,
+    Then on his hinder feet he doth himselfe aduance,
+    I tune, and to my note, my liuely Dog doth dance,
+    Then whistle in my Fist, my fellow Swaynes to call,
+    Downe goe our Hooks and Scrips, and we to Nine-holes fall,       200
+    At Dust-point, or at Quoyts, else are we at it hard,
+    All false and cheating Games, we Shepheards are debard;
+    Suruaying of my sheepe if Ewe or Wether looke
+    As though it were amisse, or with my Curre, or Crooke
+    I take it, and when once I finde what it doth ayle,
+    It hardly hath that hurt, but that my skill can heale;
+    And when my carefull eye, I cast vpon my sheepe
+    I sort them in my Pens, and sorted soe I keepe:
+    Those that are bigst of Boane, I still reserue for breed,
+    My Cullings I put off, or for the Chapman feed.                  210
+    When the Euening doth approach I to my Bagpipe take,
+    And to my Grazing flocks such Musick then I make,
+    That they forbeare to feed; then me a King you see,
+    I playing goe before, my Subiects followe me,
+    My Bell-weather most braue, before the rest doth stalke,
+    The Father of the flocke, and after him doth walke
+    My writhen-headed Ram, with Posyes crowned in pride
+    Fast to his crooked hornes with Rybands neatly ty'd
+    And at our Shepheards Board that's cut out of the ground,
+    My fellow Swaynes and I together at it round,                    220
+    With Greencheese, clouted Cream, with Flawns, and Custards, stord,
+    Whig, Sider, and with Whey, I domineer a Lord,
+    When shering time is come I to the Riuer driue,
+    My goodly well-fleec'd Flocks: (by pleasure thus I thriue)
+    Which being washt at will; vpon the shering day,
+    My wooll I foorth in Loaks, fit for the wynder lay,
+    Which vpon lusty heapes into my Coate I heaue,
+    That in the Handling feeles as soft as any Sleaue,
+    When euery Ewe two Lambes, that yeaned hath that yeare,
+    About her new shorne neck a Chaplet then doth weare;             230
+    My Tarboxe, and my Scrip, my Bagpipe, at my back,
+    My Sheephooke in my hand, what can I say I lacke;
+    He that a Scepter swayd, a sheephooke in his hand,
+    Hath not disdaind to haue, for Shepheards then I stand;
+    Then Forester and you my Fisher cease your strife
+    I say your Shepheard leads your onely merry life,
+
+    They had not cryd the Forester,
+    And Fisher vp before,
+    So much: but now the Nimphes preferre,
+    The Shephard ten tymes more,                                     240
+    And all the Ging goes on his side,
+    Their Minion him they make,
+    To him themselues they all apply'd,
+    And all his partie take;
+    Till some in their discretion cast,
+    Since first the strife begunne,
+    In all that from them there had past
+    None absolutly wonne;
+    That equall honour they should share;
+    And their deserts to showe,                                      250
+    For each a Garland they prepare,
+    Which they on them bestowe,
+    Of all the choisest flowers that weare,
+    Which purposly they gather,
+    With which they Crowne them, parting there,
+    As they came first together.
+
+
+The seuenth Nimphall
+
+FLORIMEL, LELIPA, NAIJS, CODRVS a
+Feriman.
+
+
+          _The Nimphes, the Queene of loue pursue,
+          Which oft doth hide her from their view:
+          But lastly from th' Elizian Nation,
+          She banisht is by Proclamation_.
+
+      _Florimel._ Deare _Lelipa_, where hast thou bin so long,
+    Was't not enough for thee to doe me wrong;
+    To rob me of thy selfe, but with more spight
+    To take my _Naijs_ from me, my delight?
+    Yee lazie Girles, your heads where haue ye layd,
+    Whil'st _Venus_ here her anticke prankes hath playd?
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay _Florimel_, we should of you enquire,
+    The onely Mayden, whom we all admire
+    For Beauty, Wit, and Chastity, that you
+    Amongst the rest of all our Virgin crue,                          10
+    In quest of her, that you so slacke should be,
+    And leaue the charge to Naijs and to me.
+
+      _Florimel._ Y'are much mistaken _Lelipa_, 'twas I,
+    Of all the Nimphes, that first did her descry,
+    At our great Hunting, when as in the Chase
+    Amongst the rest, me thought I saw one face
+    So exceeding faire, and curious, yet vnknowne
+    That I that face not possibly could owne.
+    And in the course, so Goddesse like a gate,
+    Each step so full of maiesty and state;                           20
+    That with my selfe, I thus resolu'd that she
+    Lesse then a Goddesse (surely) could not be:
+    Thus as _Idalia_, stedfastly I ey'd,
+    A little Nimphe that kept close by her side
+    I noted, as vnknowne as was the other,
+    Which _Cupid_ was disguis'd so by his mother.
+    The little purblinde Rogue, if you had seene,
+    You would haue thought he verily had beene
+    One of _Diana's_ Votaries so clad,
+    He euery thing so like a Huntresse had:                           30
+    And she had put false eyes into his head,
+    That very well he might vs all haue sped.
+    And still they kept together in the Reare,
+    But as the Boy should haue shot at the Deare,
+    He shot amongst the Nimphes, which when I saw,
+    Closer vp to them I began to draw;
+    And fell to hearken, when they naught suspecting,
+    Because I seem'd them vtterly neglecting,
+    I heard her say, my little _Cupid_ too't,
+    Now Boy or neuer, at the Beuie shoot,                             40
+    Haue at them _Venus_ quoth the Boy anon,
+    I'le pierce the proud'st, had she a heart of stone:
+    With that I cryde out, Treason, Treason, when
+    The Nimphes that were before, turning agen
+    To vnderstand the meaning of this cry,
+    They out of sight were vanish't presently.
+    Thus but for me, the Mother and the Sonne,
+    Here in Elizium, had vs all vndone.
+
+      _Naijs._ Beleeue me, gentle Maide, 'twas very well,
+    But now heare me my beauteous _Florimel_,                         50
+    Great _Mars_ his Lemman being cryde out here,
+    She to _Felicia_ goes, still to be neare
+    Th' Elizian Nimphes, for at vs is her ayme,
+    The fond _Felicians_ are her common game.
+    I vpon pleasure idly wandring thither,
+    Something worth laughter from those fooles to gather,
+    Found her, who thus had lately beene surpriz'd,
+    Fearing the like, had her faire selfe disguis'd
+    Like an old Witch, and gaue out to haue skill
+    In telling Fortunes either good or ill;                           60
+    And that more nearly she with them might close,
+    She cut the Cornes, of dainty Ladies Toes:
+    She gaue them Phisicke, either to coole or mooue them,
+    And powders too to make their sweet Hearts loue them:
+    And her sonne _Cupid_, as her Zany went,
+    Carrying her boxes, whom she often sent
+    To know of her faire Patients how they slept.
+    By which meanes she, and the blinde Archer crept
+    Into their fauours, who would often Toy,
+    And tooke delight in sporting with the Boy;                       70
+    Which many times amongst his waggish tricks,
+    These wanton Wenches in the bosome prickes;
+    That they before which had some franticke fits,
+    Were by his Witchcraft quite out of their wits.
+    Watching this Wisard, my minde gaue me still
+    She some Impostor was, and that this skill
+    Was counterfeit, and had some other end.
+    For which discouery, as I did attend,
+    Her wrinckled vizard being very thin,
+    My piercing eye perceiu'd her cleerer skin                        80
+    Through the thicke Riuels perfectly to shine;
+    When I perceiu'd a beauty so diuine,
+    As that so clouded, I began to pry
+    A little nearer, when I chanc't to spye
+    That pretty Mole vpon her Cheeke, which when
+    I saw; suruaying euery part agen,
+    Vpon her left hand, I perceiu'd the skarre
+    Which she receiued in the Troian warre;
+    Which when I found, I could not chuse but smile.
+    She, who againe had noted me the while,                           90
+    And, by my carriage, found I had descry'd her,
+    Slipt out of sight, and presently doth hide her.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay then my dainty Girles, I make no doubt
+    But I my selfe as strangely found her out
+    As either of you both; in Field and Towne,
+    When like a Pedlar she went vp and downe:
+    For she had got a pretty handsome Packe,
+    Which she had fardled neatly at her backe:
+    And opening it, she had the perfect cry,
+    Come my faire Girles, let's see, what will you buy.              100
+    Here be fine night Maskes, plastred well within,
+    To supple wrinckles, and to smooth the skin:
+    Heer's Christall, Corall, Bugle, Iet, in Beads,
+    Cornelian Bracelets for my dainty Maids:
+    Then Periwigs and Searcloth-Gloues doth show,
+    To make their hands as white as Swan or Snow:
+    Then takes she forth a curious gilded boxe,
+    Which was not opened but by double locks;
+    Takes them aside, and doth a Paper spred,
+    In which was painting both for white and red:                    110
+    And next a piece of Silke, wherein there lyes
+    For the decay'd, false Breasts, false Teeth, false Eyes
+    And all the while shee's opening of her Packe,
+    _Cupid_ with's wings bound close downe to his backe:
+    Playing the Tumbler on a Table gets,
+    And shewes the Ladies many pretty feats.
+    I seeing behinde him that he had such things,
+    For well I knew no boy but he had wings,
+    I view'd his Mothers beauty, which to me
+    Lesse then a Goddesse said, she could not be:                    120
+    With that quoth I to her, this other day,
+    As you doe now, so one that came this way,
+    Shew'd me a neate piece, with the needle wrought,
+    How _Mars_ and _Venus_ were together caught
+    By polt-foot _Vulcan_ in an Iron net;
+    It grieu'd me after that I chanc't to let,
+    It to goe from me: whereat waxing red,
+    Into her Hamper she hung downe her head,
+    As she had stoup't some noueltie to seeke,
+    But 'twas indeed to hide her blushing Cheeke:                    130
+    When she her Trinkets trusseth vp anon,
+    E'r we were 'ware, and instantly was gone.
+
+      _Florimel._ But hearke you Nimphes, amongst our idle prate,
+    Tis current newes through the Elizian State,
+    That _Venus_ and her Sonne were lately seene
+    Here in _Elizium_, whence they oft haue beene
+    Banisht by our Edict, and yet still merry,
+    Were here in publique row'd o'r at the Ferry,
+    Where as 'tis said, the Ferryman and she
+    Had much discourse, she was so full of glee,                     140
+    _Codrus_ much wondring at the blind Boyes Bow.
+
+      _Naijs._ And what it was, that easly you may know,
+    _Codrus_ himselfe comes rowing here at hand.
+
+      _Lelipa._ _Codrus_ Come hither, let your Whirry stand,
+    I hope vpon you, ye will take no state
+    Because two Gods haue grac't your Boat of late;
+    Good Ferry-man I pray thee let vs heare
+    What talke ye had, aboard thee whilst they were.
+
+      _Codrus._ Why thus faire Nimphes.
+    As I a Fare had lately past,                                     150
+    And thought that side to ply,
+    I heard one as it were in haste;
+    A Boate, a Boate, to cry,
+    Which as I was aboute to bring,
+    And came to view my Fraught,
+    Thought I; what more then heauenly thing,
+    Hath fortune hither brought.
+    She seeing mine eyes still on her were,
+    Soone, smilingly, quoth she;
+    Sirra, looke to your Roother there,                              160
+    Why lookst thou thus at me?
+    And nimbly stept into my Boat,
+    With her a little Lad
+    Naked and blind, yet did I note,
+    That Bow and Shafts he had,
+    And two Wings to his Shoulders fixt,
+    Which stood like little Sayles,
+    With farre more various colours mixt,
+    Then be your Peacocks Tayles;
+    I seeing this little dapper Elfe,                                170
+    Such Armes as these to beare,
+    Quoth I thus softly to my selfe,
+    What strange thing haue we here,
+    I neuer saw the like thought I:
+    Tis more then strange to me,
+    To haue a child haue wings to fly,
+    And yet want eyes to see;
+    Sure this is some deuised toy,
+    Or it transform'd hath bin,
+    For such a thing, halfe Bird, halfe Boy,                         180
+    I thinke was neuer seene;
+    And in my Boat I turnd about,
+    And wistly viewd the Lad,
+    And cleerely saw his eyes were out,
+    Though Bow and Shafts he had.
+    As wistly she did me behold,
+    How likst thou him, quoth she,
+    Why well, quoth I; and better should,
+    Had he but eyes to see.
+    How sayst thou honest friend, quoth she,                         190
+    Wilt thou a Prentice take,
+    I thinke in time, though blind he be,
+    A Ferry-man hee'll make;
+    To guide my passage Boat quoth I,
+    His fine hands were not made,
+    He hath beene bred too wantonly
+    To vndertake my trade;
+    Why helpe him to a Master then,
+    Quoth she, such Youths be scant,
+    It cannot be but there be men                                    200
+    That such a Boy do want.
+    Quoth I, when you your best haue done,
+    No better way you'll finde,
+    Then to a Harper binde your Sonne,
+    Since most of them are blind.
+    The louely Mother and the Boy,
+    Laught heartily thereat,
+    As at some nimble iest or toy,
+    To heare my homely Chat.
+    Quoth I, I pray you let me know,                                 210
+    Came he thus first to light,
+    Or by some sicknesse, hurt, or blow,
+    Depryued of his sight;
+    Nay sure, quoth she, he thus was borne,
+    Tis strange borne blind, quoth I,
+    I feare you put this as a scorne
+    On my simplicity;
+    Quoth she, thus blind I did him beare,
+    Quoth I, if't be no lye,
+    Then he 's the first blind man Ile sweare,                       220
+    Ere practisd Archery,
+    A man, quoth she, nay there you misse,
+    He 's still a Boy as now,
+    Nor to be elder then he is,
+    The Gods will him alow;
+    To be no elder then he is,
+    Then sure he is some sprite
+    I straight replide, againe at this,
+    The Goddesse laught out right;
+    It is a mystery to me,                                           230
+    An Archer and yet blinde;
+    Quoth I againe, how can it be,
+    That he his marke should finde;
+    The Gods, quoth she, whose will it was
+    That he should want his sight,
+    That he in something should surpasse,
+    To recompence their spight,
+    Gaue him this gift, though at his Game
+    He still shot in the darke,
+    That he should haue so certaine ayme,                            240
+    As not to misse his marke.
+    By this time we were come a shore,
+    When me my Fare she payd,
+    But not a word she vttered more,
+    Nor had I her bewrayd,
+    Of _Venus_ nor of _Cupid_ I
+    Before did neuer heare,
+    But that Fisher comming by
+    Then, told me who they were.
+
+      _Florimel._ Well: against them then proceed                    250
+    As before we haue decreed,
+    That the Goddesse and her Child,
+    Be for euer hence exild,
+    Which _Lelipa_ you shall proclaime
+    In our wise _Apollo's_ name.
+
+      _Lelipa._ To all th' Elizian Nimphish Nation,
+    Thus we make our Proclamation,
+    Against _Venus_ and her Sonne
+    For the mischeefe they haue done,
+    After the next last of May,                                      260
+    The fixt and peremtory day,
+    If she or _Cupid_ shall be found
+    Vpon our Elizian ground,
+    Our Edict, meere Rogues shall make them,
+    And as such, who ere shall take them,
+    Them shall into prison put,
+    _Cupids_ wings shall then be cut,
+    His Bow broken, and his Arrowes
+    Giuen to Boyes to shoot at Sparrowes,
+    And this Vagabund be sent,                                       270
+    Hauing had due punishment
+    To mount _Cytheron_, which first fed him:
+    Where his wanton Mother bred him,
+    And there out of her protection
+    Dayly to receiue correction;
+    Then her Pasport shall be made,
+    And to _Cyprus_ Isle conuayd,
+    And at _Paphos_ in her Shryne,
+    Where she hath been held diuine,
+    For her offences found contrite,                                 280
+    There to liue an Anchorite.
+
+
+The eight Nimphall
+
+MERTILLA, CLAIA, CLORIS.
+
+          _A Nimph is marryed to a Fay,
+          Great preparations for the Day,
+          All Rites of Nuptials they recite you
+          To the Brydall and inuite you._
+
+      _Mertilla._ But will our _Tita_ wed this Fay?
+
+      _Claia._ Yea, and to morrow is the day.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But why should she bestow her selfe
+    Vpon this dwarfish Fayry Elfe?
+
+      _Claia._ Why by her smalnesse you may finde,
+    That she is of the Fayry kinde,
+    And therefore apt to chuse her make
+    Whence she did her begining take:
+    Besides he 's deft and wondrous Ayrye,
+    And of the noblest of the Fayry,                                  10
+    Chiefe of the Crickets of much fame,
+    In Fayry a most ancient name.
+    But to be briefe, 'tis cleerely done,
+    The pretty wench is woo'd and wonne.
+
+      _Cloris._ If this be so, let vs prouide
+    The Ornaments to fit our Bryde.
+    For they knowing she doth come
+    From vs in _Elizium_,
+    Queene _Mab_ will looke she should be drest
+    In those attyres we thinke our best,                              20
+    Therefore some curious things lets giue her,
+    E'r to her Spouse we her deliuer.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Ile haue a Iewell for her eare,
+    (Which for my sake Ile haue her weare)
+    'T shall be a Dewdrop, and therein
+    Of Cupids I will haue a twinne,
+    Which strugling, with their wings shall break
+    The Bubble, out of which shall leak,
+    So sweet a liquor as shall moue
+    Each thing that smels, to be in loue.                             30
+
+      _Claia._ Beleeue me Gerle, this will be fine,
+    And to this Pendant, then take mine;
+    A Cup in fashion of a Fly,
+    Of the Linxes piercing eye,
+    Wherein there sticks a Sunny Ray
+    Shot in through the cleerest day,
+    Whose brightnesse _Venus_ selfe did moue,
+    Therein to put her drinke of Loue,
+    Which for more strength she did distill,
+    The Limbeck was a _Phoenix_ quill,                                40
+    At this Cups delicious brinke,
+    A Fly approching but to drinke,
+    Like Amber or some precious Gumme
+    It transparant doth become.
+
+      _Cloris._ For Iewels for her eares she's sped,
+    But for a dressing for her head
+    I thinke for her I haue a Tyer,
+    That all Fayryes shall admyre,
+    The yellowes in the full-blowne Rose,
+    Which in the top it doth inclose                                  50
+    Like drops of gold Oare shall be hung;
+    Vpon her Tresses, and among
+    Those scattered seeds (the eye to please)
+    The wings of the Cantharides:
+    With some o' th' Raine-bow that doth raile
+    Those Moons in, in the Peacocks taile:
+    Whose dainty colours being mixt
+    With th' other beauties, and so fixt,
+    Her louely Tresses shall appeare,
+    As though vpon a flame they were.                                 60
+    And to be sure she shall be gay,
+    We'll take those feathers from the Iay;
+    About her eyes in Circlets set,
+    To be our _Tita's_ Coronet.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Then dainty Girles I make no doubt,
+    But we shall neatly send her out:
+    But let's amongst our selues agree,
+    Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.
+
+      _Claia._ Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues,
+    Most curiously laid on in Threaues:                               70
+    And all embroydery to supply,
+    Powthred with flowers of Rosemary:
+    A trayle about the skirt shall runne,
+    The Silkewormes finest, newly spunne;
+    And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew
+    With th' smallest of the Spinners Clue:
+    And hauing done their worke, againe
+    These to the Church shall beare her Traine:
+    Which for our _Tita_ we will make
+    Of the cast slough of a Snake,                                    80
+    Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,
+    The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.
+
+      _Cloris._ And being led to meet her mate,
+    To make sure that she want no state,
+    Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred,
+    With feathers from the Pheasants head:
+    Mix'd with the plume of (so high price,)
+    The precious bird of Paradice.
+    Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply
+    Into a curious Canopy.                                            90
+    Borne o're her head (by our enquiry)
+    By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But all this while we haue forgot
+    Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?
+
+      _Claia._ We had, for those I'le fit her now,
+    They shall be of the Lady-Cow:
+    The dainty shell vpon her backe
+    Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke;
+    Which as she holds a stately pace,
+    Her Leg will wonderfully grace.                                  100
+
+      _Cloris._ But then for musicke of the best,
+    This must be thought on for the Feast.
+
+      _Mertilla._ The Nightingale of birds most choyce,
+    To doe her best shall straine her voyce;
+    And to this bird to make a Set,
+    The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;
+    The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,
+    That make a Quier of euery Bush.
+    But for still musicke, we will keepe
+    The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe                          110
+    Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone
+    The rest into their chambers gone.
+    And like those vpon Ropes that walke
+    On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,
+    The tripping Fayry tricks shall play
+    The euening of the wedding day.
+
+      _Claia._ But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,
+    That hath not beene talk'd of yet.
+
+      _Cloris._ Of leaues of Roses white and red,
+    Shall be the Couering of her bed:                                120
+    The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,
+    Shall be the flower Imperiall,
+    And for the Fringe, it all along
+    With azure Harebels shall be hung:
+    Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,
+    With downe stuft of the Butterflee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,
+    Now for our Prothalamion
+    Or Marriage song of all the rest,
+    A thing that much must grace our feast.                          130
+    Let vs practise then to sing it,
+    Ere we before th' assembly bring it:
+    We in Dialogues must doe it,
+    The my dainty Girles set to it.
+
+      Claia. _This day must _Tita_ marryed be,
+    Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see._
+
+      Mertilla. _But is it certaine that ye say,
+    Will she wed the Noble Faye?_
+
+      Cloris. _Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes,
+    Such as the Gods at Banquets vse:                                140
+    Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses,
+    And make proud the posts with posies:
+    Shute your sweets into the ayre,
+    Charge the morning to be fayre._
+
+      Claia.    } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Mertilla. } To be married to a Faye._
+
+      Claia. _By whom then shall our Bride be led
+    To the Temple to be wed._
+
+      Mertilla. _Onely by your selfe and I,
+    Who that roomth should else supply?_                             150
+
+      Cloris. _Come bright Girles, come altogether,
+    And bring all your offrings hither,
+    Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye,
+    All your goodly graces Leuye,
+    Come in Maiestie and state
+    Our Brydall here to celebrate._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._
+
+      Claia. _Whose lot wilt be the way to strow
+    On which to Church our Bride must goe?_                          160
+
+      Mertilla. _That I think as fit'st of all,
+    To liuely _Lelipa_ will fall._
+
+      Cloris. _Summon all the sweets that are,
+    To this nuptiall to repayre;
+    Till with their throngs themselues they smother,
+    Strongly styfling one another;
+    And at last they all consume,
+    And vanish in one rich perfume._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._                          170
+
+      Mertilla. _By whom must _Tita_ married be,
+    'Tis fit we all to that should see?_
+
+      Claia. _The Priest he purposely doth come,
+    Th' Arch Flamyne of Elizium._
+
+      Cloris. _With Tapers let the Temples shine,
+    Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine:
+    Load the Altars till there rise
+    Clouds from the burnt sacrifice;
+    With your Sensors fling aloofe
+    Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe._                        180
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Mertilla. _But comming backe when she is wed,
+    Who breakes the Cake aboue her head._
+
+      Claia. _That shall _Mertilla_, for shee's tallest,
+    And our _Tita_ is the smallest._
+
+      Cloris. _Violins, strike vp aloud,
+    Ply the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd,
+    Let the nimble hand belabour
+    The whistling Pipe, and drumbling Taber:                         190
+    To the full the Bagpipe racke,
+    Till the swelling leather cracke._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when to dyne she takes her seate
+    What shall be our _Tita's_ meate?_
+
+      Mertilla. _The Gods this Feast, as to begin,
+    Haue sent of their Ambrosia in._
+
+      Cloris. _Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry,
+    The Respas, and Elizian Cherry:                                  200
+    The virgin honey from the flowers
+    In Hibla, wrought in _Flora's_ bowers:
+    Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle
+    Carouse but in dissolued Pearle._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when night comes, and she must goe
+    To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?_
+
+      Mertilla. _In the Posset must be brought,
+    And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught._                      210
+
+      Cloris. _In Maskes, in Dances, and delight,
+    And reare Banquets spend the night:
+    Then about the Roome we ramble,
+    Scatter Nuts, and for them scramble:
+    Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble,
+    Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+
+The ninth Nimphall
+
+MVSES and NIMPHS.
+
+                    _The Muses spend their lofty layes,
+                    Vpon _Apollo_ and his prayse;
+                    The Nimphs with Gems his Alter build,
+                    This Nimphall is with _Phoebus_ fild._
+
+              A Temple of exceeding state,
+              The Nimphes and Muses rearing,
+              Which they to _Phoebus_ dedicate,
+              Elizium euer cheering:
+              These Muses, and those Nimphes contend
+              This Phane to _Phoebus_ offring,
+              Which side the other should transcend,
+              These praise, those prizes proffering,
+              And at this long appointed day,
+              Each one their largesse bringing,                       10
+              Those nine faire Sisters led the way
+              Thus to _Apollo_ singing.
+
+                The Muses. _Thou youthfull God that guid'st the howres,
+              The Muses thus implore thee,
+              By all those Names, due to thy powers,
+              By which we still adore thee._
+              Sol_, _Tytan_, _Delius_, _Cynthius_, styles
+              Much reuerence that have wonne thee,
+              Deriu'd from Mountaines as from Iles
+              Where worship first was done thee.                      20
+              Rich _Delos_ brought thee forth diuine,
+              Thy Mother thither driven,
+              At _Delphos_ thy most sacred shrine,
+              Thy Oracles were giuen.
+              In thy swift course from East to West,
+              They minutes misse to finde thee,
+              That bear'st the morning on thy breast,
+              And leau'st the night behinde thee.
+              Vp to Olimpus top so steepe,
+              Thy startling Coursers currying;                        30
+              Thence downe to Neptunes vasty deepe,
+              Thy flaming Charriot hurrying._
+              Eos_, _Ethon_, _Phlegon_, _Pirois_, proud,
+The horses    Their lightning Maynes aduancing:
+drawing the   Breathing forth fire on euery cloud
+Chariot of    Vpon their Iourney prancing.
+the Sunne.    Whose sparkling hoofes, with gold for speed
+              Are shod, to scape all dangers,
+              Where they upon Ambrosia feed,
+              In their celestiall Mangers.                            40
+The           Bright _Colatina_, that of hils
+mountaines    Is Goddesse, and hath keeping
+first         Her Nimphes, the cleere _Oreades_ wils
+saluting the  T'attend thee from thy sleeping.
+Sunne at his  Great _*Demogorgon_ feeles thy might,
+rising.       His Mynes about him heating:
+* Supposed    Who through his bosome dart'st thy light,
+the God of    Within the Center sweating.
+earth.        If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,
+              Thou _Minos_ mou'st to heare thee:                      50
+One of the    The Rockes feele in themselues a fire,
+Iudges of     And rise vp to come neere thee.
+hell.         'Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise
+              Hearbs by their natures calling:
+              Of which some opening at thy Rise,
+              And closing at thy falling.
+              Fayre _Hyacinth_ thy most lou'd Lad,
+              That with the sledge thou sluest;
+              Hath in a flower the life he had,
+              Whose root thou still renewest,                         60
+              Thy _Daphne_ thy beloued Tree,
+              That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,
+              And thy deare _Clitia_ yet we see,
+A Nimph lou'd Not time from thee can sunder;
+of _Apollo_,  From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew
+and by him    (Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)
+changed into  Which that fell Serpent _Python_ slew,
+a flower.     Renowning thee for euer.
+              The _Actian_ and the _Pythian_ Games
+Playes or     Deuised were to praise thee,                            70
+Games in      With all th' _Apolinary_ names
+honor of      That th' Ancients thought could raise thee.
+_Apollo_.     A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,
+              To thee we'll haue erected,
+              Which thou the God of Poesie
+              Must care to haue protected:
+              With thy loud _Cinthus_ that shall share,
+              With all his shady Bowers,
+              Nor _Licia's Cragus_ shall compare
+              With this, for thee, of ours._                          80
+
+              Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue
+              Thrust in amongst them thronging,
+              Desiring they might haue the due
+              That was to them belonging.
+              Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,
+              Are in his glories graced,
+              But it is we must build the Shryne
+              Wherein they must be placed;
+              Which of those precious Gemmes we'll make
+              That Nature can affoord vs,                             90
+              Which from that plenty we will take,
+              Wherewith we here have stor'd vs:
+              O glorious _Phoebus_ most diuine,
+              Thine Altars then we hallow.
+              And with those stones we build a Shryne
+              To thee our wise _Apollo_.
+
+                The Nimphes. _No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,
+              (Their numbers let vs muster)
+              But hath from thy most powerfull beames
+              The Vertue and the Lustre;                             100
+              The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
+              The first is to be placed,
+              That glory is of Diadems,
+              Them gracing, by them graced:
+              In whom thy power the most is seene,
+              The raging fire refelling:
+              The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
+              For beauty most excelling,
+              Resisting poyson often prou'd
+              By those about that beare it.                          110
+              The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou'd,
+              That doth reuiue the spirit,
+              Whose kinde to large extensure growne
+              The colour so enflamed,
+              Is that admired mighty stone
+              The Carbunckle that's named,
+              Which from it such a flaming light
+              And radiency eiecteth,
+              That in the very dark'st of night
+              The eye to it directeth.                               120
+              The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,
+              Of which who hath the keeping,
+              No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,
+              And much prouoketh sleeping:
+              The Chrisolite, that doth resist
+              Thirst, proued, neuer failing,
+              The purple colored Amatist,
+              'Gainst strength of wine prevailing;
+              The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,
+              Most soueraine ouer passion:                           130
+              The Sardonix approu'd by vs
+              To master Incantation.
+              Then that celestiall colored stone
+              The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,
+              Which worne, there wearinesse is none,
+              And cureth melancholly:
+              The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew
+              With golden vaines is graced;
+              The Iaspis, of so various hew,
+              Amongst our other placed;                              140
+              The Onix from the Ancients brought,
+              Of wondrous Estimation,
+              Shall in amongst the rest be wrought
+              Our sacred Shryne to fashion;
+              The Topas, we'll stick here and there,
+              And sea-greene colored Berill,
+              And Turkesse, which who haps to beare
+              Is often kept from perill,
+              To Selenite, of _Cynthia's_ light,
+              So nam'd, with her still ranging,                      150
+              Which as she wanes or waxeth bright
+              Its colours so are changing.
+              With Opalls, more then any one,
+              We'll deck thine Altar fuller,
+              For that of euery precious stone,
+              It doth retaine some colour;
+              With bunches of Pearle Paragon
+              Thine Altars vnderpropping,
+              Whose base is the Cornelian,
+              Strong bleeding often stopping:                        160
+              With th' Agot, very oft that is
+              Cut strangely in the Quarry,
+              As Nature ment to show in this,
+              How she her selfe can varry:
+              With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas
+              Elizium well might store vs:
+              But we content our selues with these
+              That readiest lye before vs:
+              And thus O _Phoebus_ most diuine
+              Thine Altars still we hallow,                          170
+              And to thy Godhead reare this Shryne
+              Our onely wise _Apollo_._
+
+
+The tenth Nimphall
+
+NAIIS, CLAIA, CORBILVS, SATYRE.
+
+            _A Satyre on Elizium lights,
+            Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,
+            Yet when they heare his iust complaint,
+            They make him an Elizian Saint._
+
+                    _Corbilus._
+
+    What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know
+    What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?
+    What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?
+    What might it be from which ye flye so fast?
+    I see your faces full of pallid feare,
+    As though some perill followed on your flight;
+    Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare
+    Into what danger ye haue lately light.
+
+      _Naijs._ Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,
+    As when kinde, loued _Corbilus_ we saw,                           10
+    When our much haste vs so much weakned had,
+    That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,
+    In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,
+    So fell a monster lying there we found,
+    As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,
+    Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.
+    Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem'd to vs in show,
+    His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,
+    But he's a very perfect Goat below,
+    His crooked Cambrils arm'd with hoofe and hayre.                  20
+
+      _Claia._ Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
+    Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
+    And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,
+    Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
+    Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
+    Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
+    Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.
+
+      _Claia._ How _Corbilus_; a Satyre doe you say?
+    How should he ouer high _Parnassus_ hit?                          30
+    Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,
+    But onely those the Muses will permit.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
+    The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
+    Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
+    By beastly mens abhominable way;
+    Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
+    By this base time, or be so much distrest,
+    That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
+    To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest.                  40
+
+      _Naijs._ Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
+    At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
+    Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
+    As at the first, when I and _Claia_ saw him.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
+    Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
+    His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
+    How, and from whence, he to _Elizium_ came.
+    Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?
+    What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store?                50
+    When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde
+    Set foot on the Elizian earth before?
+
+      _Satyre._ O neuer aske, how I came to this place,
+    What cannot strong necessity finde out?
+    Rather bemoane my miserable case,
+    Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:
+    With wild _Silvanus_ and his woody crue,
+    In Forrests I, at liberty and free,
+    Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,
+    Nor any rightly can conceiue but we.                              60
+    This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,
+    Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,
+    That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.
+    Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,
+    That faire _Felicia_ which was but of late,
+    Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,
+    Stands now in that most lamentable state,
+    That not a Siluan will inhabit there;
+    Where in the soft and most delicious shade,
+    In heat of Summer we were wont to play,                           70
+    When the long day too short for vs we made,
+    The slyding houres so slyly stole away;
+    By _Cynthia's_ light, and on the pleasant Lawne,
+    The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,
+    Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,
+    Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.
+    The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke
+    The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,
+    Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,
+    Till at the last, they lowder were then they.                     80
+    The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,
+    Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;
+    Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,
+    The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;
+    Once faire _Felicia_, but now quite defac'd,
+    Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,
+    With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd
+    With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:
+    But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,
+    In humane Reason it could neuer be,                               90
+    But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,
+    Those plagues their next posterity shall see.
+    The little Infant on the mothers Lap
+    For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,
+    That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,
+    The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;
+    The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,
+    And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,
+    Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,
+    The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast.                 100
+    Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,
+    And not a Forrest in _Felicia_ found,
+    Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,
+    To dig them caues for houses in the ground:
+    The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,
+    Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,
+    Begging from thence that _Iove_ would dart his fire
+    Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;
+    This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide
+    The name of their braue Ancestors to heare,                      110
+    By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,
+    So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,
+    Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,
+    Of those braue Muses that their Country song,
+    But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue
+    The right and honour that to them belong;
+    This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure
+    That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;
+    The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre
+    Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred.                     120
+    I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come
+    Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:
+    And thus am light into Elizium,
+    To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.
+
+      _Naijs._ Poore silly creature, come along with vs,
+    Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:
+    Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,
+    This place content in all abundance yeelds.
+    We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,
+    Of _Ioues_ deare Daughters, where in shades they sit,            130
+    Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,
+    Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:
+
+      _Claia._ Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres
+    His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:
+    Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers
+    With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,
+    Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:
+    Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,
+    And some like beasts in markets sold and bought.                 140
+    Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,
+    That haue no vnderstanding of their state:
+    For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,
+    That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.
+    And to Elizium be thou welcome then,
+    Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,
+    By that vile nation captiued againe,
+    That many a glorious age their captiues were.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND'
+
+[From the Edition of 1593]
+
+
+    The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle,
+    Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle.
+
+    Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide,
+    Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride.
+
+    Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence,
+    Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence.
+
+    Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure,
+    Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure.
+
+    Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward,
+    Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde.                     10
+
+    Yea she alone, next that eternall he,
+    The expresse Image of eternitie.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue)
+    The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse,
+    If this be wrought me my light to bereaue,
+    By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips
+    Or vgly _Saturne_ from his combust sent,
+    This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.
+
+    Oh cleerest day-starre, honored of mine eyes,
+    Yet sdaynst mine eyes should gaze vpon thy light,
+    Bright morning sunne, who with thy sweet arise,
+    Expell'st the clouds of my harts lowring night,                   10
+    Goddes reiecting sweetest sacrifice,
+    Of mine eyes teares ay offered to thine eyes.
+
+    May purest heauens scorne my soules pure desires?
+    Or holy shrines hate Pilgrims orizons?
+    May sacred temples gaynsay sacred prayers?
+    Or Saints refuse the poores deuotions?
+    Then Orphane thoughts with sorrow be you waind,
+    When loues Religion shalbe thus prophayn'd.
+
+    Yet needes the earth must droope with visage sad,
+    When siluer dewes been turn'd to bitter stormes,                  20
+    The Cheerful _Welkin_, once in sables clad,
+    Her frownes foretell poore humaine creatures harmes.
+    And yet for all to make amends for this,
+    The clouds sheed teares, and weepen at my misse.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iij_
+
+    O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,
+    _Beta_ alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,
+            The Queene of Virgins onely she:
+            And thou the Queene of floods shalt be:
+    Let all thy Nymphes be ioyfull then to see this happy day,
+    Thy _Beta_ now alone shalbe the subiect of my laye.
+
+    With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest virelayes:
+    Come louely shepheards sit we down and chant our _Betas_ prayse:
+            And let vs sing so rare a verse,
+            Our _Betas_ prayses to rehearse,                          10
+    That little Birds shall silent be, to heare poore shepheards sing,
+    And riuers backward bend their course, and flow vnto the spring.
+
+    Range all thy swannes faire Thames together on a rancke,
+    And place them duely one by one, vpon thy stately banck,
+            Then set together all agood,
+            Recording to the siluer flood,
+    And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe you with her lay,
+    The Osel and the Throstlecocke, chiefe musicke of our maye.
+
+    O! see what troups of Nimphs been sporting on the strands,
+    And they been blessed Nimphs of peace, with Oliues in their hands.  20
+            How meryly the Muses sing,
+            That all the flowry Medowes ring,
+    And _Beta_ sits vpon the banck, in purple and in pall,
+    And she the Queene of Muses is, and weares the Corinall.
+
+    Trim vp her Golden tresses with _Apollos_ sacred tree,
+    O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honor thee,
+            The Blessed Angels haue prepar'd,
+            A glorious Crowne for thy reward,
+    Not such a golden Crowne as haughty _C�sar_ weares,
+    But such a glittering starry Crowne as _Ariadne_ beares.          30
+
+    Make her a goodly Chapilet of azur'd Colombine,
+    And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglentine:
+            Bedeck our _Beta_ all with Lillies,
+            And the dayntie Daffadillies,
+    With Roses damask, white, and red, and fairest flower delice,
+    With Cowslips of Jerusalem, and cloues of Paradice.
+
+    O thou fayre torch of heauen, the days most dearest light,
+    And thou bright shyning _Cinthya_, the glory of the night:
+            You starres the eyes of heauen,
+            And thou the glyding leuen,                               40
+    And thou O gorgeous _Iris_ with all strange Colours dyd,
+    When she streams foorth her rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
+
+    See how the day stands still, admiring of her face,
+    And time loe stretcheth foorth her armes, thy _Beta_ to imbrace,
+            The Syrens sing sweete layes,
+            The Trytons sound her prayse,
+    Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean sea,
+    And let thy billowes there proclaime thy _Betas_ holy-day.
+
+    And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree,
+    With whose sweete shadow, al thy bancks with peace preserued be,  50
+            Lawrell for Poets and Conquerours,
+            And mirtle for Loues Paramours:
+    That fame may be thy fruit, the boughes preseru'd by peace,
+    And let the mournful Cipres die, now stormes and tempest cease.
+
+    Wee'l straw the shore with pearle where _Beta_ walks alone,
+    And we wil paue her princely Bower with richest Indian stone,
+            Perfume the ayre and make it sweete,
+            For such a Goddesse it is meete,
+    For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light,
+    No maruaile then although they so doe dazell humaine sight.       60
+
+    Sound out your trumpets then, from _London's_ stately towres,
+    To beate the stormie windes a back and calme the raging showres,
+            Set too the Cornet and the flute,
+            The Orpharyon and the Lute,
+    And tune the Taber and the Pipe, to the sweet violons,
+    And moue the thunder in the ayre, with lowdest Clarions.
+
+    _Beta_ long may thine Altars smoke, with yeerely sacrifice,
+    And long thy sacred Temples may their Saboths solemnize,
+            Thy shepheards watch by day and night,
+            Thy Mayds attend the holy light,                          70
+    And thy large empyre stretch her armes from east vnto the west,
+    And thou vnder thy feet mayst tread, that foule seuen-headed beast.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iv_
+
+    _Melpomine_ put on thy mourning Gaberdine,
+    And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,
+    And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,
+            with weeping verse,
+            attend his hearse,
+    Whose blessed soule the heauens doe now enshrine.
+
+    Come Nymphs and with your Rebecks ring his knell,
+    Warble forth your wamenting harmony,
+    And at his drery fatall obsequie,
+            with Cypres bowes,                                        10
+            maske your fayre Browes,
+    And beat your breasts to chyme his burying peale.
+
+    Thy birth-day was to all our ioye, the euen,
+    And on thy death this dolefull song we sing,
+    Sweet Child of _Pan_, and the _Castalian_ spring,
+            vnto our endless mone,
+            from vs why art thou gone,
+    To fill vp that sweete Angels quier in heauen.
+
+    O whylome thou thy lasses dearest loue,
+    When with greene Lawrell she hath crowned thee,                   20
+    Immortal mirror of all Poesie:
+            the Muses treasure,
+            the Graces pleasure,
+    Reigning with Angels now in heauen aboue.
+
+    Our mirth is now depriu'd of all her glory,
+    Our Taburins in dolefull dumps are drownd.
+    Our viols want their sweet and pleasing sound,
+            our melodie is mar'd
+            and we of ioyes debard,
+    O wicked world so mutable and transitory.                         30
+
+    O dismall day, bereauer of delight,
+    O stormy winter, sourse of all our sorrow,
+    O most vntimely and eclipsed morrow,
+            to rob us quite,
+            of all delight,
+    Darkening that starre which euer shone so bright.
+
+    Oh _Elphin_, _Elphin_, Though thou hence be gone,
+    In spight of death yet shalt thou liue for aye,
+    Thy Poesie is garlanded with Baye:
+            and still shalt blaze                                     40
+            thy lasting prayse:
+    Whose losse poore shepherds euer shall bemone.
+
+    Come Girles, and with Carnations decke his graue,
+    With damaske Roses and the hyacynt:
+    Come with sweete Williams, Marioram and Mynt,
+            with precious Balmes,
+            with hymnes and psalmes,
+    This funerall deserues no lesse at all to haue.
+
+    But see where _Elphin_ sits in fayre Elizia,
+    Feeding his flocke on yonder heauenly playne,                     50
+    Come and behold, you louely shepheards swayne,
+            piping his fill
+            on yonder hill,
+    Tasting sweete _Nectar_, and _Ambrosia_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+              _Borrill._
+
+    Oh spightfull wayward wretched loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauens and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    Thoughts griefe, hearts woe,
+    Hopes paine, bodies languish,
+    Enuies rage, sleepes foe,
+    Fancies fraud, soules anguish,
+    Desires dread, mindes madnes,
+    Secrets bewrayer, natures error,                                  10
+    Sights deceit, sullens sadnes,
+    Speeches expence, Cupids terror,
+    Malcontents melancholly,
+    Liues slaughter, deaths nurse,
+    Cares slaue, dotard's folly,
+    Fortunes bayte, world's curse,
+    Lookes theft, eyes blindnes,
+    Selfes will, tongues treason,
+    Paynes pleasure, wrongs kindnes,
+    Furies frensie, follies reason:                                   20
+    With cursing thee as I began,
+    Neither God, neither man,
+    Neither Fayrie, neither Feend.
+
+              _Batte._
+
+    Loue is the heauens fayre aspect,
+      loue is the glorie of the earth,
+    Loue only doth our liues direct,
+      loue is our guyder from our birth,
+
+    Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie,
+      loue taught mine eyes the way to loue,
+    Loue raysed my conceit so hie,                                    30
+      loue framd my hand his arte to proue.
+
+    Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill,
+      loue gaue me first to Poesie:
+    Loue is the Soueraigne of my will,
+      loue bound me first to loyalty.
+
+    Loue was the first that fram'd my speech,
+      loue was the first that gaue me grace:
+    Loue is my life and fortunes leech,
+      loue made the vertuous giue me place.
+
+    Loue is the end of my desire,                                     40
+      loue is the loadstarre of my loue,
+    Loue makes my selfe, my selfe admire,
+      loue seated my delights aboue.
+
+    Loue placed honor in my brest,
+      loue made me learnings fauoret,
+    Loue made me liked of the best,
+      loue first my minde on virtue set.
+
+    Loue is my life, life is my loue,
+      loue is my whole felicity,
+    Loue is my sweete, sweete is my loue,                             50
+      I am in loue, and loue in mee.
+
+
+_From Eclogue viij_
+
+    Farre in the countrey of _Arden_
+    There wond a knight hight _Cassemen_,
+      as bolde as _Isenbras_:
+    Fell was he and eger bent,
+    In battell and in Tournament,
+      as was the good sir _Topas_.
+    He had as antique stories tell,
+    A daughter cleaped _Dowsabell_,
+      a mayden fayre and free:
+    And for she was her fathers heire,                                10
+    Full well she was ycond the leyre,
+      of mickle curtesie.
+    The silke wel couth she twist and twine,
+    And make the fine Marchpine,
+      and with the needle werke,
+    And she couth helpe the priest to say
+    His Mattens on a holyday,
+      and sing a Psalme in Kirke.
+    She ware a frocke of frolicke greene,
+    Might well beseeme a mayden Queene,                               20
+      which seemly was to see.
+    A hood to that so neat and fine,
+    In colour like the colombine,
+      ywrought full featously.
+    Her feature all as fresh aboue,
+    As is the grasse that grows by Doue,
+      as lyth as lasse of Kent:
+    Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll,
+    As white as snow on peakish hull,
+      or Swanne that swims in Trent.                                  30
+    This mayden in a morne betime,
+    Went forth when May was in her prime,
+      to get sweet Cetywall,
+    The hony-suckle, the Harlocke,
+    The Lilly and the Lady-smocke,
+      to decke her summer hall.
+    Thus as she wandred here and there,
+    Ypicking of the bloomed Breere,
+      she chanced to espie
+    A shepheard sitting on a bancke,                                  40
+    Like _Chanteclere_ he crowed crancke,
+      and pip'd with merrie glee:
+    He leard his sheepe as he him list,
+    When he would whistle in his fist,
+      to feede about him round:
+    Whilst he full many a caroll sung,
+    Vntill the fields and medowes rung,
+      and that the woods did sound:
+    In fauour this same shepheards swayne,
+    Was like the bedlam _Tamburlayne_,                                50
+      which helde prowd Kings in awe:
+    But meeke he was as Lamb mought be,
+    Ylike that gentle _Abel_ he,
+      whom his lewd brother slaw.
+    This shepheard ware a sheepe gray cloke,
+    Which was of the finest loke,
+      that could be cut with sheere,
+    His mittens were of Bauzens skinne,
+    His cockers were of Cordiwin
+      his hood of Meniueere.                                          60
+    His aule and lingell in a thong,
+    His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong,
+      his breech of Coyntrie blew:
+    Full crispe and curled were his lockes,
+    His browes as white as _Albion_ rockes,
+      so like a louer true.
+    And pyping still he spent the day,
+    So mery as the Popingay:
+      which liked _Dowsabell_,
+    That would she ought or would she nought,                         70
+    This lad would neuer from her thought:
+      she in loue-longing fell,
+    At length she tucked vp her frocke,
+    White as the Lilly was her smocke,
+      she drew the shepheard nie,
+    But then the shepheard pyp'd a good,
+    That all his sheepe forsooke their foode,
+      to heare his melodie.
+    Thy sheepe quoth she cannot be leane,
+    That haue a iolly shepheards swayne,                              80
+      the which can pipe so well.
+    Yea but (sayth he) their shepheard may,
+    Jf pyping thus he pine away,
+      in loue of _Dowsabell_.
+    Of loue fond boy take thou no keepe,
+    Quoth she, looke well vnto thy sheepe,
+      lest they should hap to stray.
+    Quoth he, so had I done full well,
+    Had I not seene fayre _Dowsabell_,
+      come forth to gather Maye.                                      90
+    With that she gan to vaile her head,
+    Her cheekes were like the Roses red,
+      but not a word she sayd.
+    With that the shepheard gan to frowne,
+    He threw his pretie pypes adowne,
+      and on the ground him layd.
+    Sayth she, I may not stay till night,
+    And leaue my summer hall vndight,
+      and all for long of thee.
+    My Coate sayth he, nor yet my foulde,                            100
+    Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould,
+      except thou fauour me.
+    Sayth she yet leuer I were dead,
+    Then I should lose my maydenhead,
+      and all for loue of men:
+    Sayth he yet are you too vnkind,
+    If in your heart you cannot finde,
+      to loue vs now and then:
+    And J to thee will be as kinde,
+    As _Colin_ was to _Rosalinde_,                                   110
+      of curtesie the flower;
+    Then will I be as true quoth she,
+    As euer mayden yet might be,
+      vnto her Paramour:
+    With that she bent her snowe-white knee,
+    Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,
+      and him she sweetely kist.
+    With that the shepheard whoop'd for ioy,
+    Quoth he, ther's neuer shepheards boy,
+      that euer was so blist.                                        120
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1605]
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Then this great Vniuerse no lesse,
+    Can serue her prayses to expresse:
+    Betwixt her eies the poles of Loue,
+    The host of heauenly beautyes moue,
+    Depainted in their proper stories,
+    As well the fixd as wandring glories,
+    Which from their proper orbes not goe,
+    Whether they gyre swift or slowe:
+    Where from their lips, when she doth speake,
+    The musick of those sphears do breake,                            10
+    Which their harmonious motion breedeth:
+    From whose cheerfull breath proceedeth:
+    That balmy sweetnes that giues birth
+    To euery ofspring of the earth.
+    Her shape and cariage of which frame
+    In forme how well shee beares the same,
+    Is that proportion heauens best treasure,
+    Whereby it doth all poyze and measure,
+    So that alone her happy sight
+    Conteynes perfection and delight.                                 20
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Vppon a bank with roses set about,
+    Where pretty turtles ioyning bil to bill,
+    And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out
+    Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill:
+    There little loue sore wounded lyes,
+    His bowe and arowes broken,
+    Bedewd with teares from Venus eyes
+    Oh greeuous to be spoken.
+
+    Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye
+    Where sticks the arrowe that poore hart did kill,                 10
+    With whose sharp pile request him ere he die,
+    About the same to write his latest will,
+    And bid him send it backe to mee,
+    At instant of his dying,
+    That cruell cruell shee may see
+    My faith and her denying.
+
+    His chappell be a mournefull Cypresse Shade,
+    And for a chauntry Philomels sweet lay,
+    Where prayers shall continually be made
+    By pilgrim louers passing by that way.                            20
+    With Nymphes and shepheards yearly moane
+    His timeles death beweeping,
+    In telling that my hart alone
+    Hath his last will in keeping.
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1606]
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+    Now fye vpon thee wayward loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauen and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    What art thou but th' extreamst madnesse,
+    Natures first and only error
+    That consum'st our daies in sadnesse,
+    By the minds Continuall terror:
+    Walking in Cymerian blindnesse,
+    In thy courses voy'd of reason.                                   10
+    Sharp reproofe thy only kindnesse,
+    In thy trust the highest treason?
+    Both the Nymph and ruder swaine,
+    Vexing with continuall anguish,
+    Which dost make the ould complaine
+    And the young to pyne and languishe,
+    Who thee keepes his care doth nurse,
+    That seducest all to folly,
+    Blessing, bitterly doest curse,
+    Tending to destruction wholly:                                    20
+    Thus of thee as I began,
+    So againe I make an end,
+    Neither god neither man,
+    Neither faiery, neither feend.
+
+              BATTE.
+
+    What is Loue but the desire
+    Of the thing that fancy pleaseth?
+    A holy and resistlesse fier,
+    Weake and strong alike that ceaseth,
+    Which not heauen hath power to let,
+    Nor wise nature cannot smother,                                   30
+    Whereby _Phoebus_ doth begette
+    On the vniuersall mother.
+    That the euerlasting Chaine,
+    Which together al things tied,
+    And vnmooued them retayne
+    And by which they shall abide:
+    That concent we cleerely find,
+    All things doth together drawe,
+    And so strong in euery kinde,
+    Subiects them to natures law.                                     40
+    Whose hie virtue number teaches
+    In which euery thing dooth mooue,
+    From the lowest depth that reaches
+    To the height of heauen aboue:
+    Harmony that wisely found,
+    When the cunning hand doth strike
+    Whereas euery amorous sound,
+    Sweetly marryes with his like.
+    The tender cattell scarcely take
+    From their damm's the feelds to proue,                            50
+    But ech seeketh out a make,
+    Nothing liues that doth not loue:
+    Not soe much as but the plant
+    As nature euery thing doth payre,
+    By it if the male it want
+    Doth dislike and will not beare:
+    Nothing then is like to loue
+    In the which all creatures be.
+    From it nere let me remooue
+    Nor let it remooue from me.                                       60
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+                        BATTE.
+
+              _Gorbo_, as thou cam'st this waye
+              By yonder little hill,
+              Or as thou through the fields didst straye
+              Sawst thou my _Daffadill_?
+
+              Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene
+              The colour maides delight
+              And neuer hath her beauty seen
+              But through a vale of white.
+
+              Then Roses richer to behold
+              That trim vp louers bowers,                             10
+              The Pansy and the Marigould
+              Tho _Phoebus_ Paramours.
+
+    _Gorbo._  Thou well describ'st the Daffadill
+              It is not full an hower
+              Since by the spring neare yonder hill
+              I saw that louely flower.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
+              Nor news of her didst bring,
+              And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
+              Then that by yonder spring.                             20
+
+    _Gorbo._  I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
+              In yonder field of Lillies,
+              Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
+              A wreathe of Daffadillies.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
+              My flower thou didst not see,
+              For know my pretie _Daffadill_
+              Is worne of none but me.
+
+              To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
+              No Lilly is so bould,                                   30
+              Except to shade her from the heate,
+              Or keepe her from the colde:
+
+    _Gorbo._  Through yonder vale as I did passe,
+              Descending from the hill,
+              I met a smerking bony lasse,
+              They call her _Daffadill_:
+
+              Whose presence as along she went,
+              The prety flowers did greet,
+              As though their heads they downward bent,
+              With homage to her feete.                               40
+
+              And all the shepheards that were nie,
+              From toppe of euery hill,
+              Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
+              There goes sweet _Daffadill_.
+
+    _Gorbo._  I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
+              Thou all my flockes dost fill,
+              That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
+              Let vs to _Daffadill_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Motto._  Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
+              Who's yonder in the vally set?
+    _Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
+              The Lilly, Rose, or violet.
+
+    _Motto._  Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
+              Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
+    _Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
+              With gazing on her heauenly eies:
+
+    _Motto._  Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
+              Which somtyme was their chiefe delight,                 10
+    _Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
+              That liue in presence of her sight:
+
+    _Motto._  How com those flowers to florish still,
+              Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
+    _Perkin._ She hath robd nature of her skill,
+              And comforts all things with her breath:
+
+    _Motto._  Why slide these brookes so slow away,
+              As swift as the wild Roe that were,
+    _Perkin._ O muse not shepheard that they stay,
+              When they her heauenly voice do heare.                  20
+
+    _Motto._  From whence com all these goodly swayns
+              And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
+    _Perkin._ From gathering garlands on the playnes,
+              To crowne thy _Siluia_ shepheards queen.
+
+    _Motto._  The sun that lights this world below,
+              Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
+    _Perkin._ These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
+              Thy _Syluia_ is as chast, as fayre.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Rowland._ Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
+    _Chorus._  Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
+    _Row:_     O she alone the shepheards Queen,
+    _Cho:_     Her Flocke that leades,
+               The goddesse of these medes,
+               These mountaines and these plaines.
+
+    _Row:_     Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
+    _Cho:_     Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
+    _Row:_     Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
+    _Cho:_     Fy on that prayse,                                     10
+               In striuing things to rayse:
+               That doth but make them lesse.
+
+    _Row:_     That doe the flowery spring prolong,
+    _Cho:_     So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
+    _Row:_     And keeps the plenteous summer young:
+    _Cho:_     And doth asswage
+               The wrathfull winters rage
+               That would our flocks destroy.
+
+    _Row:_     _Ioue_ saw her brest that naked lay,
+    _Cho:_     A sight alone was fit for _Ioue_ to see:               20
+    _Row:_     And swore it was the milkie way,
+    _Cho:_     Of all most pure,
+               The path (we vs assure)
+               Vnto _Ioues_ court to be.
+
+    _Row:_     He saw her tresses hanging downe.
+    _Cho:_     That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
+    _Row:_     And sayd that _Ariadnes_ crowne,
+    _Cho:_     With those compar'd:
+               The gods should not regard
+               Nor _Berenices_ hayre.                                 30
+
+    _Row:_     When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,
+    _Cho:_     O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:
+    _Row:_     They neuer needed _Cynthia's_ light,
+    _Cho:_     That soone gaue place,
+               Amazed with her grace,
+               That did attend thy sheepe.
+
+    _Row:_     Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
+    _Cho:_     When as she shall be placed in the skies,
+    _Row:_     She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
+    _Cho:_     And euermore,                                          40
+               We shepheards will adore,
+               Her setting and her rise.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton's;
+chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends' books. The
+first song is from _England's Helicon_, and is, I think, too pretty to
+be lost. Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their
+inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of
+which there are doubtless a few still lacking. But I have tried to make
+the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.
+
+
+From _England's Helicon_ (1600) p. 97.
+
+Rowlands _Madrigall._
+
+    Faire Loue rest thee heere,
+    Neuer yet was morne so cleere,
+    Sweete be not vnkinde,
+    Let me thy fauour finde,
+        Or else for loue I die.
+
+    Harke this pretty bubling spring,
+    How it makes the Meadowes ring,
+    Loue now stand my friend,
+    Heere let all sorrow end,
+        And I will honour thee.                                       10
+
+    See where little _Cupid_ lyes,
+    Looking babies in her eyes.
+    _Cupid_ helpe me now,
+    Lend to me thy bowe,
+        To wound her that wounded me.
+
+    Heere is none to see or tell,
+    All our flocks are feeding by,
+    This Banke with Roses spred,
+    Oh it is a dainty bed,
+        Fit for my Loue and me.                                       20
+
+    Harke the birds in yonder Groaue,
+    How they chaunt vnto my Loue,
+    Loue be kind to me,
+    As I haue beene to thee,
+        For thou hast wonne my hart.
+
+    Calme windes blow you faire,
+    Rock her thou gentle ayre,
+    O the morne is noone,
+    The euening comes too soone,
+        To part my Loue and me.                                       30
+
+    The Roses and thy lips doo meete,
+    Oh that life were halfe so sweete,
+    Who would respect his breath,
+    That might die such a death,
+        Oh that life thus might die.
+
+    All the bushes that be neere,
+    With sweet Nightingales beset,
+    Hush sweete and be still,
+    Let them sing their fill,
+        There's none our ioyes to let.                                40
+
+    Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast?
+    Oh why doo'st thou make such hast?
+    It is too early yet,
+    So soone from ioyes to flit
+        Why art thou so vnkind?
+
+    See my little Lambkins runne,
+    Looke on them till I haue done,
+    Hast not on the night,
+    To rob me of her light,
+        That liue but by her eyes.                                    50
+
+    Alas, sweete Loue, we must depart,
+    Harke, my dogge begins to barke,
+    Some bodie's comming neere,
+    They shall not find vs heere,
+        For feare of being chid.
+
+    Take my Garland and my Gloue,
+    Weare it for my sake my Loue,
+    To morrow on the greene,
+    Thou shalt be our Sheepheards Queene,
+        Crowned with Roses gay.                                       60
+
+                      _Mich. Drayton._
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+From T. Morley's _First Book of Ballets_ (1595).
+
+Mr. M.D. to the Author.
+
+    Such was old _Orpheus_ cunning,
+    That sencelesse things drew neere him,
+    And heards of beasts to heare him,
+    The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,
+    Morley! but this enchaunting
+    To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.
+    And yet thou needst not feare him;
+    Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,
+    And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.
+
+
+Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's _Legend of Humphrey Duke of
+Gloucester_ (1600).
+
+To his friend, Master _Chr. M._ his Booke.
+
+    Like as a man, on some aduenture bound
+    His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,
+    T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;
+    Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,
+    That if the voyage (happily) be good:
+    They his good fortune freely may pertake;
+    If otherwise it perrish in the flood,
+    Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.
+    On thy returne I put this little forth,
+    My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,
+    Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,
+    Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;
+      And if thy fortune prosper, I may see
+      I haue some share, though most returne to thee.
+
+                                  _Mich. Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; _Holy Roode_ (1609).
+
+_To_ M. IOHN DAVIES, _my good friend_.
+
+    _Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,
+    And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,
+    As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,
+    If with the _Muses_ they will haue commerce:
+    Seldome at _Stawles_, me, this way men rehearse,
+    To mine _Inferiours_, not unto my _Betters:
+    _He stales his _Lines_ that so doeth them disperse;
+    I am so free, I loue not _Golden-fetters_.
+    And many _Lines_ fore _Writers_, be but Setters
+    To them which cheate with_ Papers; _which doth pierse,
+    Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:
+    To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse
+      Often (my good _Iohn_; and I loue) thy_ Letters_;
+      Which lend me Credit, as I lend my _Verse_._
+
+                                  Michael Drayton.
+
+
+Prefixed to Sir David Murray's _Sophonisba_ &c. (1611).
+
+_To my kinde friend_ Da: Murray.
+
+    In new attire (and put most neatly on)
+    Thou _Murray_ mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
+    As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
+    Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
+    So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
+    That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
+    Into a body of delicious ayres:
+    Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
+    That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
+    Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,
+    But breathing now vpon our colder shore,
+    Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,
+      Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,
+      That what she was, she's euery where the same.
+
+                                  M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Among the Panegyrical Verses before Coryat's _Crudities_ (1611).
+
+_Incipit Michael Drayton_.
+
+A briefe Prologue to the verses _following_.
+
+    Deare _Tom_, thy booke was like to come to light,
+    Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write;
+    They go before whose wits are at their noones,
+    _And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones._
+
+    Many there be that write before thy Booke,
+    For whom (except here) who could euer looke?
+    Thrice happy are all wee that had the Grace
+    To haue our names set in this liuing place.
+    Most worthy man, with thee it is euen thus,
+    As men take _Dottrels_, so hast thou ta'n vs.
+    Which as a man his arme or leg doth set,
+    So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit:
+    Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes
+    And we are all thy _Zanies_, thy true _Apes_.                     10
+    I saw this age (from what it was at first)
+    Swolne, and so bigge, that it was like to burst,
+    Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion,
+    That who will thriue, must hazard his damnation:
+    Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist,
+    As to dim heauen: I looked for Antichrist
+    Or some new set of Diuels to sway hell,
+    Worser then those, that in the _Chaos_ fell:
+    Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring,
+    At length it brought forth this: O most strange thing;            20
+    And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head
+    Euer is hard'st to be deliuered.
+    By thee wise _Coryate_ we are taught to know,
+    Great, with great men which is the way to grow.
+    For in a new straine thou com'st finely in,
+    Making thy selfe like those thou mean'st to winne:
+    Greatnesse to me seem'd euer full of feare,
+    Which thou found'st false at thy arriuing there,
+    Of the _Bermudas_, the example such,
+    Where not a ship vntill this time durst touch;                    30
+    Kep't as suppos'd by hels infernall dogs,
+    Our Fleet found their most honest wyld courteous hogs.
+    Liue vertuous _Coryate_, and for euer be
+    Lik'd of such wise men, as are most like thee.
+
+                        _Explicit Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to William Browne's _Britannia's Pastorals_ (1613).
+
+To his Friend the AVTHOR.
+
+    Driue forth thy Flocke, young Pastor, to that Plaine,
+    Where our old Shepheards wont their flocks to feed;
+    To those cleare walkes, where many a skilfull Swaine
+    To'ards the calme eu'ning, tun'd his pleasant Reede,
+    Those, to the _Muses_ once so sacred, Downes,
+    As no rude foote might there presume to stand:
+    (Now made the way of the vnworthiest Clownes,
+    Dig'd and plow'd vp with each vnhallowed hand)
+    If possible thou canst, redeeme those places,
+    Where, by the brim of many a siluer Spring,                       10
+    The learned Maydens, and delightfull Graces
+    Often haue sate to heare our Shepheards sing:
+    Where on those _Pines_ the neighb'ring Groues among,
+    (Now vtterly neglected in these dayes)
+    Our Garlands, Pipes, and Cornamutes were hong
+    The monuments of our deserued praise.
+    So may thy Sheepe like, so thy Lambes increase,
+    And from the Wolfe feede euer safe and free!
+    So maist thou thriue, among the learned prease,
+    As thou young Shepheard art belou'd of mee!                       20
+
+
+Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's _Georgics_ (1618).
+
+To my worthy friend Mr. _George Chapman_, and his translated _Hesiod_.
+
+        _Chapman_; We finde by thy past-prized fraught,
+    What wealth thou dost vpon this Land conferre;
+    Th'olde _Grecian_ Prophets hither that hast brought,
+    Of their full words the true interpreter:
+    And by thy trauell, strongly hast exprest
+    The large dimensions of the English tongue;
+    Deliuering them so well, the first and best,
+    That to the world in Numbers euer sung.
+    Thou hast vnlock'd the treasury, wherein
+    All Art, and knowledge haue so long been hidden:                  10
+    Which, till the gracefull Muses did begin
+    Here to inhabite, was to vs forbidden.
+        In blest _Elizivm_ (in a place most fit)
+    Vnder that tree due to the _Delphian_ God,
+    _Mus�us_, and that _Iliad Singer_ sit,
+    And neare to them that noble _Hesiod_,
+    Smoothing their rugged foreheads; and do smile,
+    After so many hundred yeares to see
+    Their Poems read in this farre westerne Ile,
+    Translated from their ancient Greeke, by thee;                    20
+    Each his good _Genius_ whispering in his eare,
+    That with so lucky, and auspicious fate
+    Did still attend them, whilst they liuing were,
+    And gaue their Verses such a lasting date.
+    Where slightly passing by the _Thespian_ spring,
+    Many long after did but onely sup;
+    Nature, then fruitfull, forth these men did bring,
+    To fetch deep Rowses from _Ioues_ plentious cup.
+        In thy free labours (friend) then rest content,
+    Feare not _Detraction_, neither fawne on _Praise_:                30
+    When idle _Censure_ all her force hath spent,
+    _Knowledge_ can crowne her self with her owne Baies.
+    Their Lines, that haue so many liues outworne,
+    Cleerely expounded shall base Enuy scorne.
+
+                                  _Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to Book ij. of _Primaleon_, &c. Translated by Anthony Munday
+(1619).
+
+_OF THE WORKE_ _and Translation._
+
+    _If in opinion of iudiciall wit,_
+    Primaleons_ sweet Invention well deserue:
+    Then he (no lesse) which hath translated it,
+    Which doth his sense, his forme, his phrase, obserue.
+    And in true method of his home-borne stile,
+    (Following the fashion of a French conceate)
+    Hath brought him heere into this famous Ile,
+    Where but a stranger, now hath made his seate.
+      He liues a Prince, and comming in this sort,
+      Shall to his Countrey of your fame report._
+
+                                  M.D.
+
+
+From _Annalia Dubrensia_ (1636).
+
+TO MY NOBLE Friend Mr. ROBERT DOVER, on his braue annuall
+_Assemblies_ vpon _Cotswold_.
+
+    Douer, to doe thee Right, who will not striue,
+    That dost in these dull yron Times reuiue
+    The golden Ages glories; which poore Wee
+    Had not so much as dream't on but for Thee?
+    As those braue _Grecians_ in their happy dayes,
+    On Mount Olympus to their _Hercules_
+    Ordain'd their games Olimpick, and so nam'd
+    Of that great Mountaine; for those pastimes fam'd:
+    Where then their able Youth, Leapt, Wrestled, Ran,
+    Threw the arm'd Dart; and honour'd was the _Man_                  10
+    That was the Victor; In the Circute there
+    The nimble Rider, and skill'd Chariotere
+    Stroue for the Garland; In those noble Times
+    There to their Harpes the Poets sang their Rimes;
+    That whilst _Greece_ flourisht, and was onely then
+    Nurse of all Arts, and of all famous men:
+    Numbring their yeers, still their accounts they made,
+    Either from this or that _Olimpiade_.
+    So _Douer_, from these _Games_, by thee begun,
+    Wee'l reckon Ours, as time away doth run.                         20
+    Wee'l haue thy Statue in some Rocke cut out,
+    With braue Inscriptions garnished about;
+    And vnder written, _Loe, this was the man,_
+    DOVER, _that first these noble Sports began._
+    Ladds of the Hills, and Lasses of the Vale,
+    In many a song, and many a merry Tale
+    Shall mention Thee; and hauing leaue to play,
+    Vnto thy name shall make a Holy day.
+    The _Cosswold_ Shepheards as their flockes they keepe,
+    To put off lazie drowsinesse and sleepe,                          30
+    Shall sit to tell, and heare thy Story tould,
+    That night shall come ere they their flocks can fould.
+
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES
+
+
+These notes are not intended to supply materials for the criticism of
+the text. So freely, indeed, did Drayton alter his poems for a fresh
+edition, that the ordinary machinery of an _apparatus criticus_ would be
+overtasked if the attempt were made. All that has been undertaken here
+is to provide the requisite information in places where the text
+followed seemed open to suspicion.
+
+It may be added that the punctuation of the originals has in general
+been preserved; in a few flagrant instances, where the text as it stood
+was misleading, it has been modified. Such changes are not noted here.
+
+  2,  1, l.  14    vertues] vertuous 1619
+
+  3,  3, l.   1    Ioue] loue 1599, 1602, 1605
+
+         l.   3    them forth,] them, forth 1599. _But the 1619 version
+                     supports the reading in the text._
+
+  5,  8, l.   8    men] ones 1599: women 1619
+
+         l.   9    to 1599, 1619: of 1594
+
+  6,  9, l.  11    in] on 1602
+
+     10, l.  12    her] his 1602: their 1619
+
+  8, 14, l.  14    anatomize 1599. _But there is ground for believing
+                     that_ anotamize _represents a current
+                     pronunciation._
+
+  9, 15, l.  10    She'st] ? She'll
+
+ 10, 17, l.   9    Were] Where 1594
+
+     18, l.   5    Elizia] Elizium 1599
+
+ 11, 20, l.  10    whir-poole] whirl-poole 1602
+
+         l.  12    Helycon] Helicon 1602
+
+ 14, 26, l.   5    Thy 1599 etc.: The 1594
+
+ 15, 27, l.   4    Thus] This 1594
+
+         l.  12    depriued] ? depraued
+
+ 18, 33, l.   3    Wishing] Wisheth 1599
+
+ 19, 36, l.  13    And others] And eithers 1599
+
+ 20, 37, l.   4    euer-certaine] neuer-certaine 1602
+
+ 28,  1, l.   4    song] sung 1613
+
+ 31, 10, l.   2    bids] bad 1619
+
+         l.  12    my ... his] his ... my 1619
+
+ 37, 30, l.  14    hollowed] halowed 1605: hallow'd 1619. _But cf._ 94,
+                   l. 18.
+
+ 38, 43, l.   3    Wherein 1602, 1605: Where, in 1619: Wherein 1599
+
+ 39, 44, l.   4    Paynting] Panting 1608
+
+         l.   8    Wherein 1602, 1605, 1619: Where in 1599
+
+ 40, 55, l.   7    forces heere,] forces, here 1619
+
+     56, _heading_ A Consonet] A Cansonet 1602
+
+ 41, 57, l.  13    yet] then 1595
+
+ 42, 17, ll. 4, 13 Promethius] Prometheus 1605
+
+ 43, 27, l.   2    Who can he loue? 1608: Who? can he loue: 1619
+
+         l.  12    They resolute,] They resolute? 1608, 1619
+
+ 44, 31, l.   4    appose] oppose 1608, 1619
+
+         l.   9    They 1619: The 1602, 1605, 1608
+
+ 48, 47, l.   8    a 1619: and 1605, 1608
+
+ 49, 51, l.   1    to 1608: _omitted in_ 1605
+
+ 53, 21, l.  11    soe] ? loe
+
+         l.  13    Troth] Froth 1619
+
+ 71,     l.  16    scowles] scoulds 1606
+
+         l.  37    whome 1606: whose 1619
+
+         l.  41    rage 1606: age 1619
+
+ 74,     l.  25    he 1619: shee 1606
+
+ 77,     l.  34    some few 1606: some, few 1619
+
+ 79,     l.  10    their] ? there.
+
+ 83,     l.  72    Stuck] _The emendation_ Struck _is tempting (the form
+                     is somewhat uncommon but not unparalleled);
+                     especially in view of_ l. 80.
+
+ 94,     l.  18    hollow'd] _cf._ 37, 30, l. 14
+
+ 96,     l. 120    the] _no doubt a printer's error for_ they
+
+ 97,     l. 125    be lowe] belowe 1627
+
+ 97,     l. 126    whether] whethet 1627
+
+ 98,     l.  37    it] _omitted in_ 1627
+
+101,     l.  62    be] ? been
+
+104,     l.  88    him] ? them
+
+         l.  94    ceaze 1620: lease 1627
+
+106,     l.  37    his] _omitted in_ 1631
+
+         l.  56    warnd] warne 1627
+
+110,     l. 105    Neat] Next _conj. Beeching_
+
+118,    _heading_  Chaplaine] Chapliane 1627
+
+120,     l.  81    extirpe 1631: extipe 1627
+
+146,     l.  90    fett] sett _and_ frett _have been conjectured._
+
+153,     l.  92    debate] delate 1627
+
+154,     l. 115    claue] ? cleaue
+
+156,     l. 220    euery] euer 1627
+
+174,     l. 225    wither] whither 1630
+
+177,     l. 343    rawe] taw 1748
+
+192,     l.  18    there] they 1630
+
+232,     l.  12    vnto] vp to 1619
+
+233,     l.  53    fame] faire 1606
+
+234,     l.  66    moue] mock 1606
+
+238,     l.  25    feature] features 1619
+
+240,     l.  99    long] loue 1606
+
+242, _Ecl. ij,_ l. 21  moane 1600: moans 1605
+
+243,     l.  55    But it if the Male doth want 1619
+
+244,     l.  37    along she went 1619: she went along 1606
+
+245,     l.  43    lowe] loud 1600, 1619
+
+247,     l.  37    glories 1619: glorious 1606
+
+
+ERRATA
+
+Page  94, l.   5  _for_ of said _read_ said
+
+  "  173, l. 170  _for_ you _read_ your
+
+
+
+
+Oxford
+Printed at the Clarendon Press
+By Horace Hart, M.A.
+Printer to the University
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
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+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Minor Poems of Michael Drayton.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Minor Poems of Michael Drayton
+
+Author: Michael Drayton
+
+Editor: Cyril Brett
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2006 [EBook #17873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINOR POEMS OF MICHAEL DRAYTON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1>
+MINOR POEMS<br />
+OF<br />
+MICHAEL DRAYTON</h1>
+
+
+<h3>CHOSEN AND EDITED BY<br />
+CYRIL BRETT</h3>
+
+
+<h4>OXFORD<br />
+AT THE CLARENDON PRESS<br />
+1907
+</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h5>
+Henry Frowde, M.A.<br />
+Publisher to the University of Oxford<br />
+London, Edinburgh, New York<br />
+and Toronto<br />
+</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'>PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Chronological Table</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_iv'>iv</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_v'>v</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sonnets</span> (1594)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sonnets</span> (1599)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_28'>28</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sonnets</span> (1602)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_42'>42</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sonnets</span> (1605)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sonnets</span> (1619)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_51'>51</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Odes</span> (1619)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_56'>56</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Odes</span> (1606)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_85'>85</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Elegies</span> (1627)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Nimphidia</span> (1627)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_124'>124</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Quest of Cynthia</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_144'>144</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Shepards Sirena</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Muses Elizium</span> (1630)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_161'>161</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Songs from the Shepherd's Garland</span> (1593)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_231'>231</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Songs from the Shepherd's Garland</span> (1605)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_240'>240</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Songs from the Shepherd's Garland</span> (1606)</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_242'>242</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Appendix</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_248'>248</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap">Notes</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_257'>257</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF DRAYTON'S LIFE AND WORKS</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1563</td>
+  <td align='left'>Drayton born at Hartshill, Warwickshire.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1572?</td>
+  <td align='left'>Drayton a page in the house of Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>c. 1574</td>
+  <td align='left'>Anne Goodere born?</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>Feb. 1591</td>
+  <td align='left'>Drayton in London. <i>Harmony of Church</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1593</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Idea, the Shepherd's Garland</i>. <i>Legend of Peirs Gaveston</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1594</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Ideas Mirrour</i>. <i>Matilda</i>. Lucy Harrington becomes Countess of Bedford.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1595</td>
+  <td align='left'>Sir Henry Goodere the elder dies. <i>Endimion and Phoebe</i>, dedicated to Lucy Bedford.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1595-6</td>
+  <td align='left'>Anne Goodere married to Sir Henry Rainsford.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1596</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Mortimeriados</i>. <i>Legends of Robert, Matilda, and Gaveston</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1597</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>England's Heroical Epistles</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1598</td>
+  <td align='left'>Drayton already at work on the <i>Polyolbion</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1599</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Epistles</i> and <i>Idea</i> sonnets, new edition. (Date of Portrait of Drayton in National Portrait Gallery.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1600</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Sir John Oldcastle</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1602</td>
+  <td align='left'>New edition of <i>Epistles</i> and <i>Idea</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1603</td>
+  <td align='left'>Drayton made an Esquire of the Bath, to Sir Walter Aston. <i>To the Maiestie of King James</i>. <i>Barons' Wars</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1604</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>The Owle</i>. <i>A Pean Triumphall</i>. <i>Moyses in a Map of his Miracles</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1605</td>
+  <td align='left'>First collected edition of <i>Poems</i>. Another edition of <i>Idea</i> and <i>Epistles</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1606</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Poemes Lyrick and Pastorall</i>. <i>Odes</i>. <i>Eglogs</i>. <i>The Man in the Moone</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1607</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Legend of Great Cromwell</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1608</td>
+  <td align='left'>Reprint of Collected Poems.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1609</td>
+  <td align='left'>Another edition of <i>Cromwell</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1610</td>
+  <td align='left'>Reprint of Collected Poems.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1613</td>
+  <td align='left'>Reprint of Collected Poems. First Part of <i>Polyolbion</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1618</td>
+  <td align='left'>Two <i>Elegies</i> in FitzGeoffrey's <i>Satyrs and Epigrames</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1619</td>
+  <td align='left'>Collected Folio edition of Poems.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1620</td>
+  <td align='left'>Second edition of <i>Elegies</i>, and reprint of 1619 Poems.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1622</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Polyolbion</i> complete.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1627</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Battle of Agincourt</i>, <i>Nymphidia</i>, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1630</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Muses Elizium</i>. <i>Noah's Floud</i>. <i>Moses his Birth and Miracles</i>. <i>David and Goliah</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1631</td>
+  <td align='left'>Second edition of 1627 folio. Drayton dies towards the end of the year.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1636</td>
+  <td align='left'>Posthumous poem appeared in <i>Annalia Dubrensia</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>1637</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>Poems</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+
+
+<p>Michael Drayton was born in 1563, at Hartshill, near Atherstone, in
+Warwickshire, where a cottage, said to have been his, is still shown. He
+early became a page to Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth Hall: his own
+words give the best picture of his early years here.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> His education
+would seem to have been good, but ordinary; and it is very doubtful if
+he ever went to a university.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Besides the authors mentioned in the
+Epistle to Henry Reynolds, he was certainly familiar with Ovid and
+Horace, and possibly with Catullus: while there seems no reason to doubt
+that he read Greek, though it is quite true that his references to Greek
+authors do not prove any first-hand acquaintance. He understood French,
+and read Rabelais and the French sonneteers, and he seems to have been
+acquainted with Italian.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> His knowledge of English literature was
+wide, and his judgement good: but his chief bent lay towards the
+history, legendary and otherwise, of his native country, and his vast
+stores of learning on this subject bore fruit in the <i>Polyolbion</i>.</p>
+
+<p>While still at Polesworth, Drayton fell in love with his patron's
+younger daughter, Anne;<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> and, though she married, in 1596, Sir Henry
+Rainsford of Clifford, Drayton continued his devotion to her for many
+years, and also became an intimate friend of her husband's, writing a
+sincere elegy on his death.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> About February,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> 1591, Drayton paid a
+visit to London, and published his first work, the <i>Harmony of the
+Church</i>, a series of paraphrases from the Old Testament, in
+fourteen-syllabled verse of no particular vigour or grace. This book was
+immediately suppressed by order of Archbishop Whitgift, possibly because
+it was supposed to savour of Puritanism.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> The author, however,
+published another edition in 1610; indeed, he seems to have had a
+fondness for this style of work; for in 1604 he published a dull poem,
+<i>Moyses in a Map of his Miracles</i>, re-issued in 1630 as <i>Moses his Birth
+and Miracles</i>. Accompanying this piece, in 1630, were two other 'Divine
+poems': <i>Noah's Floud</i>, and <i>David and Goliath</i>. <i>Noah's Floud</i> is, in
+part, one of Drayton's happiest attempts at the catalogue style of
+bestiary; and Mr. Elton finds in it some foreshadowing of the manner of
+<i>Paradise Lost</i>. But, as a whole, Drayton's attempts in this direction
+deserve the oblivion into which they, in common with the similar
+productions of other authors, have fallen. In the dedication and preface
+to the <i>Harmony of the Church</i> are some of the few traces of Euphuism
+shown in Drayton's work; passages in the <i>Heroical Epistles</i> also occur
+to the mind.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> He was always averse to affectation, literary or
+otherwise, and in Elegy viij deliberately condemns Lyly's fantastic
+style.</p>
+
+<p>Probably before Drayton went up to London, Sir Henry Goodere saw that he
+would stand in need of a patron more powerful than the master of
+Polesworth, and introduced him to the Earl and Countess of Bedford.
+Those who believe<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Drayton to have been a Pope in petty spite,
+identify the 'Idea' of his earlier poems with Lucy, Countess of Bedford;
+though they are forced to acknowledge as self-evident that the 'Idea' of
+his later work is Anne, Lady Rainsford. They then proceed to say that
+Drayton, after consistently honouring the Countess in his verse for
+twelve years, abruptly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> transferred his allegiance, not forgetting to
+heap foul abuse on his former patroness, out of pique at some temporary
+withdrawal of favour. Not only is this directly contrary to all we know
+and can infer of Drayton's character, but Mr. Elton has decisively
+disproved it by a summary of bibliographical and other evidence. Into
+the question it is here unnecessary to enter, and it has been mentioned
+only because it alone, of the many Drayton-controversies, has cast any
+slur on the poet's reputation.</p>
+
+<p>In 1593, Drayton published <i>Idea, the Shepherds Garland</i>, in nine
+Eclogues; in 1606 he added a tenth, the best of all, to the new edition,
+and rearranged the order, so that the new eclogue became the ninth. In
+these Pastorals, while following the <i>Shepherds Calendar</i> in many ways,
+he already displays something of the sturdy independence which
+characterized him through life. He abandons Spenser's quasi-rustic
+dialect, and, while keeping to most of the pastoral conventions, such as
+the singing-match and threnody, he contrives to introduce something of a
+more natural and homely strain. He keeps the political allusions,
+notably in the Eclogue containing the song in praise of <i>Beta</i>, who is,
+of course, Queen Elizabeth. But an over-bold remark in the last line of
+that song was struck out in 1606; and the new eclogue has no political
+reference. He is not ashamed to allude directly to Spenser; and indeed
+his direct debts are limited to a few scattered phrases, as in the
+<i>Ballad</i> of <i>Dowsabel</i>. Almost to the end of his literary career,
+Drayton mentions Spenser with reverence and praise.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p>
+
+<p>It is in the songs interspersed in the Eclogues that Drayton's best work
+at this time is to be found: already his metrical versatility is
+discernible; for though he doubtless remembered the many varieties of
+metre employed by Spenser in the <i>Calendar</i>, his verses already bear a
+stamp of their own. The long but impetuous lines, such as 'Trim up her
+golden tresses with Apollo's sacred tree', afford a striking contrast to
+the archaic romance-metre, derived from <i>Sir Thopas</i> and its fellows,
+which appears in <i>Dowsabel</i>, and it again to the melancholy, murmuring
+cadences of the lament for Elphin. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> must, however, be confessed that
+certain of the songs in the 1593 edition were full of recondite conceits
+and laboured antitheses, and were rightly struck out, to be replaced by
+lovelier poems, in the edition of 1606. The song to Beta was printed in
+<i>Englands Helicon</i>, 1600; here, for the first time, appeared the song of
+<i>Dead Love</i>, and for the only time, <i>Rowlands Madrigal</i>. In these songs,
+Drayton offends least in grammar, always a weak point with him; in the
+body of the Eclogues, in the earlier Sonnets, in the Odes, occur the
+most extraordinary and perplexing inversions. Quite the most striking
+feature of the Eclogues, especially in their later form, is their bold
+attempt at greater realism, at a breaking-away from the conventional
+images and scenery.</p>
+
+<p>Having paid his tribute to one poetic fashion, Drayton in 1594 fell in
+with the prevailing craze for sonneteering, and published <i>Ideas
+Mirrour</i>, a series of fifty-one 'amours' or sonnets, with two prefatory
+poems, one by Drayton and one by an unknown, signing himself <i>Gorbo il
+fidele</i>. The title of these poems Drayton possibly borrowed from the
+French sonneteer, de Pontoux: in their style much recollection of
+Sidney, Constable, and Daniel is traceable. They are ostensibly
+addressed to his mistress, and some of them are genuine in feeling; but
+many are merely imitative exercises in conceit; some, apparently, trials
+in metre. These amours were again printed, with the title of 'sonnets',
+in <i>1599</i><a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>, 1600, <i>1602</i>, 1603, <i>1605</i>, 1608, 1610, 1613, <i>1619</i>, and
+1631, during the poet's lifetime. It is needless here to discuss whether
+Drayton were the 'rival poet' to Shakespeare, whether these sonnets were
+really addressed to a man, or merely to the ideal Platonic beauty; for
+those who are interested in these points, I subjoin references to the
+sonnets which touch upon them.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> From the prentice-work evident in
+many of the <i>Amours</i>, it would seem that certain of them are among
+Drayton's earliest poems; but others show a craftsman not meanly
+advanced in his art. Nevertheless, with few exceptions, this first
+'bundle of sonnets' consists rather of trials of skill, bubbles of the
+mind; most of his sonnets which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> strike the reader as touched or
+penetrated with genuine passion belong to the editions from 1599
+onwards; implying that his love for Anne Goodere, if at all represented
+in these poems, grew with his years, for the 'love-parting' is first
+found in the edition of 1619. But for us the question should not be, are
+these sonnets genuine representations of the personal feeling of the
+poet? but rather, how far do they arouse or echo in us as individuals
+the universal passion? There are at least some of Drayton's sonnets
+which possess a direct, instant, and universal appeal, by reason of
+their simple force and straightforward ring; and not in virtue of any
+subtle charm of sound and rhythm, or overmastering splendour of diction
+or thought. Ornament vanishes, and soberness and simplicity increase, as
+we proceed in the editions of the sonnets. Drayton's chief attempt in
+the jewelled or ornamental style appeared in 1595, with the title of
+<i>Endimion and Phoebe</i>, and was, in a sense, an imitation of Marlowe's
+<i>Hero and Leander</i>. <i>Hero and Leander</i> is, as Swinburne says, a shrine
+of Parian marble, illumined from within by a clear flame of passion;
+while <i>Endimion and Phoebe</i> is rather a curiously wrought tapestry, such
+as that in Mortimer's Tower, woven in splendid and harmonious colours,
+wherein, however, the figures attain no clearness or subtlety of
+outline, and move in semi-conventional scenery. It is, none the less,
+graceful and impressive, and of a like musical fluency with other poems
+of its class, such as <i>Venus and Adonis</i>, or <i>Salmacis and
+Hermaphrodius</i>. Parts of it were re-set and spoilt in a 1606 publication
+of Drayton's, called <i>The Man in the Moone</i>.</p>
+
+<p>In 1593 and 1594 Drayton also published his earliest pieces on the
+mediaeval theme of the 'Falls of the Illustrious'; they were <i>Peirs
+Gavesson</i> and <i>Matilda the faire and chaste daughter of the Lord Robert
+Fitzwater</i>. Here Drayton followed in the track of Boccaccio, Lydgate,
+and the <i>Mirrour for Magistrates</i>, walking in the way which Chaucer had
+derided in his <i>Monkes Tale</i>: and with only too great fidelity does
+Drayton adapt himself to the dullnesses of his model: fine rhetoric is
+not altogether wanting, and there is, of course, the consciousness that
+these subjects deal with the history of his beloved country, but neither
+these, nor <i>Robert, Duke of Normandy</i> (1596), nor <i>Great Cromwell, Earl
+of Essex</i> (1607 and 1609), nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> the <i>Miseries of Margaret</i> (1627) can
+escape the charge of tediousness.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> <i>England's Heroical Epistles</i> were
+first published in 1597, and other editions, of 1598, 1599, and 1602,
+contain new epistles. These are Drayton's first attempt to strike out a
+new and original vein of English poetry: they are a series of letters,
+modelled on Ovid's <i>Heroides</i>,<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> addressed by various pairs of lovers,
+famous in English history, to each other, and arranged in chronological
+order, from Henry II and Rosamond to Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guilford
+Dudley. They are, in a sense, the most important of Drayton's writings,
+and they have certainly been the most popular, up to the early
+nineteenth century. In these poems Drayton foreshadowed, and probably
+inspired, the smooth style of Fairfax, Waller, and Dryden. The metre,
+the grammar, and the thought, are all perfectly easy to follow, even
+though he employs many of the Ovidian 'turns' and 'clenches'. A certain
+attempt at realization of the different characters is observable, but
+the poems are fine rhetorical exercises rather than realizations of the
+dramatic and passionate possibilities of their themes. In 1596, Drayton,
+as we have seen, published the <i>Mortimeriados</i>, a kind of epic, with
+Mortimer as its hero, of the wars between King Edward II and the
+Barons.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> It was written in the seven-line stanza of Chaucer's
+<i>Troilus and Cressida</i> and Spenser's <i>Hymns</i>. On its republication in
+1603, with the title of the <i>Barons' Wars</i>, the metre was changed to
+<i>ottava rima</i>, and Drayton showed, in an excellent preface, that he
+fully appreciated the principles and the subtleties of the metrical art.
+While possessing many fine passages, the <i>Barons'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> Wars</i> is somewhat
+dull, lacking much of the poetry of the older version; and does not
+escape from Drayton's own criticism of Daniel's Chronicle Poems: 'too
+much historian in verse, ... His rhymes were smooth, his metres well did
+close, But yet his manner better fitted prose'.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> The description of
+Mortimer's Tower in the sixth book recalls the ornate style of <i>Endimion
+and Phoebe</i>, while the fifth book, describing the miseries of King
+Edward, is the most moving and dramatic. But there is a general
+lifelessness and lack of movement for which these purple passages barely
+atone. The cause of the production of so many chronicle poems about this
+time has been supposed<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> to be the desire of showing the horrors of
+civil war, at a time when the queen was growing old, and no successor
+had, as it seemed, been accepted. Also they were a kind of parallel to
+the Chronicle Play; and Drayton, in any case even if we grant him to
+have been influenced by the example of Daniel, never needed much
+incentive to treat a national theme.</p>
+
+<p>About this time, we find Drayton writing for the stage. It seems
+unnecessary here to discuss whether the writing of plays is evidence of
+Drayton's poverty, or his versatility;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> but the fact remains that he
+had a hand in the production of about twenty. Of these, the only one
+which certainly survives is <i>The first part of the true and honorable
+historie, of the life of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham,</i> &amp;c.
+It is practically impossible to distinguish Drayton's share in this
+curious play, and it does not, therefore, materially assist the
+elucidation of the question whether he had any dramatic feeling or
+skill. It can be safely affirmed that the dramatic instinct was nor
+uppermost in his mind; he was a Seneca rather than a Euripides: but to
+deny him all dramatic idea, as does Dr. Whitaker, is too severe. There
+is decided, if slender, dramatic skill and feeling in certain of the
+<i>Nymphals</i>. Drayton's persons are usually, it must be said, rather
+figures in a tableau, or series of tableaux; but in the second and
+seventh <i>Nymphals</i>, and occasionally in the tenth, there is real<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span>
+dramatic movement. Closely connected with this question is the
+consideration of humour, which is wrongly denied to Drayton. Humour is
+observable first, perhaps, in the <i>Owle</i> (1604); then in the <i>Ode to his
+Rival</i> (1619); and later in the <i>Nymphidia</i>, <i>Shepheards Sirena</i>, and
+<i>Muses Elyzium</i>. The second <i>Nymphal</i> shows us the quiet laughter, the
+humorous twinkle, with which Drayton writes at times. The subject is an
+[Greek: ag&ocirc;n] or contest between two shepherds for the affections of a
+nymph called Lirope: Lalus is a vale-bred swain, of refined and elegant
+manners, skilled, nevertheless, in all manly sports and exercises;
+Cleon, no less a master in physical prowess, was nurtured by a hind in
+the mountains; the contrast between their manners is admirably
+sustained: Cleon is rough, inclined to be rude and scoffing, totally
+without tact, even where his mistress is concerned. Lalus remembers her
+upbringing and her tastes; he makes no unnecessary or ostentatious
+display of wealth; his gifts are simple and charming, while Cleon's are
+so grotesquely unsuited to a swain, that it is tempting to suppose that
+Drayton was quietly satirizing Marlowe's <i>Passionate Shepherd</i>. Lirope
+listens gravely to the swains in turn, and makes demure but provoking
+answers, raising each to the height of hope, and then casting them both
+down into the depths of despair; finally she refuses both, yet without
+altogether killing hope. Her first answer is a good specimen of her
+banter and of Drayton's humour.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p>
+
+<p>On the accession of James I, Drayton hastened to greet the King with a
+somewhat laboured song <i>To the Maiestie of King James</i>; but this poem
+was apparently considered to be premature: he cried <i>Vivat Rex</i>, without
+having said, <i>Mortua est eheu Regina</i>, and accordingly he suffered the
+penalty of his 'forward pen',<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> and was severely neglected by King and
+Court. Throughout James's reign a darker and more satirical mood
+possesses Drayton, intruding at times even into his strenuous
+recreation-ground, the <i>Polyolbion</i>, and manifesting itself more
+directly in his satires, the <i>Owle</i> (1604), the <i>Moon-Calfe</i> (1627), the
+<i>Man in the Moone</i> (1606), and his verse-letters and elegies; while his
+disappointment with the times, the country, and the King,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> flashes out
+occasionally even in the Odes, and is heard in his last publication, the
+<i>Muses Elizium</i> (1630). To counterbalance the disappointment in his
+hopes from the King, Drayton found a new and life-long friend in Walter
+Aston, of Tixall, in Staffordshire; this gentleman was created Knight of
+the Bath by James, and made Drayton one of his esquires. By Aston's
+'continual bounty' the poet was able to devote himself almost entirely
+to more congenial literary work; for, while Meres speaks of the
+<i>Polyolbion</i> in 1598,<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> and we may easily see that Drayton had the
+idea of that work at least as early as 1594,<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> yet he cannot have been
+able to give much time to it till now. Nevertheless, the 'declining and
+corrupt times' worked on Drayton's mind and grieved and darkened his
+soul, for we must remember that he was perfectly prosperous then and was
+not therefore incited to satire by bodily want or distress.</p>
+
+<p>In 1604 he published the <i>Owle</i>, a mild satire, under the form of a
+moral fable of government, reminding the reader a little of the
+<i>Parlement of Foules</i>. <i>The Man in the Moone</i> (1606) is partly a
+recension of <i>Endimion and Phoebe</i>, but is a heterogeneous mass of
+weakly satire, of no particular merit. The <i>Moon-Calfe</i> (1627) is
+Drayton's most savage and misanthropic excursion into the region of
+Satire; in which, though occasionally nobly ironic, he is more usually
+coarse and blustering, in the style of Marston.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> In 1605 Drayton
+brought out his first 'collected poems', from which the <i>Eclogues</i> and
+the <i>Owle</i> are omitted; and in 1606 he published his <i>Poemes Lyrick and
+Pastorall</i>, <i>Odes</i>, <i>Eglogs</i>, <i>The Man in the Moone</i>. Of these the
+<i>Eglogs</i> are a recension of the <i>Shepherd's Garland</i> of 1593: we have
+already spoken of <i>The Man in the Moone</i>. The <i>Odes</i> are by far the most
+important and striking feature of the book. In the preface, Drayton
+professes to be following Pindar, Anacreon, and Horace, though, as he
+modestly implies, at a great distance. Under the title of <i>Odes</i> he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span>
+includes a variety of subjects, and a variety of metres; ranging from an
+<i>Ode to his Harp</i> or <i>to his Criticks</i>, to a <i>Ballad of Agincourt</i>, or a
+poem on the Rose compared with his Mistress. In the edition of 1619
+appeared several more Odes, including some of the best; while many of
+the others underwent careful revision, notably the <i>Ballad</i>. 'Sing wee
+the Rose,' perhaps because of its unintelligibility, and the Ode to his
+friend John Savage, perhaps because too closely imitated from Horace,
+were omitted. Drayton was not the first to use the term <i>Ode</i> for a
+lyrical poem, in English: Soothern in 1584, and Daniel in 1592 had
+preceded him; but he was the first to give the name popularity in
+England, and to lift the kind as Ronsard had lifted it in France; and
+till the time of Cowper no other English poet showed mastery of the
+short, staccato measure of the Anacreontic as distinct from the Pindaric
+Ode. In the <i>Odes</i> Drayton shows to the fullest extent his metrical
+versatility: he touches the Skeltonic metre, the long ten-syllabled line
+of the <i>Sacrifice to Apollo</i>; and ascends from the smooth and melodious
+rhythms of the <i>New Year</i> through the inspiring harp-tones of the
+<i>Virginian Voyage</i> to the clangour and swing of the <i>Ballad of
+Agincourt</i>. His grammar is possibly more distorted here than anywhere,
+but, as Mr. Elton says, 'these are the obstacles of any poet who uses
+measures of four or six syllables.' His tone throughout is rather that
+of the harp, as played, perhaps, in Polesworth Hall, than that of any
+other instrument; but in 1619 Drayton has taken to him the lute of Carew
+and his compeers. In 1619 the style is lighter, the fancy gayer, more
+exquisite, more recondite. Most of his few metaphysical conceits are to
+be found in these later Odes, as in the <i>Heart</i>, the <i>Valentine</i>, and
+the <i>Crier</i>. In the comparison of the two editions the nobler, if more
+strained, tone of the earlier is obvious; it is still Elizabethan, in
+its nobility of ideal and purpose, in its enthusiasm, in its belief and
+confidence in England and her men; and this even though we catch a
+glimpse of the Jacobean woe in the <i>Ode to John Savage</i>: the 1619 Odes
+are of a different world; their spirit is lighter, more insouciant in
+appearance, though perhaps studiedly so; the rhythms are more fantastic,
+with less of strength and firmness, though with more of grace and
+superficial beauty; even the very textual alterations, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span> usually
+increasing the grace and the music of the lines, remind the reader that
+something of the old spontaneity and freshness is gone.</p>
+
+<p>In 1607 and 1609, Drayton published two editions of the last and weakest
+of his mediaeval poems&mdash;the <i>Legend of Great Cromwell</i>; and for the next
+few years he produced nothing new, only attending to the publication of
+certain reprints and new editions. During this time, however, he was
+working steadily at the <i>Polyolbion</i>, helped by the patronage of Aston
+and of Prince Henry. In 1612-13, Drayton burst upon an indifferent world
+with the first part of the great poem, containing eighteen songs; the
+title-page will give the best idea of the contents and plan of the book:
+'Poly-Olbion or a Chorographicall Description of the Tracts, Riuers,
+Mountaines, Forests, and other Parts of this renowned Isle of Great
+Britaine, With intermixture of the most Remarquable Stories,
+Antiquities, Wonders, Rarityes, Pleasures, and Commodities of the same:
+Digested in a Poem by Michael Drayton, Esq. With a Table added, for
+direction to those occurrences of Story and Antiquities, whereunto the
+Course of the Volume easily leades not.' &amp;c. On this work Drayton had
+been engaged for nearly the whole of his poetical career. The learning
+and research displayed in the poem are extraordinary, almost equalling
+the erudition of Selden in his Annotations to each Song. The first part
+was, for various reasons, a drug in the market, and Drayton found great
+difficulty in securing a publisher for the second part. But during the
+years from 1613 to 1622, he became acquainted with Drummond of
+Hawthornden through a common friend, Sir William Alexander of Menstry,
+afterwards Earl of Stirling. In 1618, Drayton starts a correspondence;
+and towards the end of the year mentions that he is corresponding also
+with Andro Hart, bookseller, of Edinburgh. The subject of his letter was
+probably the publication of the Second Part; which Drayton alludes to in
+a letter of 1619 thus: 'I have done twelve books more, that is from the
+eighteenth book, which was Kent, if you note it; all the East part and
+North to the river Tweed; but it lies by me; for the booksellers and I
+are in terms; they are a company of base knaves, whom I both scorn and
+kick at.' Finally, in 1622, Drayton got Marriott, Grismand, and Dewe, of
+London, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span> take the work, and it was published with a dedication to
+Prince Charles, who, after his brother's death, had given Drayton
+patronage. Drayton's preface to the Second Part is well worth quoting:</p>
+
+<p>'<i>To any that will read it.</i> When I first undertook this Poem, or, as
+some very skilful in this kind have pleased to term it, this Herculean
+labour, I was by some virtuous friends persuaded, that I should receive
+much comfort and encouragement therein; and for these reasons; First,
+that it was a new, clear, way, never before gone by any; then, that it
+contained all the Delicacies, Delights, and Rarities of this renowned
+Isle, interwoven with the Histories of the Britons, Saxons, Normans, and
+the later English: And further that there is scarcely any of the
+Nobility or Gentry of this land, but that he is in some way or other by
+his Blood interested therein. But it hath fallen out otherwise; for
+instead of that comfort, which my noble friends (from the freedom of
+their spirits) proposed as my due, I have met with barbarous ignorance,
+and base detraction; such a cloud hath the Devil drawn over the world's
+judgment, whose opinion is in few years fallen so far below all
+ballatry, that the lethargy is incurable: nay, some of the Stationers,
+that had the selling of the First Part of this Poem, because it went not
+so fast away in the sale, as some of their beastly and abominable trash,
+(a shame both to our language and nation) have either despitefully left
+out, or at least carelessly neglected the Epistles to the Readers, and
+so have cozened the buyers with unperfected books; which these that have
+undertaken the Second Part, have been forced to amend in the First, for
+the small number that are yet remaining in their hands. And some of our
+outlandish, unnatural, English, (I know not how otherwise to express
+them) stick not to say that there is nothing in this Island worth
+studying for, and take a great pride to be ignorant in any thing
+thereof; for these, since they delight in their folly, I wish it may be
+hereditary from them to their posterity, that their children may be
+begg'd for fools to the fifth generation, until it may be beyond the
+memory of man to know that there was ever other of their families:
+neither can this deter me from going on with Scotland, if means and time
+do not hinder me, to perform as much as I have promised in my First
+Song:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till through the sleepy main, to <i>Thuly</i> I have gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seen the Frozen Isles, the cold <i>Deucalidon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst whose iron Rocks, grim <i>Saturn</i> yet remains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound in those gloomy caves with adamantine chains.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And as for those cattle whereof I spake before, <i>Odi profanum vulgus, et
+arceo</i>, of which I account them, be they never so great, and so I leave
+them. To my friends, and the lovers of my labours, I wish all happiness.
+<i>Michael Drayton.</i>'</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Polyolbion</i> as a whole is easy and pleasant to read; and though in
+some parts it savours too much of a mere catalogue, yet it has many
+things truly poetical. The best books are perhaps the xiij, xiv, and xv,
+where he is on his own ground, and therefore naturally at his best. It
+is interesting to notice how much attention and space he devotes to
+Wales. He describes not only the 'wonders' but also the fauna and flora
+of each district; and of the two it would seem that the flowers
+interested him more. Though he was a keen observer of country sights and
+sounds (a fact sufficiently attested by the <i>Nymphidia</i> and the
+<i>Nymphals</i>), it is evident that his interest in most things except
+flowers was rather momentary or conventional than continuous and
+heart-felt; but of the flowers he loves to talk, whether he weaves us a
+garland for the Thame's wedding, or gives us the contents of a maund of
+simples; and his love, if somewhat homely and unimaginative, is apparent
+enough. But the main inspiration, as it is the main theme, of the
+<i>Polyolbion</i> is the glory and might and wealth, past, present, and
+future, of England, her possessions and her folk. Through all this
+glory, however, we catch the tone of Elizabethan sorrow over the 'Ruines
+of Time'; grief that all these mighty men and their works will perish
+and be forgotten, unless the poet makes them live for ever on the lips
+of men. Drayton's own voluminousness has defeated his purpose, and sunk
+his poem by its own bulk. Though it is difficult to go so far as Mr.
+Bullen, and say that the only thing better than a stroll in the
+<i>Polyolbion</i> is one in a Sussex lane, it is still harder to agree with
+Canon Beeching, that 'there are few beauties on the road', the beauties
+are many, though of a quietly rural type, and the road, if long and
+winding, is of good surface, while its cranks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span> constitute much of its
+charm. It is doubtless, from the outside, an appalling poem in these
+days of epitomes and monographs, but it certainly deserves to be rescued
+from oblivion and read.</p>
+
+<p>In 1618 Drayton contributed two <i>Elegies</i> to Henry FitzGeoffrey's
+<i>Satyrs and Epigrames</i>. These were on the Lady Penelope Clifton, and on
+'the death of the three sonnes of the Lord Sheffield, drowned neere
+where Trent falleth into Humber'. Neither is remarkable save for
+far-fetched conceits; they were reprinted in 1610, and again, with many
+others, in the volume of 1627. In 1619 Drayton issued a folio collected
+edition of his works, and reprinted it in 1620. In 1627 followed a folio
+of wholly fresh matter, including the <i>Battaile of Agincourt</i>; <i>the
+Miseries of Queene Margarite</i>, <i>Nimphidia</i>, <i>Quest of Cinthia</i>,
+<i>Shepheards Sirena</i>, <i>Moone-Calfe</i>, and <i>Elegies upon sundry occasions</i>.
+The <i>Battaile of Agincourt</i> is a somewhat otiose expansion, with purple
+patches, of the <i>Ballad</i>; it is, nevertheless, Drayton's best lengthy
+piece on a historical theme. Of the <i>Miseries of Queene Margarite</i> and
+of the <i>Moone-Calfe</i> we have already spoken. The most notable piece in
+the book is the <i>Nimphidia</i>. This poem of the Court of Fairy has
+'invention, grace, and humour', as Canon Beeching has said. It would be
+interesting to know exactly when it was composed and committed to paper,
+for it is thought that the three fairy poems in Herrick's <i>Hesperides</i>
+were written about 1626. In any case, Drayton's poem touches very
+little, and chiefly in the beginning, on the subject of any one of
+Herrick's three pieces. The style, execution, and impression left on the
+reader are quite different; even as they are totally unlike those of the
+<i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i>. Herrick's pieces are extraordinary
+combinations of the idea of 'King of Shadows', with a reality
+fantastically sober: the poems are steeped in moonlight. In Drayton all
+is clear day, or the most unromantic of nights; though everything is
+charming, there is no attempt at idealization, little of the higher
+faculty of imagination; but great realism, and much play of fancy.
+Herrick's verses were written by Cobweb and Moth together, Drayton's by
+Puck. Granting, however, the initial deficiency in subtlety of charm,
+the whole poem is inimitably graceful and piquant. The gay humour, the
+demure horror of the witchcraft, the terrible seriousness of the battle,
+wonderfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span> realize the mock-heroic gigantesque; and while there is not
+the minute accuracy of Gulliver in Lilliput, Drayton did not write for a
+sceptical or too-prying audience; quite half his readers believed more
+or less in fairies. In the metre of the poem Drayton again echoes that
+of the older romances, as he did in <i>Dowsabel</i>. In the <i>Quest of
+Cinthia</i>, while ostensibly we come to the real world of mortals, we are
+really in a non-existent land of pastoral convention, in the most
+pseudo-Arcadian atmosphere in which Drayton ever worked. The metre and
+the language are, however, charmingly managed. <i>The Shepheards Sirena</i>
+is a poem, apparently, 'where more is meant than meets the ear,' as so
+often in pastoral poetry<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a>; it is difficult to see exactly what is
+meant; but the Jacobean strain of doubt and fear is there, and the poem
+would seem to have been written some time earlier than 1627. The
+<i>Elegies</i> comprise a great variety of styles and themes; some are really
+threnodies, some verse-letters, some laments over the evil times, and
+one a summary of Drayton's literary opinions. He employs the couplet in
+his <i>Elegies</i> with a masterly hand, often with a deliberately rugged
+effect, as in his broader Marstonic satire addressed to William Browne;
+while the line of greater smoothness but equal strength is to be seen in
+the letters to Sandys and Jeffreys. He is fantastic and conceited in
+most of the threnodies; but, as is natural, that on his old friend, Sir
+Henry Rainsford, is least artificial and fullest of true feeling. The
+epistle to <i>Henery Reynolds. Of Poets and Poesie</i> shows Drayton as a
+sane and sagacious critic, ready to see the good, but keen to discern
+the weakness also; perhaps the clearest evidence of his critical skill
+is the way in which nearly all of his judgements on his contemporaries
+coincide with the received modern opinions.</p>
+
+<p>In his later years Drayton enjoyed the patronage of the third Earl and
+Countess of Dorset; and in <i>1630</i> he published his last volume, the
+<i>Muses Elizium</i>, of which he dedicated the pastoral part to the Earl,
+and the three divine poems at the end to the Countess. The <i>Muses
+Elizium</i> proper consists of Ten Pastorals or Nymphals, prefaced by a
+<i>Description of Elizium</i>. The three divine poems<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span> have been mentioned
+before, and were <i>Noah's Floud</i>, <i>Moses his Birth and Miracles</i>, and
+<i>David and Goliah</i>. The <i>Nymphals</i> are the crown and summary of much of
+the best in Drayton's work. Here he departed from the conventional type
+of pastoral, even more than in the <i>Shepherd's Garland</i>; but to say that
+he sang of English rustic life would hardly be true: the sixth
+<i>Nymphal</i>, allowing for a few pardonable exaggerations by the
+competitors, is almost all English, if we except the names; so is the
+tenth with the same exception; the first and fourth might take place
+anywhere, but are not likely in any country; the second is more
+conventional; the fifth is almost, but not quite, English; the third,
+seventh, and ninth are avowedly classical in theme; while the eighth is
+a more delicate and subtle fairy poem than the <i>Nymphidia</i>. The fourth
+and tenth <i>Nymphals</i> are also touched with the sadder, almost satiric
+vein; the former inveighing against the English imitation of foreigners
+and love of extravagance in dress; while the tenth complains of the
+improvident and wasteful felling of trees in the English forests. This
+last <i>Nymphal</i>, though designedly an epilogue, is probably rather a
+warning than a despairing lament, even though we conceive the old satyr
+to be Drayton himself. As a whole the <i>Nymphals</i> show Drayton at his
+happiest and lightest in style and metre; at his moments of greatest
+serenity and even gaiety; an atmosphere of sunshine seems to envelope
+them all, though the sun sink behind a cloud in the last. His music now
+is that of a rippling stream, whereas in his earlier days he spoke
+weightier and more sonorous words, with a mouth of gold.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p>
+
+<p>To estimate the poetical faculty of Drayton is a somewhat perplexing
+task; for, while rarely subtle, or rising to empyrean heights, he wrote
+in such varied styles, on such various themes, that the task, at first,
+seems that of criticizing many poets, not one. But through all his work
+runs the same eminently English spirit, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span> same honesty and clearness
+of idea, the same stolidity of purpose, and not infrequently of
+execution also; the same enthusiasm characterizes all his earlier, and
+much of his later work; the enthusiasm especially characteristic of
+Elizabethan England, and shown by Drayton in his passion for England and
+the English, in his triumphant joy in their splendid past, and his
+certainty of their future glory. As a poet, he lacked imagination and
+fine fury; he supplied their place by the airiest and clearest of
+fancies, by the strenuous labour of a great brain illumined by the
+steady flame of love for his country and for his lady. Mr. Courthope has
+said that he lacked loftiness and resolution of artistic purpose;
+without these, we ask, how could a man, not lavishly dowered with poetry
+in his soul, have achieved so much of it? It was his very fixity and
+loftiness of purpose, his English stubbornness and doggedness of
+resolution that enabled him to surmount so many obstacles of style and
+metre, of subject and thought. His two purposes, of glorifying his
+mistress and his friends, and of sounding England's glories past and
+future, while insisting on the dangers of a present decadence, never
+flagged or failed. All his poetry up to 1627 has this object directly or
+secondarily; and much after this date. Of the more abstract and
+universal aspects of his art he had not much conception; but he caught
+eagerly at the fashionable belief in the eternizing power of poetry; and
+had it not been that, where his patriotism was uppermost, he was
+deficient in humour and sense of proportion, he would have succeeded
+better: as it is, his more directly patriotic pieces are usually the
+dullest or longest of his works. He requires, like all other poets, the
+impulse of an absolutely personal and individual feeling, a moment of
+more intimate sympathy, to rouse him to his heights of song. Thus the
+<i>Ballad of Agincourt</i> is on the very theme of all patriotic themes that
+most attracted him; Virginian and other Voyages lay very close to his
+heart; and in certain sonnets to his lady lies his only imperishable
+work. Of sheer melody and power of song he had little, apart from his
+themes: he could not have sat down and written a few lark's or
+nightingale's notes about nothing as some of his contemporaries were
+able to do: he required the stimulus of a subject, and if he were really
+moved thereby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span> he beat the music out. Only in one or two of the later
+Odes, and in the volumes of 1627 and 1630, does his music ever seem to
+flow from him naturally. Akin to this quality of broad and extensive
+workmanship, to this faculty of taking a subject and when writing, with
+all thought concentrated on it, rather than on the method of writing
+about it, is his strange lack of what are usually called 'quotations'.
+For this is not only due to the fact that he is little known; there are,
+besides, so few detached remarks or aphorisms that are separately
+quotable; so few examples of that <i>curiosa felicitas</i> of diction: lines
+like these,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings....<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>are rare enough. Drayton, in fact, comes as near controverting the
+statement <i>Poeta nascitur, non fit</i>, as any one in English literature:
+by diligent toil and earnest desire he won a place for himself in the
+second rank of English poets: through love he once set foot in the
+circle of the mightiest. Sincere he was always, simple often, sensuous
+rarely. His great industry, his careful study, and his great receptivity
+are shown in the unusual spectacle of a man who has sung well in the
+language of his youth, suddenly learning, in his age, the tongue spoken
+by the younger generation, and reproducing it with individuality and
+sureness of touch. It is in rhetoric, splendid or rugged, in argument,
+in plain statement or description, in the outline sketch of a picture,
+that Drayton excels; magic of atmosphere and colouring are rarely
+present. Stolidity is, perhaps, his besetting sin; yet it is the sign of
+a slow, not a dull, intellect; an intellect, like his heart, which never
+let slip what it had once taken to itself.</p>
+
+<p>As a man Drayton would seem to have been an excellent type of the
+sturdy, clear-headed, but yet romantic and enthusiastic Englishman;
+gifted with much natural ability, sedulously increased by study; quietly
+humorous, self-restrained; and if temporarily soured by disappointment
+and the disjointed times, yet emerging at last into a greater serenity,
+a more unadulterated gaiety than had ever before characterized him. It
+is possible, but from his clear and sane balance of mind improbable,
+that many of his light later poems are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span> due to deliberate self-blinding
+and self-deception, a walking in enchanted lands of the mind.</p>
+
+<p>Of Drayton's three known portraits the earliest shows him at the age of
+thirty-six, and is now in the National Portrait Gallery. A look of
+quiet, speculative melancholy seems to pervade it; there is, as yet, no
+moroseness, no evidence of severe conflict with the world, no shadow of
+stress or of doubt. The second and best-known portrait shows us Drayton
+at the age of fifty, and was engraved by Hole, as a frontispiece to the
+poems of 1619. Here a notable change has come over the face; the mouth
+is hardened, and depressed at the corners through disappointment and
+disillusionment; the eyes are full of a pathos increased by the puzzled
+and perturbed uplift of the brows. Yet a stubbornness and tenacity of
+purpose invests the features and reminds us that Drayton is of the old
+and sound Elizabethan stock, 'on evil days though fallen.' Let it be
+remembered, that he was in 1613, when the portrait was taken, in more or
+less prosperous circumstances; it was the sad degeneracy, the meanness
+and feebleness of the generation around him, that chiefly depressed and
+embittered him. The final portrait, now in the Dulwich Gallery,
+represents the poet as a man of sixty-five; and is quite in keeping with
+the sunnier and calmer tone of his later poetry. It is the face of one
+who has not emerged unscathed from the world's conflict, but has
+attained to a certain calm, a measure of tranquillity, a portion of
+content, who has learnt the lesson that there is a soul of goodness in
+things evil. The Hole portrait shows him with long hair, small 'goatee'
+beard, and aquiline nose drawn up at the nostrils: while the National
+portrait shows a type of nose and beard intermediate between the Hole
+and the Dulwich pictures: the general contour of the face, though the
+forehead is broad enough, is long and oval. Drayton seems to have been
+tall and thin, and to have been very susceptible of cold, and therefore
+to have hated Winter and the North.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> He is said to have shared in the
+supper which caused Shakespeare's death; but his own verses<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> breathe
+the spirit of Milton's sonnet to Cyriack Skinner, rather than that of a
+devotee of Bacchus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He died in 1631, possibly on December 23, and was buried under the North
+wall of Westminster Abbey. Meres's<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> opinion of his character during
+his early life is as follows: 'As Aulus Persius Flaccus is reported
+among al writers to be of an honest life and vpright conuersation: so
+Michael Drayton, <i>quem totics honoris et amoris causa nomino</i>, among
+schollers, souldiours, Poets, and all sorts of people is helde for a man
+of uertuous disposition, honest conversation, and well gouerned cariage;
+which is almost miraculous among good wits in these declining and
+corrupt times, when there is nothing but rogery in villanous man, and
+when cheating and craftines is counted the cleanest wit, and soundest
+wisedome.'<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> Fuller also, in a similar strain, says, 'He was a pious
+poet, his conscience having the command of his fancy, very temperate in
+his life, slow of speech, and inoffensive in company.'</p>
+
+<p>In conclusion I have to thank Mr. H.M. Sanders, of Pembroke College,
+Oxford, for help and advice, and Professor Raleigh and Mr. R.W. Chapman
+for help and criticism while the volume was in the press. Above all, I
+am at every turn indebted to Professor Elton's invaluable <i>Michael
+Drayton</i>,<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> without which the work of any student of Drayton would be
+rendered, if not impossible, at least infinitely harder.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">CYRIL BRETT.</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Alton, Staffordshire.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Cf. Elegy viij, <i>To Henery Reynolds, Esquire</i>, p. 108.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Sir Aston Cokayne, in 1658, says that he went to Oxford,
+while Fleay asserts, without authority, that his university was probably
+Cambridge.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Cf. the motto of <i>Ideas Mirrour</i>, the allusions to
+<i>Ariosto</i> in the <i>Nymphidia</i>, p. 129; and above all, the <i>Heroical
+Epistles</i>; Dedic. of <i>Ep.</i> of <i>D.</i> of <i>Suffolk to Q. Margaret</i>: 'Sweet
+is the <i>French</i> Tongue, more sweet the <i>Italian</i>, but most sweet are
+they both, if spoken by your admired self.' Cf. <i>Surrey to Geraldine</i>,
+ll. 5 sqq., with Drayton's note.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Cf. Sonnet xij (ed. 1602), p. 42, ''Tis nine years now
+since first I lost my wit.' (This sonnet may, of course, occur in the
+supposed 1600 ed., which would fix an earlier date for Drayton's
+beginning of love.)</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Elegy ix, p. 113.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Cf. Morley's ed. of <i>Barons' Wars</i>, &amp;c. (1887), p. 6.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Cf. <i>E.H. Ep.</i> 'Mat. to K.J.,' 100 sqq., &amp;c.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Professor Courthope and others. There was some excuse for
+blunders before the publication of Professor Elton's book; and they have
+been made easier by an unfortunate misprint. Professor Courthope twice
+misprints the first line of the Love-Parting Sonnet, as 'Since there's
+no help, come let us <i>rise</i> and part', and, so printed, the line
+supports better the theory that the poem refers to a patroness and not
+to a mistress. Cf. Courthope, <i>Hist. Eng. Poetry</i>, iii. pp. 40 and 43.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Cf. <i>E. and Phoebe</i>, sub fin.; <i>Shep. Sir.</i> 145-8; <i>Ep. Hy.
+Reyn.</i> 79 sqq.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Those reprints which were really new <i>editions</i> are in
+italics.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> 1594 ed., Pref. Son. and nos. 12, 18, 28; 1599 ed., nos.
+3, 31, 46; 1602 ed., 12, 27, 31; and 1603 ed., 47.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Meres thought otherwise. Cf. <i>Palladis Tamia</i> (1598), 'As
+Accius, M. Atilius, and Milithus were called <i>Tragediographi</i>, because
+they writ tragedies: so may wee truly terme Michael Drayton
+<i>Tragaediographus</i> for his passionate penning the downfals of valiant
+Robert of Normandy, chast Matilda, and great Gaueston.' Cf. Barnefield,
+<i>Poems: in diuers humors</i> (ed. Arber, p. 119), 'And Drayton, whose
+wel-written Tragedies, | And Sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. |
+Thy learned name is equall with the rest; | Whose stately Numbers are so
+well addrest.'</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Cf. Meres, <i>Palladis Tamia</i> (1598), 'Michael Drayton doth
+imitate Ouid in his <i>England's Heroical Epistles</i>.'</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Cf. id., <i>ibid.</i>, 'As Lucan hath mournefully depainted the
+ciuil wars of Pompey and C&aelig;sar: so hath Daniel the ciuill wars of Yorke
+and Lancaster, and Drayton the civill wars of Edward the second and the
+Barons.'</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Cf. Elegy viij. 126-8.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Cf. Morley's ed., <i>Barons' Wars</i>, &amp;c., 1887, pp. 6-7.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Cf. Elron, pp. 83-93, and Whitaker, <i>M. Drayton as a
+Dramatist</i> (Public. Mod. Lang. Assoc. of America, vol. xviij. 3).</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Cf. <i>Nl.</i> ij. 127 sqq., p. 172.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Cf. Elegy ij. 20.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Cf. <i>Palladis Tamia</i>: 'Michael Drayton is now in penning,
+in English verse, a Poem called <i>Poly-olbion</i>, Geographicall &amp;
+Hydrographicall of all the forests, woods, mountaines, fountaines,
+riuers, lakes, flouds, bathes, &amp; springs that be in England.'</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Cf. <i>Amours</i> (1594), xx and xxiv.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Cf. Sonnet vj (1619 edition); which is a dignified summary
+of much that he says more coarsely in the <i>Moone-Calfe</i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Cf. Morley's ed. <i>Barons' Wars, &amp;c.</i>, p. 8.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Charles FitzGeoffrey, <i>Drake</i> (1596), 'golden-mouthed
+Drayton musical.' Guilpin, <i>Skialetheia</i> (1598), 'Drayton's condemned of
+some for imitation, But others say, 'tis the best poet's fashion ...
+Drayton's justly surnam'd golden-mouth'd.' Meres, <i>Palladis Tamia</i>
+(1598),' In Charles Fitz-Jefferies <i>Drake</i> Drayton is termed
+"golden-mouth'd" for the purity and pretiousnesse of his stile and
+phrase.'</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Cf. <i>E. H. E.</i>, pp. 90, 99 (ed. 1737); Elegy i; and <i>Ode
+written in the Peak</i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Elegy viij, ad init.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> <i>Palladis Tamia</i> (1598).</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Cf. <i>Returne from Parnassus</i>, i. 2 (1600) ed. Arb. p. 11.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> <i>Michael Drayton. A Critical Study</i>. Oliver Elton, M.A.
+London: A. Constable &amp; Co., 1905.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/01.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>SONNETS</h2>
+
+<h3>[from the Edition of 1594]</h3>
+
+<h4>
+To the deere Chyld of the Muses, and<br />
+<i>his euer kind</i> Mec&aelig;nas, <i>Ma.</i> Anthony<br />
+Cooke, Esquire<br />
+</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vovchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rymes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which long (dear friend) haue slept in sable night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, come abroad now in these glorious tymes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can hardly brook the purenes of the light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still you see their desteny is such,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in the world theyr fortune they must try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wearing your name, theyr gracious liuery.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet these mine owne: I wrong not other men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor trafique further then thys happy Clyme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor filch from <i>Portes</i>, nor from <i>Petrarchs</i> pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fault too common in this latter time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Diuine Syr Phillip, I auouch thy writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am no Pickpurse of anothers wit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Yours deuoted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">M. Drayton.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/01.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 1</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Reade heere (sweet Mayd) the story of my wo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drery abstracts of my endles cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my liues sorow enterlyned so;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smok'd with my sighes, and blotted with my teares:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sad memorials of my miseries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pend in the griefe of myne afflicted ghost;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My liues complaint in doleful Elegies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With so pure loue as tyme could neuer boast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Receaue the incense which I offer heere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By my strong fayth ascending to thy fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My zeale, my hope, my vowes, my praise, my prayer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soules oblation to thy sacred name:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which name my Muse to highest heauen shal raise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By chast desire, true loue, and vertues praise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 2</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My fayre, if thou wilt register my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Preserue my teares, and thou thy selfe shall proue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Note but my sighes, and thine eyes shal behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if by thee, my prayers may be enrold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They heauen and earth to pitty shall prouoke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looke thou into my breast, and thou shall see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chaste holy vowes for my soules sacrifice:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That soule (sweet Maide) which so hath honoured thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those eyes to my heart shining euer bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When darknes hath obscur'd each other light.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 3</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, for their vertues I desiered to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon the nest I set them forth, to proue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they were of the Eagles kinde or no:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they no sooner saw my Sunne appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that they came of this rare kinglie brood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now their plumes, full sumd with sweet desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shew their kinde began to clime the skies:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe what I could my Eaglets would aspire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus (my faire) my thoughts away be flowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And from my breast into thine eyes be gone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 4</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My faire, had I not erst adorned my Lute<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those sweet strings stolne from thy golden hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto the world had all my ioyes been mute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor had I learn'd to descant on my faire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had not mine eye seene thy Celestiall eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soule had ne'er felt thy Diuinitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor my Muse been the trumpet of thy fame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thy diuine perfections, by their skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This miracle on my poore Muse haue tried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, by inspiring, glorifide my quill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my verse thy selfe art deified:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That by thy fame all fame shall be suruiued.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 5</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Virgin once attending on that light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet those heauenly secrets once respected;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till thou alone, to pay the heauens their dutie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the Temple of thy sacred name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thine eyes kindling that Celestiall flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By those reflecting Sun-beames of thy beautie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Chastity that Vestall most diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attends that Lampe with eye which neuer sleepeth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The volumes of Religions lawes shee keepeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making thy breast that sacred reliques shryne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where blessed Angels, singing day and night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Praise him which made that fire, which lends that light.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 6</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In one whole world is but one Phoenix found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Phoenix thou, this Phoenix then alone:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thy rare plume thy kind is easly knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With heauenly colours dide, with natures wonder cround.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heape thine own vertues, seasoned by their sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On heauenly top of thy diuine desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with thy beautie set the same on fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So by thy death thy life shall be begunne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy selfe, thus burned in this sacred flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thine owne sweetnes al the heauens perfuming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stil increasing as thou art consuming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shalt spring againe from th' ashes of thy fame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mounting vp shall to the heauens ascend:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So maist thou liue, past world, past fame, past end.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 7</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Stay, stay, sweet Time; behold, or ere thou passe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From world to world, thou long hast sought to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wonder now wherein all wonders be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, looke thee, Time, in this Celesteall glasse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy youth past in this faire mirror see:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold worlds Beautie in her infancie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What shee was then, and thou, or ere shee was.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now passe on, Time: to after-worlds tell this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell truelie, Time, what in thy time hath beene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they may tel more worlds what Time hath seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heauen may ioy to think on past worlds blisse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heere make a Period, Time, and saie for mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She was the like that neuer was, nor neuer more shalbe.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 8</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vnto the World, to Learning, and to Heauen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three nines there are, to euerie one a nine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One number of the earth, the other both diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One wonder woman now makes three od numbers euen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nine orders, first, of Angels be in heauen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nine Muses doe with learning still frequent:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These with the Gods are euer resident.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nine worthy men vnto the world were giuen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Worthie one to these nine Worthies addeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my faire Muse one Muse vnto the nine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my good Angell, in my soule diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With one more order these nine orders gladdeth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angell, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Makes euery one of these three nines a ten.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 9</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beauty sometime, in all her glory crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passing by that cleere fountain of thine eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sun-shine face there chaunsing to espy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus, whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who then, yet liuing, deemd she had been dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet in death some hope of life espying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At her owne rare perfections so amazed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twixt ioy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shee, in her owne destiny diuining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Threw in herselfe, to saue herselfe by drowning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Well of Nectar, pau'd with pearle and gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 10</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft taking pen in hand, with words to cast my woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beginning to account the sum of all my cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I well perceiue my griefe innumerable growes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still in reckonings rise more millions of dispayres.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus, deuiding of my fatall howres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The payments of my loue I read, and reading crosse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in substracting set my sweets vnto my sowres;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' average of my ioyes directs me to my losse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus mine eyes, a debtor to thine eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who by extortion gaineth all theyr lookes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart hath payd such grieuous vsury,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all her wealth lyes in thy Beauties bookes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all is thine which hath been due to mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I a Banckrupt, quite vndone by thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 11</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I was apt, a scholler like to proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At my first Lesson in thy sacred name:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My consonants the next when I had done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My liquids then were liquid christall teares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That I can read a story of my woe.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 12</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some Atheist or vile Infidell in loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I doe speake of thy diuinitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May blaspheme thus, and say I flatter thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And onely write my skill in verse to proue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See myracles, ye vnbeleeuing! see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dumbe-born Muse made to expresse the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One by thy name, the other touching thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blind were mine eyes, till they were seene of thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mine eares deafe by thy fame healed be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My vices cur'd by vertues sprung from thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hopes reuiu'd, which long in graue had lyne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All vncleane thoughts, foule spirits, cast out in mee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By thy great power, and by strong fayth in thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 13</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cleere <i>Ankor</i>, on whose siluer-sanded shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soule-shrinde Saint, my faire <i>Idea</i>, lyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O blessed Brooke! whose milk-white Swans adore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The christall streame refined by her eyes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sweet Myrh-breathing <i>Zephyre</i> in the spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Nightingales in <i>Arden</i> sit and sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst those dainty dew-empearled flowers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say thus, fayre Brooke, when thou shall see thy Queene:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loe! heere thy Shepheard spent his wandring yeeres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in these shades (deer Nimphe) he oft hath been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fayre <i>Arden</i>, thou my <i>Tempe</i> art alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thou, sweet <i>Ankor</i>, art my <i>Helicon</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 14</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Looking into the glasse of my youths miseries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see the ugly face of my deformed cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That for my mis-spent youth the tears fel from my eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, in these teares, the mirror of these eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy fayrest youth and Beautie doe I see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imprinted in my teares by looking still on thee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus midst a thousand woes ten thousand joyes arise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in those joyes, the shadowes of my good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this fayre limned ground as white as snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Paynted the blackest Image of my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With murthering hands imbru'd in mine own blood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in this Image his darke clowdy eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My life, my youth, my loue, I heere Anotamize.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 15</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And but appoint me for her Tormentor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then for a Monarch will I honour thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart shall be the prison for my fayre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile fetter her in chaines of purest loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sighs shall stop the passage of the ayre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This punishment the pittilesse may moue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With teares out of the Channels of mine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She'st quench her thirst as duly as they fall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kinde words vnkindest meate I can deuise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sweet, my faire, my good, my best of all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile binde her then with my torne-tressed haire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And racke her with a thousand holy wishes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, on a place prepared for her there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile execute her with a thousand kisses.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus will I crucifie, my cruell shee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus Ile plague her which hath so plagued mee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 16</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vertues <i>Idea</i> in virginitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time is come deliuered she must be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where first my loue into the world was brought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnhappy borne, of all vnhappy day!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So luckles was my Babes nativity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Saturne</i> chiefe Lord of the Ascendant lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wandring Moone in earths triplicitie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, or by chaunce or heauens hie prouidence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Mother died, and by her Legacie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Fearing the stars presaging influence)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bequeath'd his wardship to my soueraignes eye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hunger-staruen, wanting lookes to liue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still empty gorg'd, with cares consumption pynde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Salt luke-warm teares shee for his drink did giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euer-more with sighes he supt and dynde:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus (poore Orphan) lying in distresse<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cryes in his pangs, God helpe the motherlesse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 17</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If euer wonder could report a wonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or euer ioy expresse what perfect ioy hath taught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then wonder, tongue, then ioy, might wel report a wonder.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could all conceite conclude, which past conceit admireth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or could mine eye but ayme her obiects past perfection,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were not Inuention stauld, treading Inuentions maze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst Loue (my Phoenix bird) in her owne flame is dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Inuention and my Muse, perfection and her loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Should teach the world to know the wonder that I proue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 18</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some, when in ryme they of their Loues doe tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With flames and lightning their exordiums paynt:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some inuocate the Gods, some spirits of Hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heauen, and earth doe with their woes acquaint.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Elizia</i> is too hie a seate for mee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wyll not come in <i>Stixe</i> or <i>Phlegiton</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Muses nice, the Furies cruell be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I lyke not <i>Limbo</i>, nor blacke <i>Acheron</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spightful <i>Erinnis</i> frights mee with her lookes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My manhood dares not with foule <i>Ate</i> mell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I quake to looke on <i>Hecats</i> charming bookes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I styll feare bugbeares in <i>Apollos</i> cell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I passe not for <i>Minerua</i> nor <i>Astr&aelig;a</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But euer call vpon diuine <i>Idea</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 19</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If those ten Regions, registred by Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By theyr ten Sibils haue the world controld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who prophecied of Christ or ere he came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of his blessed birth before fore-told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That man-god now, of whom they did diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This earth of those sweet Prophets hath bereft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And since the world to iudgement doth declyne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Instead of ten, one Sibil to vs left.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thys pure <i>Idea</i>, vertues right Idea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shee of whom <i>Merlin</i> long tyme did fore-tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Excelling her of <i>Delphos</i> or <i>Cum&aelig;a</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose lyfe doth saue a thousand soules from hell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That life (I meane) which doth Religion teach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And by example true repentance preach.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 20</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I find old Poets hylls and floods admire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, he doth wonder monster-breeding <i>Nyle</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another meruailes Sulphure <i>Aetnas</i> fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now broad-brymd <i>Indus</i>, then of <i>Pindus</i> height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Pelion</i> and <i>Ossa</i>, frosty <i>Caucase</i> old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Delian <i>Cynthus</i>, then <i>Olympus</i> weight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slow <i>Arrer</i>, franticke <i>Gallus</i>, <i>Cydnus</i> cold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some <i>Ganges</i>, <i>Ister</i>, and of <i>Tagus</i> tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some whir-poole <i>Po</i>, and slyding <i>Hypasis</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some old <i>Pernassus</i> where the Muses dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some <i>Helycon</i>, and some faire <i>Simois</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A, fooles! thinke I, had you <i>Idea</i> seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Poore Brookes and Banks had no such wonders beene.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 21</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Letters and lynes, we see, are soone defaced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mettles doe waste and fret with cankers rust;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Diamond shall once consume to dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Paper and yncke can paynt but naked words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write with blood of force offends the sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if with teares, I find them all too light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, sweetest shadow! how thou seru'st my turne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor whilst the world is neuer shall be done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May in his shadow my Loues story reade.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 22</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My hart, imprisoned in a hopeless Ile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shores beset with thousand secret spyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must passe by ayre, or else dye in exile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He framd him wings with feathers of his thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which by theyr nature learn'd to mount the skye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the same he practised to flye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till he himself thys Eagles art had taught.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus soring still, not looking once below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So neere thyne eyes celesteall sunne aspyred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That with the rayes his wafting pyneons fired:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus was the wanton cause of his owne woe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Downe fell he, in thy Beauties Ocean drenched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet there he burnes in fire thats neuer quenched.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 23</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wonder of Heauen, glasse of diuinitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rare beautie, Natures joy, perfections Mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The worke of that vnited Trinitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein each fayrest part excelleth other!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loues Mithridate, the purest of perfection,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Celestiall Image, Load-stone of desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soules delight, the sences true direction,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sunne of the world, thou hart reuyuing fire!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why should'st thou place thy Trophies in those eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which scorne the honor that is done to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or make my pen her name immortalize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in her pride sdaynes once to look on me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is thy heauen within her face to dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in thy heauen, there onely, is my hell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 24</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our floods-Queene, <i>Thames</i>, for shyps and Swans is crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stately <i>Seuerne</i> for her shores is praised,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The christall <i>Trent</i> for Foords and fishe renowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Auons</i> fame to <i>Albyons</i> Cliues is raysed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Carlegion Chester</i> vaunts her holy <i>Dee</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yorke</i> many wonders of her <i>Ouse</i> can tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Peake</i> her <i>Doue</i>, whose bancks so fertill bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Kent</i> will say her <i>Medway</i> doth excell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cotswoold commends her <i>Isis</i> and her <i>Tame</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Northern borders boast of <i>Tweeds</i> faire flood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Westerne parts extoll theyr Wilys fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And old <i>Legea</i> brags of <i>Danish</i> blood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Ardens</i> sweet <i>Ankor</i>, let thy glory be<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That fayre <i>Idea</i> shee doth liue by thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 25</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The glorious sunne went blushing to his bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my soules sunne, from her fayre Cabynet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her golden beames had now discouered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lightning the world, eclipsed by his set.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some muz'd to see the earth enuy the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which from her lyps exhald refined sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A world to see, yet how he ioyd to heare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dainty grasse make musicke with her feete.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my most meruaile was when from the skyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Comet-like, each starre aduanc'd her lyght,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though the heauen had now awak'd her eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And summond Angels to this blessed sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No clowde was seene, but christalline the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Laughing for ioy upon my louely fayre.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 26</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cupid, dumbe-Idoll, peeuish Saint of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more shalt thou nor Saint nor Idoll be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No God art thou, a Goddesse shee doth proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all thine honour shee hath robbed thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of purest gold, tempred with vertues fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The least able to kyll an hoste of Kings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy shafts be spent, and shee (to warre appointed)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hydes in those christall quiuers of her eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More Arrowes, with hart-piercing mettel poynted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then there be starres at midnight in the skyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With these she steales mens harts for her reliefe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet happy he thats robd of such a thiefe!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 27</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My Loue makes hote the fire whose heat is spent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The water moisture from my teares deriueth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my strong sighes the ayres weake force reuiueth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus loue, tears, sighes, maintaine each one his element.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fire, vnto my loue, compare a painted fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The water, to my teares as drops to Oceans be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ayre, vnto my sighes as Eagle to the flie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The passions of dispaire but ioyes to my desire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely my loue is in the fire ingraued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely my teares by Oceans may be gessed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely my sighes are by the ayre expressed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet fire, water, ayre, of nature not depriued.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whilst fire, water, ayre, twixt heauen and earth shal be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My loue, my teares, my sighes, extinguisht cannot be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 28</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some wits there be which lyke my method well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And say my verse runnes in a lofty vayne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some say, I haue a passing pleasing straine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some say that in my humour I excell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some who reach not the height of my conceite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They say, (as Poets doe) I vse to fayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in bare words paynt out my passions payne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus sundry men their sundry minds repeate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I passe not I how men affected be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor who commend, or discommend my verse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It pleaseth me if I my plaints rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my lynes if shee my loue may see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I proue my verse autentique still in thys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who writes my Mistres praise can neuer write amisse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 29</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O eyes! behold your happy <i>Hesperus</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That luckie Load-starre of eternall light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left as that sunne alone to comfort vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When our worlds sunne is vanisht out of sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O starre of starres! fayre Planet mildly moouing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Lampe of vertue! sun-bright, euer shyning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O mine eyes Comet! so admyr'd by louing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O cleerest day-starre! neuer more declyning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O our worlds wonder! crowne of heauen aboue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice happy be those eyes which may behold thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lou'd more then life, yet onely art his loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose glorious hand immortal hath enrold thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O blessed fayre! now vaile those heauenly eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That I may blesse mee at thy sweet arise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 30</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three sorts of serpents doe resemble thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weeping Crocodile; these vile pernicious three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who for my life in secret wait do'st lye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to my heart send'st poyson from thine eye:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus do I feele the paine, the cause yet cannot see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who with thy sweet aluring harmony<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, like a Tyrant, mak'st my griefe thy game.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Crocodile, who, when thou hast me slaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lament'st my death with teares of thy disdaine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 31</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sitting alone, loue bids me goe and write;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reason plucks backe, commaunding me to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boasting that shee doth still direct the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Els senceles loue could neuer once indite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue, growing angry, vexed at the spleene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scorning Reasons maymed Argument,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where shee with Loue conuersing hath not beene.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reason, reproched with this coy disdaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dispighteth Loue, and laugheth at her folly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Loue, contemning Reasons reason wholy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thought her in weight too light by many a graine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Reason, put back, doth out of sight remoue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Loue alone finds reason in my loue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 32</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those teares, which quench my hope, still kindle my desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those sighes, which coole my hart, are coles vnto my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disdayne, Ice to my life, is to my soule a fire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With teares, sighes, and disdaine, this contrary I proue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quenchles desire makes hope burne, dryes my teares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue heats my hart, my hart-heat my sighes warmeth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my soules fire my life disdaine out-weares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, hart, and life charmeth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hope becomes a friend to my desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart imbraceth Loue, Loue doth imbrace my hart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My life a Phoenix is in my soules fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From thence (they vow) they neuer will depart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, my hart, my life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With teares, sighes, and disdaine, shall haue immortal strife.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 33</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst thus mine eyes doe surfet with delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wofull hart, imprisond in my breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wishing to be trans-formd into my sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To looke on her by whom mine eyes are blest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But whilst mine eyes thus greedily doe gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold! their obiects ouer-soone depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And treading in this neuer-ending maze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wish now to be trans-formd into my hart:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart, surcharg'd with thoughts, sighes in abundance raise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My eyes, made dim with lookes, poure down a flood of tears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whilst my hart and eye enuy each others praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My dying lookes and thoughts are peiz'd in equall feares:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus, whilst sighes and teares together doe contende,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each one of these doth ayde vnto the other lende.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 34</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My fayre, looke from those turrets of thine eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the Ocean of a troubled minde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where my poor soule, the Barke of sorrow, lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left to the mercy of the waues and winde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See where she flotes, laden with purest loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which those fayre Ilands of thy lookes affoord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desiring yet a thousand deaths to proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then so to cast her Ballase ouerboard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See how her sayles be rent, her tacklings worne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Cable broke, her surest Anchor lost:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Marryners doe leaue her all forlorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet how shee bends towards that blessed Coast!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loe! where she drownes in stormes of thy displeasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose worthy prize should haue enricht thy treasure.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 35</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See, chaste <i>Diana</i>, where my harmles hart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rouz'd from my breast, his sure and safest layre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor chaste by hound, nor forc'd by Hunters arte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet see how right he comes vnto my fayre.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See how my Deere comes to thy Beauties stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there stands gazing on those darting eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst from theyr rayes, by <i>Cupids</i> skilfull hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into his hart the piercing Arrow flyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See how he lookes vpon his bleeding wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst thus he panteth for his latest breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, looking on thee, falls vpon the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smyling, as though he gloried in his death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wallowing in his blood, some lyfe yet laft;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His stone-cold lips doth kisse the blessed shaft.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 36</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweete, sleepe so arm'd with Beauties arrowes darting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepe in thy Beauty, Beauty in sleepe appeareth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepe lightning Beauty, Beauty sleepes, darknes cleereth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepes wonder Beauty, wonders to worlds imparting.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep watching Beauty, Beauty waking, sleepe guarding<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beauty in sleepe, sleepe in Beauty charmed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepes aged coldnes with Beauties fire warmed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepe with delight, Beauty with loue rewarding.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepe and Beauty, with equall forces stryuing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beauty her strength vnto sleepes weaknes lending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleepe with Beauty, Beauty with sleepe contending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet others force the others force reuiuing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And others foe the others foe imbrace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Myne eyes beheld thys conflict in thy face.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 37</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I euer loue where neuer hope appeares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my liues hope would die but for dyspaire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My neuer certaine ioy breeds euer-certaine feares.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vncertaine dread gyues wings vnto my hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet my hopes wings are loden so with feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they cannot ascend to my hopes spheare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet feare gyues them more then a heauenly scope.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet this large roome is bounded with dyspaire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So my loue is still fettered with vaine hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lyberty depriues him of hys scope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus am I imprisond in the ayre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, sweet Dispaire, awhile hold vp thy head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 38</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If chaste and pure deuotion of my youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or glorie of my Aprill-springing yeeres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnfained loue in naked simple truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand vowes, a thousand sighes and teares;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if a world of faithful seruice done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words, thoughts, and deeds deuoted to her honor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or eyes that haue beheld her as theyr sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With admiration euer looking on her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lyfe that neuer ioyd but in her loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A soule that euer hath ador'd her name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fayth that time nor fortune could not moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Muse that vnto heauen hath raised her fame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though these, nor these deserue to be imbraced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet, faire vnkinde, too good to be disgraced.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 39</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Die, die, my soule, and neuer taste of ioy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If sighes, nor teares, nor vowes, nor prayers can moue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If fayth and zeale be but esteemd a toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kindnes be vnkindnes in my loue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, with vnkindnes, Loue, reuenge thy wrong:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O sweet'st reuenge that ere the heauens gaue!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the swan record thy dying song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And praise her still to thy vntimely graue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So in loues death shall loues perfection proue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That loue diuine which I haue borne to you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By doome concealed to the heauens aboue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That yet the world vnworthy neuer knew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose pure <i>Idea</i> neuer tongue exprest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I feele, you know, the heauens can tell the rest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 40</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O thou vnkindest fayre! most fayrest shee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In thine eyes tryumph murthering my poore hart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now doe I sweare by heauens, before we part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My halfe-slaine hart shall take reuenge on thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy mother dyd her lyfe to death resigne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou an Angell art, and from aboue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy father was a man, that will I proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou a Goddesse art, and so diuine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus, if thou be not of humaine kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Bastard on both sides needes must thou be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Lawes allow no land to basterdy:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By natures Lawes we thee a bastard finde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then hence to heauen, vnkind, for thy childs part:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goe bastard goe, for sure of thence thou art.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 41</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rare of-spring of my thoughts, my dearest Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begot by fancy on sweet hope exhortiue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In whom all purenes with perfection stroue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurt in the Embryon makes my ioyes abhortiue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you, my sighes, Symtomas of my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dolefull Anthems of my endelesse care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lyke idle Ecchoes euer answering; so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mournfull accents of my loues dispayre.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou, Conceite, the shadow of my blisse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Declyning with the setting of my sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Springing with that, and fading straight with this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now hast thou end, and now thou wast begun:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now was thy pryme, and loe! is now thy waine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now wast thou borne, now in thy cradle slayne.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 42</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wounded with Arrowes from thy lightning eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My tongue in payne my harts counsels bewraying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My rebell thought for me in Ambushe lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my lyues foe her Chieftaine still betraying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Record my loue in Ocean waues (vnkind)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cast my desarts into the open ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commit my words vnto the fleeting wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cancell my name, and blot it with dispayre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So shall I bee as I had neuer beene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor my disgraces to the world be seene.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 43</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my hart is the very Den of horror,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all his torments and infernall terror?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Myne eyes want teares thus to bewayle my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brayne is dry with weeping all too long;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sighes be spent with griefe and sighing so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I want words for to expresse my wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still, distracted in loues lunacy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bedlam like thus rauing in my griefe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now rayle vpon her hayre, now on her eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now call her Goddesse, then I call her thiefe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now I deny her, then I doe confesse her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now I doe curse her, then againe I blesse her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 44</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My words the hammers fashioning my desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My breast the forge, including all the heate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sighes the bellowes which the flame increaseth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filling mine eares with noise and nightly groning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toyling with paine my labour neuer ceaseth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In greeuous passions my woes styll bemoning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Myne eyes with teares against the fire stryuing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With scorching gleed my hart to cynders turneth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with those drops the coles againe reuyuing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still more and more vnto my torment burneth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With <i>Sisiphus</i> thus doe I role the stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And turne the wheele with damned <i>Ixion</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 45</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still to prolong my long tyme lookt-for morrow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou Sable shadow, Image of dispayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Portraite of hell, the ayres black mourning weed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Recorder of reuenge, remembrancer of care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow and the vaile of euery sinfull deed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death like to thee, so lyue thou still in death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The graue of ioy, prison of dayes delight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let heauens withdraw their sweet Ambrozian breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Moone nor stars lend thee their shining light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For thou alone renew'st that olde desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which still torments me in dayes burning fire.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 46</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweete secrecie, what tongue can tell thy worth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What mortall pen sufficiently can prayse thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What curious Pensill serues to lim thee forth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Muse hath power aboue thy height to raise thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong locke of kindnesse, Closet of loues store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Harts Methridate, the soules preseruatiue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O vertue! which all vertues doe adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cheefe good, from whom all good things wee deriue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O rare effect! true bond of friendships measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conceite of Angels, which all wisdom teachest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, richest Casket of all heauenly treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In secret silence which such wonders preachest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O purest mirror! wherein men may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The liuely Image of Diuinitie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 47</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The golden Sunne vpon his fiery wheeles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The horned Ram doth in his course awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of iust length our night and day doth make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flinging the Fishes backward with his heeles:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to the Tropicke takes his full Careere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trotting his sun-steeds till the Palfrays sweat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bayting the Lyon in his furious heat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Virgins smyles doe sound his sweet reteere.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my faire Planet, who directs me still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnkindly such distemperature doth bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes Summer Winter, Autumne in the Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crossing sweet nature by vnruly will.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such is the sunne who guides my youthfull season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose thwarting course depriues the world of reason.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 48</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Who list to praise the dayes delicious lyght,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let him compare it to her heauenly eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun-beames to the lustre of her sight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So may the learned like the similie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mornings Crimson to her lyps alike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweet of <i>Eden</i> to her breathes perfume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fayre <i>Elizia</i> to her fayrer cheeke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto her veynes the onely Ph&#339;nix plume.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Angels tresses to her tressed hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Galixia</i> to her more then white.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praysing the fayrest, compare it to my faire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still naming her in naming all delight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So may he grace all these in her alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Superlatiue in all comparison.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 49</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Define my loue, and tell the ioyes of heauen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expresse my woes, and shew the paynes of hell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Declare what fate vnlucky starres haue giuen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aske a world vpon my life to dwell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make knowne that fayth vnkindnes could not moue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compare my worth with others base desert:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold the Clowdes which haue eclips'd my sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And view the crosses which my course doth let;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell mee, if euer since the world begunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So faire a Morning had so foule a set?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And, by all meanes, let black vnkindnes proue<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The patience of so rare, diuine a loue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Amour 50</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I first ended, then I first began;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The more I trauell, further from my rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pyned with hunger, rysing from a feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mee thinks I flee, yet want I legs to goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wise in conceite, in acte a very sot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rauisht with ioy amidst a hell of woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What most I seeme, that surest I am not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I build my hopes a world aboue the skye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet with a Mole I creepe into the earth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In plenty am I staru'd with penury,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet I serfet in the greatest dearth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I haue, I want, dispayre, and yet desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Burn'd in a Sea of Ice, and drown'd amidst a fire.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Amour 51</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Goe you, my lynes, Embassadours of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my harts tribute to her conquering eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From whence, if you one tear of pitty moue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all my woes, that onely shall suffise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you <i>Minerua</i> in the sunne behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At her perfections stand you then and gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where in the compasse of a Marygold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Meridianis</i> sits within a maze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let Inuention of her beauty vaunt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Dorus</i> sings his sweet Pamelas loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell the Gods, <i>Mars</i> is predominant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seated with <i>Sol</i>, and weares Mineruas gloue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And tell the world, that in the world there is<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A heauen on earth, on earth no heauen but this.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h4>FINIS.</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/02.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+<h2>[from the Edition of 1599]</h2>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 1</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The worlds faire Rose, and <i>Henries</i> frosty fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Iohns tyrannie; and chast <i>Matilda's</i> wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th'inraged Queene, and furious <i>Mortimer</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scourge of Fraunce, and his chast loue I song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deposed <i>Richard</i>, <i>Isabell</i> exil'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gallant <i>Tudor</i>, and fayre <i>Katherine</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Duke <i>Humfrey</i>, and old <i>Cobhams</i> haplesse child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Couragious <i>Pole</i>, and that braue spiritfull Queene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Edward</i>, and that delicious London Dame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Brandon</i>, and that rich dowager of Fraunce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Surrey</i>, with his fayre paragon of fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Dudleys</i> mishap, and vertuous <i>Grays</i> mischance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their seuerall loues since I before haue showne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now giue me leaue at last to sing mine owne.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 2</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Reader of his Poems</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Into these loues who but for passion lookes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this first sight, here let him lay them by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seeke elsewhere in turning other bookes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which better may his labour satisfie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No far-fetch'd sigh shall euer wound my brest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue from mine eye, a teare shall neuer wring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor in ah-mees my whyning Sonets drest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(A Libertine) fantasticklie I sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My verse is the true image of my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euer in motion, still desiring change,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To choyce of all varietie inclin'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in all humors sportiuely I range;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My actiue Muse is of the worlds right straine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That cannot long one fashion entertaine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 3</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many there be excelling in this kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose well trick'd rimes with all inuention swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let each commend as best shall like his minde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some <i>Sidney</i>, <i>Constable</i>, some <i>Daniell</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thus theyr names familiarly I sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let none think them disparaged to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore men with reuerence may speake of a King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so may these be spoken of by mee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wanton verse nere keepes one certaine stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now, at hand; then, seekes inuention far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with each little motion runnes astray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wilde, madding, iocond, and irreguler;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like me that lust, my honest merry rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor care for Criticke, nor regard the times.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 5</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My hart was slaine, and none but you and I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who should I thinke the murder should commit?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since but your selfe, there was no creature by<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But onely I, guiltlesse of murth'ring it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It slew it selfe; the verdict on the view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe quit the dead and me not accessarie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well, well, I feare it will be prou'd by you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The euidence so great a proofe doth carry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But O, see, see, we need enquire no further,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon your lips the scarlet drops are found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in your eye, the boy that did the murther,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your cheekes yet pale since first they gaue the wound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By this, I see, how euer things be past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet heauen will still haue murther out at last.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 8</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nothing but no and I, and I and no,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How falls it out so strangely you reply?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tell yee (Faire) Ile not be aunswered so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With this affirming no, denying I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I say I loue, you slightly aunswer I?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I say you loue, you pule me out a no;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I say I die, you eccho me with I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saue me I cry, you sigh me out a no:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must woe and I, haue naught but no and I?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No, I am I, If I no more can haue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aunswer no more, with silence make reply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let me take my selfe what I doe craue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let no and I, with I and you be so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then aunswer no, and I, and I, and no.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 9</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue once would daunce within my Mistres eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wanting musique fitting for the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swore that I should the Instrument supply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sodainly presents me with her face:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straightwayes my pulse playes liuely in my vaines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours Straynes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">True diapazon in distincted sound:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My panting hart the treble makes the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And descants finely on the musiques ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whilst the proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 10</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue in an humor played the prodigall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bids my sences to a solemne feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet more to grace the company withall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inuites my heart to be the chiefest guest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No other drinke would serue this gluttons turne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But precious teares distilling from mine eyne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which with my sighs this Epicure doth burne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quaffing carouses in this costly wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, in his cups or'come with foule excesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begins to play a swaggering Ruffins part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the banquet, in his drunkennes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slew my deare friend, his kind and truest hart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A gentle warning, friends, thus may you see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What 'tis to keepe a drunkard company.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 11</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Moone</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ph&aelig;be looke downe, and here behold in mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The elements within thy sphere inclosed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How kindly Nature plac'd them vnder thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my world, see how they are disposed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hope is earth, the lowest, cold and dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grosser mother of deepe melancholie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Water my teares, coold with humidity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wan, flegmatick, inclind by nature wholie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sighs, the ayre, hote, moyst, ascending hier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Subtile of sanguine, dy'de in my harts dolor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My thoughts, they be the element of fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hote, dry, and piercing, still inclind to choller,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thine eye the Orbe vnto all these, from whence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Proceeds th' effects of powerfull influence.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 12</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To nothing fitter can I thee compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to the sonne of some rich penyfather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hauing now brought on his end with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaues to his son all he had heap'd together;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This newe rich nouice, lauish of his chest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To one man giues, and on another spends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then here he ryots, yet amongst the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haps to lend some to one true honest friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy gifts thou in obscuritie doost wast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">False friends thy kindnes, borne but to deceiue thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy loue, that is on the unworthy plac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time hath thy beauty, which with age will leaue thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Onely that little which to me was lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I giue thee back, when all the rest is spent.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 13</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You not alone, when you are still alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O God from you that I could priuate be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since you one were, I neuer since was one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since you in me, my selfe since out of me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Transported from my selfe into your beeing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though either distant, present yet to eyther,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Senceles with too much ioy, each other seeing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And onely absent when we are together.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giue me my selfe, and take your selfe againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deuise some means but how I may forsake you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So much is mine that doth with you remaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That taking what is mine, with me I take you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You doe bewitch me, O that I could flie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From my selfe you, or from your owne selfe I.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 14</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Soule</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That learned Father which so firmly proues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soule of man immortall and diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And doth the seuerall offices define,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Anima.</i> Giues her that name as shee the body moues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Amor.</i> Then is she loue imbracing Charitie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Animus.</i> Mouing a will in vs, it is the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mens.</i> Retayning knowledge, still the same in kind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Memoria.</i> As intelectuall it is the memorie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ratio.</i> In judging, Reason onely is her name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Sensus.</i> In speedy apprehension it is sence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Conscientia.</i> In right or wrong, they call her conscience.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Spiritus.</i> The spirit, when it to Godward doth inflame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These of the soule the seuerall functions bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which my hart lightned by thy loue doth see.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 21</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was a time, you told me that you would,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now againe you will the same deny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If it might please you, would to God you could;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What will you hate? nay, that you will not neither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or will you loue me, and yet hate me to?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see your craft, now I perceaue your drift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all this while, I was mistaken there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your loue and hate is this, I now doe proue you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 22</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An euill spirit your beauty haunts me still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where-with (alas) I haue been long possest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which ceaseth not to tempt me vnto ill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor giues me once but one pore minutes rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In me it speakes, whether I sleepe or wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when by meanes to driue it out I try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With greater torments then it me doth take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tortures me in most extreamity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before my face, it layes all my dispaires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hasts me on vnto a suddaine death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now tempting me, to drown my selfe in teares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then in sighing to giue vp my breath:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus am I still prouok'd to euery euill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By this good wicked spirit, sweet Angel deuill.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 23</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Spheares</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou which do'st guide this little world of loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy planets mansions heere thou mayst behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brow the spheare where <i>Saturne</i> still doth moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrinkled with cares: and withered, dry, and cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mine eyes the Orbe where <i>Iupiter</i> doth trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which gently smile because they looke on thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mars</i> in my swarty visage takes his place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made leane with loue, where furious conflicts bee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Sol</i> in my breast with his hote scorching flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my hart alone doth <i>Venus</i> raigne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mercury</i> my hands the Organs of thy fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Luna</i> glides in my fantastick braine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The starry heauen thy prayse by me exprest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou the first moouer, guiding all the rest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 24</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love banish'd heauen, in earth was held in scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wandring abroad in neede and beggery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wanting friends though of a Goddesse borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet crau'd the almes of such as passed by.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I like a man, deuout and charitable;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clothed the naked, lodg'd this wandring guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sighs and teares still furnishing his table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With what might make the miserable blest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this vngratefull for my good desart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Entic'd my thoughts against me to conspire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who gaue consent to steale away my hart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And set my breast his lodging on a fire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Well, well, my friends, when beggers grow thus bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No meruaile then though charity grow cold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 25</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O why should nature nigardly restraine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sotherne Nations relish not our tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else should my lines glide on the waues of Rhene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crowne the Pirens with my liuing song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But bounded thus to Scotland get you forth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thence take you wing vnto the Orcades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There let my verse get glory in the North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making my sighs to thawe the frozen seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let the Bards within the Irish Ile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whom my Muse with fiery wings shall passe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call backe the stifneckd rebels from exile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And molifie the slaughtering Galliglasse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And when my flowing numbers they rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let Wolues and Bears be charmed with my verse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 27</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I gaue my faith to Loue, Loue his to mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hee and I, sworne brothers should remaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus fayth receiu'd, fayth giuen back againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who would imagine bond more sure could be?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue flies to her, yet holds he my fayth taken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus from my vertue raiseth my offence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making me guilty by mine innocence;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And surer bond by beeing so forsaken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He makes her aske what I before had vow'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giuing her that, which he had giuen me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bound by him, and he by her made free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who euer so hard breach of fayth alow'd?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Speake you that should of right and wrong discusse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was right ere wrong'd, or wrong ere righted thus?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 29</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Sences</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When conquering loue did first my hart assaile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto mine ayde I summond euery sence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doubting if that proude tyrant should preuaile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart should suffer for mine eyes offence;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he with beauty, first corrupted sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hearing bryb'd with her tongues harmony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My taste, by her sweet lips drawne with delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when my touching came to play his part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The King of sences, greater than the rest)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That yeelds loue up the keyes vnto my hart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tells the other how they should be blest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus by those of whom I hop'd for ayde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To cruell Loue my soule was first betrayd.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 30</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Vestalls</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those Priests, which first the Vestall fire begun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which might be borrowed from no earthly flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deuisd a vessell to receiue the sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beeing stedfastly opposed to the same;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where with sweet wood laid curiously by Art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereon the sunne might by reflection beate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Receiuing strength from euery secret part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fuell kindled with celestiall heate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy blessed eyes, the sunne which lights this fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My holy thoughts, they be the Vestall flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The precious odors be my chast desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My breast the fuell which includes the same;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou art my Vesta, thou my Goddesse art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy hollowed Temple, onely is my hart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 31</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Me thinks I see some crooked Mimick ieere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And taxe my Muse with this fantastick grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turning my papers, asks what haue we heere?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making withall, some filthy anticke face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I feare no censure, nor what thou canst say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor shall my spirit one iote of vigor lose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think'st thou my wit shall keepe the pack-horse way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euery dudgen low inuention goes?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Sonnets thus in bundles are imprest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euery drudge doth dull our satiate eare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think'st thou my loue, shall in those rags be drest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euery dowdie, euery trull doth weare?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vnto my pitch no common iudgement flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I scorne all earthlie dung-bred scarabies.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 34</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To Admiration</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That knowing more then euer hath beene taught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I am onely staru'd in my desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ayming at things exceeding all perfection,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wisedoms selfe, to minister direction,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I am onely staru'd in my desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though my conceite I farther seeme to bend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then possibly inuention can extend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet am onely staru'd in my desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If thou wilt wonder, heers the wonder loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That this to mee doth yet no wonder proue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 43</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst thus my pen striues to eternize thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Age rules my lines with wrincles in my face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where in the Map of all my misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is modeld out the world of my disgrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst in despight of tyrannizing times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Medea</i> like I make thee young againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And murther'st vertue with thy coy disdaine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though in youth, my youth vntimely perrish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keepe thee from obliuion and the graue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ensuing ages yet my rimes shall cherrish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where I entomb'd, my better part shall saue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And though this earthly body fade and die<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My name shall mount vpon eternitie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 44</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Muses which sadly sit about my chayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drownd in the teares extorted by my lines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With heauy sighs whilst thus I breake the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Paynting my passions in these sad dissignes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since she disdaines to blesse my happy verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The strong built Trophies to her liuing fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euer hence-forth my bosome be your hearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein the world shal now entombe her name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enclose my musick you poor sencelesse walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sith she is deafe and will not heare my mones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soften your selues with euery teare that falls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst I like <i>Orpheus</i> sing to trees and stones:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which with my plaints seeme yet with pitty moued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kinder then she who I so long haue loued.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 45</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 55</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Truce gentle loue, a parly now I craue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thinks, 'tis long since first these wars begun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor thou nor I, the better yet can haue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bad is the match where neither party wone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I offer free conditions of faire peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hart for hostage, that it shall remaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Discharge our forces heere, let malice cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So for my pledge, thou giue me pledge againe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still thirsting for subuersion of my state;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I send defiance, since if ouerthrowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine owne.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 56</h4>
+
+<h4><i>A Consonet</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eyes with your teares, blind if you bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why haue these teares such eyes to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore eyes, if yours teares cannot moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My teares, eyes, then must mone my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then eyes, since you haue lost your sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weepe still, and teares shall lend you light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till both desolu'd, and both want might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No, no, cleere eyes, you are not blind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in my teares discerne my mind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Teares be the language which you speake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which my hart wanting, yet must breake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make my sighs to get them tongs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet more then this to her belongs.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonet 57</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To</i> Lucie <i>Countesse of Bedford</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great Lady, essence of my chiefest good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adorn'd with gifts, enobled by thy blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which by discent true vertue do'st inherit:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That vertue which no fortune can depriue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose royall minds with equall motion striue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which most in honour shall excell the other;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto thy fame my Muse herself shall taske,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And but thy selfe, no subject will I aske,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sweet Lady yet, grace this poore Muse of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose faith, whose zeale, whose life, whose all is thine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonet 58</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Lady</i> Anne Harington</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Madam, my words cannot expresse my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When your desarts all seuerally I find;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this attempt of me doe claim their due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your gracious kindnes that doth claime my hart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of me your vertues each doe claime a part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaue me thus the least part of mine owne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What should commend your modesty and wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is by your wit and modesty commended<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And standeth dumbe, in much admiring it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where it should begin, it there is ended;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Returning this your prayses onely due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And to your selfe say you are onely you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+<h2>[from the Edition of 1602]</h2>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 12</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To Lunacie</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As other men, so I my selfe doe muse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why in this sort I wrest Inuention so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And why these giddy metaphors I vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leauing the path the greater part doe goe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will resolue you; I am lunaticke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euer this in mad men you shall finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What they last thought on when the braine grew sick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In most distraction keepe that still in minde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus talking idely in this bedlam fit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reason and I, (you must conceiue) are twaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis nine yeeres, now, since first I lost my wit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beare with me, then, though troubled be my braine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With diet and correction, men distraught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Not too farre past) may to their wits be brought.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 17</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If hee from heauen that filch'd that liuing fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Condemn'd by <i>Ioue</i> to endlesse torment be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I greatly meruaile how you still goe free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That farre beyond <i>Promethius</i> did aspire?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fire he stole, although of heauenly kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which from aboue he craftily did take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of liueles clods vs liuing men to make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Againe bestow'd in temper of the mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you broke in to heauens immortall store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where vertue, honour, wit, and beautie lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which taking thence, you haue escap'd away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet stand as free as ere you did before.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But old <i>Promethius</i> punish'd for his rape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus poore theeues suffer, when the greater scape.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 25</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To Folly</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With fooles and children good discretion beares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then honest people beare with Loue and me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor older yet, nor wiser made by yeeres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the rest of fooles and children be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loues still a Baby, playes with gaudes and toyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like a wanton sports with euery feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Idiots still are running after boyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then fooles and children fitt'st to goe together;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He still as young as when he first was borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No wiser I, then when as young as he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You that behold vs, laugh vs not to scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giue Nature thanks, you are not such as we;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some wise in showe, more fooles in deede, then they.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 27</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I heare some say, this man is not in loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because I loosely tryfle in this sort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You now suppose me, all this time in sport,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And please your selfe with this conceit the while.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You shallow censures; sometime see you not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In greatest perills some men pleasant be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fame by death is onely to be got,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They resolute, so stands the case with me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where other men, in depth of passion cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 31</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thus appose my force of reason wholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though I giue more, then well affords my state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which expense the most suppose me vaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether are these deccaued then, or I?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In euery thing I hold this maxim still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The circumstance doth make it good or ill.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 41</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When now the night doth summon all to sleepe?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thinks this time becommeth louers best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night was ordained together friends to keepe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How happy are all other liuing things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quiet euening yet together brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each returnes vnto his loue at night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O thou that art so curteous vnto all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euery creature to his kinde doost call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Well could I wish it would be euer day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If when night comes you bid me goe away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 58</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To Prouerbe</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As Loue and I, late harbour'd in one Inne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Prouerbs thus each other intertaine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>In loue there is no lacke, thus I beginne?</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Faire words makes fooles, replieth he againe?</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That spares to speake, doth spare to speed (quoth I)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As well (saith he) too forward as too slow.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Fortune assists the boldest, I replie?</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>A hasty man (quoth he) nere wanted woe.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Labour is light, where loue (quoth I) doth pay,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>(Saith he) light burthens heauy, if farre borne?</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>(Quoth I) the maine lost, cast the by away:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>You haue spunne a faire thred, he replies in scorne</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hauing thus a while each other thwarted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fooles as we met, so fooles againe we parted.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 63</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the high and mighty Prince, James, King of Scots</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not thy graue Counsells, nor thy Subiects loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Others in vaine doe but historifie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When thine owne glorie from thy selfe doth spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though thou did'st, all meaner prayses scorne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Kings a Poet, and the Poets King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They Princes, but thou Prophets do'st adorne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst others by their Empires are renown'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with thy Laurell, thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That they whose pens, euen life to Kings doe giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In thee a King, shall seeke them selues to liue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet <i>66</i></h4>
+
+<h4><i>To the Lady</i> L.S.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright starre of Beauty, on whose eyelids sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Goddesses of memory and wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which in due order take their seuerall places,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In whose deare bosome, sweet delicious loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Layes downe his quiuer, that he once did beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since he that blessed Paradice did proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let others striue to entertaine with words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soule is of another temper made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deuouring time my faith, shall not inuade:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still let my praise be honoured thus by you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/03.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+<h2>[from the Edition of 1605]</h2>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 43</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why should your faire eyes with such soueraine grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dispearse their raies on euery vulgar spirit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst I in darknes in the selfesame place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Get not one glance to recompence my merit:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So doth the plow-man gaze the wandring starre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And onely rests contented with the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That neuer learnd what constellations are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the bent of his vnknowing sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O why should beautie (custome to obey)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To their grosse sence applie her selfe so ill?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would God I were as ignorant as they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I am made vnhappy by my skill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Onely compeld on this poore good to boast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heauens are not kind to them that know them most.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 46</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Plain-path'd Experience the vnlearneds guide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her simple followers euidently shewes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometime what schoolemen scarcely can decide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knowes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In making triall of a murther wrought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the vile actor of the heinous deede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neere the dead bodie happily be brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft hath been prou'd the breathlesse coarse will bleed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She comming neere that my poore hart hath slaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long since departed, (to the world no more)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The auncient wounds no longer can containe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fall to bleeding as they did before:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But what of this? should she to death be led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It furthers iustice, but helpes not the dead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 47</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In pride of wit, when high desire of fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaue life and courage to my labouring pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And first the sound and vertue of my name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Won grace and credit in the eares of men:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those the thronged Theaters that presse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I in the circuite for the Lawrell stroue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the full praise I freely must confesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heate of blood a modest minde might moue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With showts and daps at euerie little pawse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the prowd round on euerie side hath rung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadly I sit vnmou'd with the applawse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though to me it nothing did belong:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No publique glorie vainely I pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The praise I striue, is to eternize you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 50</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As in some Countries far remote from hence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wretched creature destined to die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hauing the iudgement due to his offence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Surgeons begg'd, their Art on him to trie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which on the liuing worke without remorce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First make incision on each maistring vaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then stanch the bleeding, then transperce the coarse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with their balmes recure the wounds againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then poison and with Phisicke him restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not that they feare the hopelesse man to kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But their experience to encrease the more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euen so my Mistresse works vpon my ill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By curing me, and killing me each howre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Onely to shew her beauties soueraigne powre.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 51</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calling to minde since first my loue begunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' incertaine times oft varying in their course,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How things still vnexpectedly haue runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As please the fates, by their resistlesse force:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lastly, mine eyes amazedly haue scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Essex</i> great fall, <i>Tyrone</i> his peace to gaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quiet end of that long-liuing Queene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Kings faire entrance, and our peace with Spaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We and the Dutch at length our selues to seuer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus the world doth, and euermore shall reele,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet to my goddesse am I constant euer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How ere blind fortune turne her giddy wheele:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though heauen and earth proue both to mee vntrue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet am I still inuiolate to you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Sonnet 57</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You best discern'd of my interior eies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet your graces outwardly diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too riche a relique for so poore a shrine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You in whome Nature chose herselfe to view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she her owne perfection would admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bestowing all her excellence on you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At whose pure eies Loue lights his halowed fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euen as a man that in some traunce hath scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than his wondring vttrance can vnfolde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That rapt in spirite in better worlds hath beene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So must your praise distractedly be tolde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Most of all short, when I should shew you most,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In your perfections altogether lost.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Sonnet 58</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In former times, such as had store of coyne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In warres at home, or when for conquests bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For feare that some their treasures should purloyne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaue it to keepe to spirites within the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to attend it, them so strongly tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till they return'd, home when they neuer came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as by art to get the same haue tride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the strong spirits by no means get the same,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neerer you come, that further flies away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Striuing to holde it strongly in the deepe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euen as this spirit, so she alone doth play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those rich Beauties heauen giues her to keepe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pitty so left, to coldenes of her blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not to auaile her, nor do others good.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>
+<i>To Sir Walter Aston, Knight of the honourable<br />
+order of the Bath, and my most<br />
+worthy Patron</i><br />
+</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I will not striue m' inuention to inforce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With needlesse words your eyes to entertaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T' obserue the formall ordinarie course<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euerie one so vulgarly doth faine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our interchanged and deliberate choise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is with more firme and true election sorted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then stands in censure of the common voice.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That with light humor fondly is transported:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor take I patterne of another's praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then what my pen may constantly avow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor walke more publique nor obscurer waies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then vertue bids, and iudgement will allow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So shall my tone, and best endeuours serue you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And still shall studie, still so to deserue you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12"><i>Michaell Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+<h2>[from the Edition of 1619]</h2>
+
+<h4>1</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like an aduenturous Sea-farer am I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hath some long and dang'rous Voyage beene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And call'd to tell of his Discouerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How farre he sayl'd, what Countries he had seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proceeding from the Port whence he put forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shewes by his Compasse, how his Course he steer'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When East, when West, when South, and when by North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As how the Pole to eu'ry place was rear'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Capes he doubled, of what Continent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gulphes and Straits, that strangely he had past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where most becalm'd, wherewith foule Weather spent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on what Rocks in perill to be cast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus in my Loue, Time calls me to relate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My tedious Trauels, and oft-varying Fate.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>6</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How many paltry, foolish, painted things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That now in Coaches trouble eu'ry Street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere they be well wrap'd in their winding Sheet?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where I to thee Eternitie shall giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When nothing else remayneth of these dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Queenes hereafter shall be glad to liue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon the Almes of thy superfluous prayse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Virgins and Matrons reading these my Rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be so much delighted with thy story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they shall grieve, they liu'd not in these Times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To haue seene thee, their Sexes onely glory:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So shalt thou flye aboue the vulgar Throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still to suruiue in my immortall Song.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+<h4>8</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There's nothing grieues me, but that Age should haste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in my dayes I may not see thee old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That where those two deare sparkling Eyes are plac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely two Loope-holes, then I might behold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That louely, arched, yuorie, pollish'd Brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Defac'd with Wrinkles, that I might but see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy daintie Hayre, so curl'd, and crisped now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like grizzled Mosse vpon some aged Tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Cheeke, now flush with Roses, sunke, and leane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Lips, with age, as any Wafer thinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Pearly teeth out of thy head so cleane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when thou feed'st, thy Nose shall touch thy Chinne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These Lines that now thou scorn'st, which should delight thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then would I make thee read, but to despight thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>15</h4>
+
+<h4><i>His Remedie for Loue</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since to obtaine thee, nothing me will sted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I haue a Med'cine that shall cure my Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The powder of her Heart dry'd, when she is dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Gold nor Honour ne'r had power to moue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mix'd with her Teares, that ne'r her true-Loue crost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor at Fifteene ne'r long'd to be a Bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boyl'd with her Sighes, in giuing vp the Ghost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That for her late deceased Husband dy'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the same then let a Woman breathe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That being chid, did neuer word replie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With one thrice-marry'd's Pray'rs, that did bequeath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Legacie to stale Virginitie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If this Receit haue not the pow'r to winne me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Little Ile say, but thinke the Deuill's in me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+<h4>21</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ransacke all <span class="smcap">Apollo's</span> golden Treasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>27</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is not Loue here, as 'tis in other Clymes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And diff'reth it, as doe the seu'rall Nations?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or hath it lost the Vertue, with the Times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or in this land alt'reth with the Fashions?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or haue our Passions lesser pow'r then theirs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who had lesse Art them liuely to expresse?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Nature growne lesse pow'rfull in their Heires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or in our Fathers did the more transgresse?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am sure my Sighes come from a Heart as true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As any Mans, that Memory can boast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my Respects and Seruices to you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Equall with his, that loues his Mistris most:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or Nature must be partiall in my Cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or onely you doe violate her Lawes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+<h4>36</h4>
+
+<h4><i>Cupid coniured</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast been so slacke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wound her Heart, whose Eyes haue wounded me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus to my aid, I lastly coniure thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Hellish <i>Styx</i> (by which the <span class="smcap">Thund'rer</span> sweares)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thy faire Mothers vnauoided Power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By <span class="smcap">Hecat's</span> Names, by <span class="smcap">Proserpine's</span> sad Teares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she was rapt to the infernall Bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thine own loued <span class="smcap">Psyches</span>, by the Fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spent on thine Altars, flaming vp to Heau'n;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By all the Louers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By all the Wounds that euer thou hast giu'n;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I coniure thee by all that I haue nam'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To make her loue, or <span class="smcap">Cupid</span> be thou damn'd.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>48</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cupid, I hate thee, which I'de haue thee know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A naked Starueling euer may'st thou be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore Rogue, goe pawne thy <i>Fascia</i> and thy Bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For some few Ragges, wherewith to couer thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if thou'lt not, thy Archerie forbeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some base Rustick doe thy selfe preferre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when Corne's sowne, or growne into the Eare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Practise thy Quiuer, and turne Crow-keeper;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or being Blind (as fittest for the Trade)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goe hyre thy selfe some bungling Harpers Boy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They that are blind, are Minstrels often made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So may'st thou liue, to thy faire Mothers Ioy:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That whilst with <span class="smcap">Mars</span> she holdeth her old way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou, her Blind Sonne, may'st sit by them, and play.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h4>52</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What dost thou meane to Cheate me of my Heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To take all Mine, and giue me none againe?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or haue thine Eyes such Magike, or that Art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That what They get, They euer doe retaine?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Play not the Tyrant, but take some Remorse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rebate thy Spleene, if but for Pitties sake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Cruell, if thou can'st not; let vs scorse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for one Piece of Thine, my whole heart take.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But what of Pitty doe I speake to Thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose Brest is proofe against Complaint or Prayer?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or can I thinke what my Reward shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From that proud Beauty, which was my betrayer?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What talke I of a Heart, when thou hast none?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or if thou hast, it is a flinty one.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>61</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since there 's no helpe, Come let vs kisse and part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, I haue done: You get no more of Me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I am glad, yea glad withall my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thus so cleanly, I my Selfe can free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shake hands for euer, Cancell all our Vowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when we meet at any time againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be it not scene in either of our Browes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That We one iot of former Loue reteyne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now at the last gaspe of Loues latest Breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Innocence is closing vp his Eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now if thou would'st, when all haue giuen him ouer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From Death to Life, thou might'st him yet recouer.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/04.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>ODES</h2>
+
+<h3>[from the Edition of 1619]</h3>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">To Himselfe and The Harpe</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And why not I, as hee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That's greatest, if as free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(In sundry strains that striue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since there so many be)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Th' old <i>Lyrick</i> kind reuiue?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I will, yea, and I may;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who shall oppose my way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For what is he alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That of himselfe can say,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">Hee's Heire of <i>Helicon</i>?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Apollo</span>, and the Nine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forbid no Man their Shrine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That commeth with hands pure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else be they so diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They will not him indure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For they be such coy Things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they care not for Kings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dare let them know it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor may he touch their Springs,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">That is not borne a Poet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Pyreneus, <i>King of</i> Phocis, <i>attempting to rauish the Muses.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Phocean</i> it did proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom when foule Lust did moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those Mayds vnchast to make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell, as with them he stroue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His Neck and iustly brake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span><span class="i0">That instrument ne'r heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strooke by the skilfull Bard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It strongly to awake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it th' infernalls skard,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">And made Olympus quake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Sam. lib. 1. cap. 16.</div>
+<span class="i0">As those Prophetike strings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose sounds with fiery Wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Draue Fiends from their abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touch'd by the best of Kings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That sang the holy Ode.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Orpheus <i>the</i> Thracian <i>Poet</i>. Caput, Hebre, lyramque Excipis. &amp;c. Ouid. lib. 11. Metam.</div>
+<span class="i0">So his, which Women slue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it int' Hebrus threw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such sounds yet forth it sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Bankes to weepe that drue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">As downe the streame it went.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Mercury <i>inuentor of the Harpe, as</i> Horace Ode 10. lib. 1. <i>curuaq; lyra parent&#7869;</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">That by the Tortoyse shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To <span class="smcap">Mayas</span> Sonne it fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The most thereof not doubt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sure some Power did dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Him who found it out.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Thebes <i>fayned to haue beene raysed by Musicke.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">The Wildest of the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Ayre, with Riuers t' yeeld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which mou'd; that sturdy Glebes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And massie Oakes could weeld,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">To rayse the pyles of <i>Thebes</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And diuersly though Strung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So anciently We sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To it, that Now scarce knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If first it did belong<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To <i>Greece</i>, or if our Owne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote"><i>The ancient</i> British <i>Priests</i> so called of their abode in woods.</div>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Druydes</i> imbrew'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Gore, on Altars rude<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Sacrifices crown'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hollow Woods bedew'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">Ador'd the Trembling sound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+<div class="sidenote">Pindar <i>Prince of the</i> Greeke lyricks, <i>of whom</i> Horace: Pindarum quisquis studet, &amp;c. Ode 2. lib. 4.</div>
+<span class="i0">Though wee be All to seeke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <span class="smcap">Pindar</span> that Great <i>Greeke</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To Finger it aright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Soule with power to strike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His hand retayn'd such Might.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Horace <i>first of the</i> Romans <i>in that kind</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">Or him that <i>Rome</i> did grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose Ayres we all imbrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That scarcely found his Peere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor giueth <span class="smcap">Ph&#339;bvs</span> place,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i2">For Strokes diuinely cleere.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote"><i>The</i> Irish <i>Harpe</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Irish</i> I admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still cleaue to that Lyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As our Musike's Mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thinke, till I expire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Apollo's</span> such another.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As <i>Britons</i>, that so long<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue held this Antike Song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And let all our Carpers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forbeare their fame to wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i2">Th' are right skilfull Harpers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote">Southerne, <i>an</i> English <i>Lyrick</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>Southerne</i>, I long thee spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet wish thee well to fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who me pleased'st greatly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As first, therefore more rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Handling thy Harpe neatly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To those that with despight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall terme these Numbers slight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell them their Iudgement's blind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much erring from the right,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i2">It is a Noble kind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sidenote"><i>An old</i> English <i>Rymer</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">Nor is 't the Verse doth make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That giueth, or doth take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Tis possible to clyme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To kindle, or to slake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Although in <span class="smcap">Skelton's</span> Ryme.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">To The New Yeere</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rich Statue, double-faced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Marble Temples graced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To rayse thy God-head hyer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In flames where Altars shining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before thy Priests diuining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doe od'rous Fumes expire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great <span class="smcap">Ianvs</span>, I thy pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all the <i>Thespian</i> treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doe seriously pursue;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">To th' passed yeere returning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though the old adiourning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet bringing in the new.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy ancient Vigils yeerely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I haue obserued cleerely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy Feasts yet smoaking bee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since all thy store abroad is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giue something to my Goddesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As hath been vs'd by thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Giue her th' <i>Eoan</i> brightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Wing'd with that subtill lightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That doth trans-pierce the Ayre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Roses of the Morning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rising Heau'n adorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To mesh with flames of Hayre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those ceaselesse Sounds, aboue all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made by those Orbes that moue all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And euer swelling there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrap'd vp in Numbers flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them actually bestowing,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">For Iewels at her Eare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Rapture great and holy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe thou transport me wholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So well her forme to vary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I aloft may beare her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereas I will insphere her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Regions high and starry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><span class="i0">And in my choise Composures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soft and easie Closures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So amorously shall meet;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">That euery liuely Ceasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall tread a perfect Measure<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set on so equall feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That Spray to fame so fertle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Louer-crowning Mirtle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Wreaths of mixed Bowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within whose shades are dwelling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Beauties most excelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Inthron'd vpon her Browes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those Paralels so euen,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Drawne on the face of Heauen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That curious Art supposes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Direct those Gems, whose cleerenesse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Farre off amaze by neerenesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each Globe such fire incloses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her Bosome full of Blisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Nature made for Kisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So pure and wond'rous cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereas a thousand Graces<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold their louely Faces,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">As they are bathing there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, thou selfe-little blindnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kindnesse of vnkindnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet one of those diuine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Brands to me were leuer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy <i>Fascia</i>, and thy Quiuer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thou this Quill of mine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This Heart so freshly bleeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon it owne selfe feeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose woundes still dropping be;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">O Loue, thy selfe confounding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her coldnesse so abounding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yet such heat in me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet if I be inspired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile leaue thee so admired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To all that shall succeed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were they more then many,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mongst all, there is not any,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Time so oft shall read.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor Adamant ingraued,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">That hath been choisely 'st saued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Idea's</span> Name out-weares;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So large a Dower as this is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greatest often misses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Diadem that beares.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">To His Valentine</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Muse, bid the Morne awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sad Winter now declines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each Bird doth chuse a Make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This day 's Saint <span class="smcap">Valentine's</span>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that good Bishop's sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Get vp, and let vs see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Beautie it shall bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Fortune vs assignes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But lo, in happy How'r,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">The place wherein she lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In yonder climbing Tow'r,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gilt by the glitt'ring Rise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O <span class="smcap">Iove</span>! that in a Show'r,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As once that Thund'rer did,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he in drops lay hid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That I could her surprize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her Canopie Ile draw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With spangled Plumes bedight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Mortall euer saw<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">So rauishing a sight;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span><span class="i0">That it the Gods might awe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pow'rfully trans-pierce<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Globie Vniuerse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out-shooting eu'ry Light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My Lips Ile softly lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vpon her heau'nly Cheeke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dy'd like the dawning Day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As polish'd Iuorie sleeke:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in her Eare Ile say;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">O, thou bright Morning-Starre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis I that come so farre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My Valentine to seeke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each little Bird, this Tyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doth chuse her loued Pheere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which constantly abide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Wedlock all the yeere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Nature is their Guide:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So may we two be true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This yeere, nor change for new,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">As Turtles coupled were.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Sparrow, Swan, the Doue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though <span class="smcap">Venvs</span> Birds they be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet are they not for Loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So absolute as we:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Reason vs doth moue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They but by billing woo:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then try what we can doo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To whom each sense is free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which we haue more then they,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">By liuelyer Organs sway'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Appetite each way<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More by our Sense obay'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Passions to display,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Season vs doth fit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let vs follow it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As Nature vs doth lead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span><span class="i0">One Kisse in two let's breake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Confounded with the touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But halfe words let vs speake,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">Our Lip's imploy'd so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill we both grow weake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sweetnesse of thy breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O smother me to death:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Long let our Ioyes be such.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let's laugh at them that chuse<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their Valentines by lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To weare their Names that vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whom idly they haue got:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such poore choise we refuse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Saint <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> befriend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We thus this Morne may spend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Else Muse, awake her not.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">The Heart</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If thus we needs must goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What shall our one Heart doe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This One made of our Two?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Madame, two Hearts we brake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from them both did take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best, one Heart to make.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Halfe this is of your Heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mine in the other part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ioyn'd by our equall Art.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Were it cymented, or sowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Shreds or Pieces knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We each might find our owne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But 'tis dissolu'd, and fix'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with such cunning mix'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No diffrence that betwixt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span><span class="i0">But how shall we agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By whom it kept shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether by you, or me?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It cannot two Brests fill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">One must be heartlesse still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill the other will.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It came to me one day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I will'd it to say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With whether it would stay?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It told me, in your Brest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where it might hope to rest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if it were my Ghest,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For certainety it knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I would still anew<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Be sending it to you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Neuer, I thinke, had two<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such worke, so much to doo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Vnitie to woo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yours was so cold and chaste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst mine with zeale did waste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Fire with Water plac'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How did my Heart intreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How pant, how did it beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till it could giue yours heat!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Till to that temper brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through our perfection wrought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That blessing eythers Thought.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In such a Height it lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From this base Worlds dull Eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Heauen it not enuyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All that this Earth can show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Heart shall not once know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it too vile and low.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">The Sacrifice To Apollo</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Priests of <span class="smcap">Apollo</span>, sacred be the Roome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this learn'd Meeting: Let no barbarous Groome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">How braue soe'r he bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Attempt to enter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But of the Muses free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">None here may venter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This for the <i>Delphian</i> Prophets is prepar'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prophane Vulgar are from hence debar'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And since the Feast so happily begins,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Call vp those faire Nine, with their Violins;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They are begot by <span class="smcap">Iove</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then let vs place them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where no Clowne in may shoue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That may disgrace them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let them neere to young <span class="smcap">Apollo</span> sit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So shall his Foot-pace ouer-flow with Wit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where be the Graces, where be those fayre Three?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In any hand they may not absent bee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They to the Gods are deare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i4">And they can humbly<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Teach vs, our Selues to beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And doe things comely:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They, and the Muses, rise both from one Stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They grace the Muses, and the Muses them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bring forth your Flaggons (fill'd with sparkling Wine)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereon swolne <span class="smcap">Bacchvs</span>, crowned with a Vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Is grauen, and fill out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">It well bestowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To eu'ry Man about,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i4">In Goblets flowing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let not a Man drinke, but in Draughts profound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To our God <span class="smcap">Ph&#339;bvs</span> let the Health goe Round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let your Iests flye at large; yet therewithall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See they be Salt, but yet not mix'd with Gall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Not tending to disgrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But fayrely giuen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Becomming well the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Modest, and euen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they with tickling Pleasure may prouoke<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Laughter in him, on whom the Iest is broke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or if the deeds of <span class="smcap">Heroes</span> ye rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let them be sung in so well-ord'red Verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That each word haue his weight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet runne with pleasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Holding one stately height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In so braue measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they may make the stiffest Storme seeme weake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dampe <span class="smcap">Ioves</span> Thunder, when it lowd'st doth speake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And if yee list to exercise your Vayne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Or in the Sock, or in the Buskin'd Strayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Let Art and Nature goe<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">One with the other;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet so, that Art may show<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nature her Mother;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thick-brayn'd Audience liuely to awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till with shrill Claps the Theater doe shake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing Hymnes to <span class="smcap">Bacchvs</span> then, with hands vprear'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Offer to <span class="smcap">Iove</span>, who most is to be fear'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From him the Muse we haue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i4">From him proceedeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">More then we dare to craue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">'Tis he that feedeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them, whom the World would starue; then let the Lyre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sound, whilst his Altars endlesse flames expire.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">To Cvpid</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Maydens, why spare ye?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or whether not dare ye<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Correct the blind Shooter?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because wanton <span class="smcap">Venvs</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So oft that doth paine vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is her Sonnes Tutor.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now in the Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He proueth his Wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Field is his Bower,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And as the small Bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About flyeth hee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From Flower to Flower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And wantonly roues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Abroad in the Groues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in the Ayre houers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which when it him deweth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Fethers he meweth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sighes of true Louers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And since doom'd by Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">(That well knew his Hate)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Hee should be blinde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For very despite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Eyes be his White,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So wayward his kinde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If his Shafts loosing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Ill his Mark choosing)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or his Bow broken;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Moane <span class="smcap">Venvs</span> maketh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And care that she taketh,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">Cannot be spoken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To <span class="smcap">Vulcan</span> commending<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her loue, and straight sending<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her Doues and her Sparrowes,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><span class="i0">With Kisses vnto him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all but to woo him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To make her Sonne Arrowes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Telling what he hath done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Sayth she, Right mine owne Sonne)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In her Armes she him closes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Sweetes on him fans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Layd in Downe of her Swans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His Sheets, Leaues of Roses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And feeds him with Kisses;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which oft when he misses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He euer is froward:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Mothers o'r-ioying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes by much coying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Child so vntoward.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet in a fine Net,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">That a Spider set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Maydens had caught him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had she not beene neere him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And chanced to heare him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More good they had taught him.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">An Amovret Anacreontick</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Most good, most faire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Thing as rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To call you's lost;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all the cost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words can bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So poorely show<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon your prayse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all the wayes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sense hath, come short:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Whereby Report<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls them vnder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when Wonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More hath seyzed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet not pleased,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span><span class="i0">That it in kinde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing can finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You to expresse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuerthelesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As by Globes small,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">This Mightie <span class="smcap">All</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is shew'd, though farre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Life, each Starre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A World being:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So wee seeing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You, like as that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely trust what<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Art doth vs teach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I reach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Morall Things,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">And that my Strings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grauely should strike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight some mislike<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blotteth mine <span class="smcap">Ode</span>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As with the Loade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Steele we touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forced ne'r so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet still remoues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To that it loues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till there it stayes;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">So to your prayse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I turne euer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though neuer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From you mouing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happie so louing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Loves Conqvest</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Wer't granted me to choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How I would end my dayes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since I this life must loose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It should be in Your praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there is no Bayes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can be set aboue you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><span class="i2">S' impossibly I loue You,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for you sit so hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whence none may remoue You<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">In my cleere Poesie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I oft deny<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You so ample Merit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The freedome of my Spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maintayning (still) my Cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your Sex not to inherit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vrging the <i>Salique</i> Lawes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But your Vertue drawes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From me euery due.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Thus still You me pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">That no where I can dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By Feare made iust to You,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who naturally rebell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of You that excell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That should I still Endyte,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Yet will You want some Ryte.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lost in your high praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wander to and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As seeing sundry Waies:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet which the right not know<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">To get out of this Maze.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">To The Viriginian Voyage</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You braue Heroique minds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy your Countries Name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Honour still pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goe, and subdue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst loyt'ring Hinds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lurke here at home, with shame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Britans</i>, you stay too long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quickly aboard bestow you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And with a merry Gale<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">Swell your stretch'd Sayle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Vowes as strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the Winds that blow you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><span class="i0">Your Course securely steere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">West and by South forth keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rocks, Lee-shores, nor Sholes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When <span class="smcap">Eolvs</span> scowles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You need not feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So absolute the Deepe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And cheerefully at Sea,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Successe you still intice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To get the Pearle and Gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And ours to hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Virginia</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth's onely Paradise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where Nature hath in store<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fowle, Venison, and Fish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Fruitfull'st Soyle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without your Toyle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three Haruests more,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">All greater then your Wish.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the ambitious Vine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crownes with his purple Masse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cedar reaching hie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To kisse the Sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Cypresse, Pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vse-full Sassafras.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To whome, the golden Age<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still Natures lawes doth giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No other Cares that tend,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">But Them to defend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Winters rage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That long there doth not liue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When as the Lushious smell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of that delicious Land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Aboue the Seas that flowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cleere Wind throwes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Hearts to swell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Approaching the deare Strande.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span><span class="i0">In kenning of the Shore<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">(Thanks to God first giuen,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O you the happy'st men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be Frolike then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Cannons roare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frighting the wide Heauen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in Regions farre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such Heroes bring yee foorth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As those from whom We came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And plant Our name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder that Starre<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Not knowne vnto our North.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And as there Plenty growes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Lawrell euery where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Apollo's</span> Sacred tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You may it see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Poets Browes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To crowne, that may sing there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy Voyages attend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Industrious <span class="smcap">Hacklvit</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose Reading shall inflame<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i2">Men to seeke Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And much commend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To after-Times thy Wit.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">An Ode Written In The Peake</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This while we are abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall we not touch our Lyre?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall we not sing an <span class="smcap">Ode</span>?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall that holy Fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In vs that strongly glow'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In this cold Ayre expire?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long since the Summer layd<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her lustie Brau'rie downe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Autumne halfe is way'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">And <span class="smcap">Boreas</span> 'gins to frowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since now I did behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Great <span class="smcap">Brvtes</span> first builded Towne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span><span class="i0">Though in the vtmost <i>Peake</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A while we doe remaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the Mountaines bleake<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Expos'd to Sleet and Raine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Sport our Houres shall breake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To exercise our Vaine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What though bright <span class="smcap">Ph&#339;bvs</span> Beames<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Refresh the Southerne Ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though the Princely <i>Thames</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With beautious Nymphs abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by old <i>Camber's</i> Streames<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be many Wonders found;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet many Riuers cleare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here glide in Siluer Swathes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what of all most deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Buckston's</i> delicious Bathes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong Ale and Noble Cheare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">T' asswage breeme Winters scathes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those grim and horrid Caues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose Lookes affright the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein nice Nature saues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What she would not bewray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our better leasure craues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And doth inuite our Lay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In places farre or neere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or famous, or obscure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where wholesome is the Ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">Or where the most impure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All times, and euery-where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Muse is still in vre.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">His Defence Against The Idle Critick</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Ryme nor marres, nor makes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor addeth it, nor takes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From that which we propose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Things imaginarie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe so strangely varie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That quickly we them lose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span><span class="i0">And what 's quickly begot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As soone againe is not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This doe I truely know:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Yea, and what 's borne with paine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Sense doth long'st retaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gone with a greater Flow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet this Critick so sterne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But whom, none must discerne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor perfectly haue seeing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strangely layes about him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As nothing without him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were worthy of being.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That I my selfe betray<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">To that most publique way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the Worlds old Bawd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Custome, that doth humor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by idle rumor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her Dotages applaud.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That whilst he still prefers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those that be wholly hers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Madnesse and Ignorance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I creepe behind the Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From spertling with their Crime,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">And glad too with my Chance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O wretched World the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the euill most vile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beareth the fayrest face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And inconstant lightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a scornefull slightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The best Things doth disgrace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst this strange knowing Beast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, of himselfe the least,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His Enuie declaring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Makes Vertue to descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her title to defend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Against him, much preparing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet these me not delude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor from my place extrude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By their resolued Hate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their vilenesse that doe know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to my selfe I show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To keepe aboue my Fate.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">To His Rivall</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Her lou'd I most,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By thee that 's lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though she were wonne with leasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She was my gaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But to my paine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The Ship full fraught<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Gold, farre sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though ne'r so wisely helmed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">May suffer wracke<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sayling backe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Tempest ouer-whelmed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But shee, good Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Did not preferre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You, for that I was ranging;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But for that shee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Found faith in mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she lou'd to be changing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Therefore boast not<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Your happy Lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be silent now you haue her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The time I knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She slighted you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I was in her fauour.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">None stands so fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But may be cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Fortune, and disgraced:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Once did I weare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her Garter there,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Where you her Gloue haue placed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span><span class="i2">I had the Vow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That thou hast now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Glances to discouer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her Loue to mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And she to thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reades but old Lessons ouer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">She hath no Smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That can beguile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as my Thought I know it;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">Yea, to a Hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Both when and where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how she will bestow it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">What now is thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was onely mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And first to me was giuen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou laugh'st at mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I laugh at thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus we two are euen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But Ile not mourne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">But stay my Turne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Wind may come about, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And once againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May bring me in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And help to beare you out, Sir.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">A Skeltoniad</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Muse should be sprightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet not handling lightly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Things graue; as much loath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Things that be slight, to cloath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Curiously: To retayne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Comelinesse in meane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is true Knowledge and Wit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not me forc'd Rage doth fit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I thereto should lacke<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Tabacco, or need Sacke,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><span class="i0">Which to the colder Braine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the true <i>Hyppocrene</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor did I euer care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For great Fooles, nor them spare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vertue, though neglected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not so deiected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As vilely to descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To low Basenesse their end;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neyther each ryming Slaue<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Deserues the Name to haue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Poet: so the Rabble<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Fooles, for the Table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That haue their Iests by Heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As an Actor his Part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might assume them Chayres<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the Muses Heyres.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Parnassus</i> is not clome<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By euery such Mome;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vp whose steep side who swerues,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">It behoues t' haue strong Nerues:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Resolution such,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How well, and not how much<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write, thus doe I fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like some few good that care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The euill sort among)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How well to liue, and not how long.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">The Cryer</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Good Folke, for Gold or Hyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But helpe me to a Cryer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my poore Heart is runne astray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After two Eyes, that pass'd this way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O yes, O yes, O yes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">If there be any Man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In Towne or Countrey, can<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bring me my Heart againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ile please him for his paine;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And by these Marks I will you show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That onely I this Heart doe owe.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><span class="i4">It is a wounded Heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wherein yet sticks the Dart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Eu'ry piece sore hurt throughout it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Faith, and Troth, writ round about it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a tame Heart, and a deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And neuer vs'd to roame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But hauing got this Haunt, I feare<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">'Twill hardly stay at home.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">For Gods sake, walking by the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">If you my Heart doe see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either impound it for a Stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or send it backe to me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">To His Coy Love</span></h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">A Canzonet</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I pray thee leaue, loue me no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Call home the Heart you gaue me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I but in vaine that Saint adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That can, but will not saue me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was euer man thus serued?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amidst an Ocean of Delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Pleasure to be sterued.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shew me no more those Snowie Brests,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">With Azure Riuerets branched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet is my Thirst not stanched.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O <span class="smcap">Tantalvs</span>, thy Paines n'er tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By me thou art preuented;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But thus in Heauen tormented.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Clip me no more in those deare Armes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">And doe but more inthrall me.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span><span class="i0">But see, how patient I am growne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In all this coyle about thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come nice thing, let my Heart alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I cannot liue without thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">A Hymne To His Ladies Birth-Place</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Couentry, that do'st adorne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Countrey wherein I was borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet therein lyes not thy prayse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs with Bayes:<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Couentry finely walled.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">'Tis not thy Wall, me to thee weds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Ports, nor thy proud Pyrameds,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>The Shoulder-bone of a hare of mighty bignesse.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">Nor thy Trophies of the Bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that Shee which I adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which scarce Goodnesse selfe can payre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">First their breathing blest thy Ayre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Idea</span>, in which Name I hide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her, in my heart Deifi'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For what good, Man's mind can see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely her <span class="smcap">Ideas</span> be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She, in whom the Vertues came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Womans shape, and tooke her Name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She so farre past Imitation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As but Nature our Creation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could not alter, she had aymed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">More then Woman to haue framed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She, whose truely written Story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thy poore Name shall adde more glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then if it should haue beene thy Chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T' haue bred our Kings that Conquer'd <i>France</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had She beene borne the former Age,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Two famous Pilgrimages, the one in</i> Norfolk, <i>the other in</i> Kent.</div>
+<span class="i0">That house had beene a Pilgrimage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reputed more Diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then <i>Walsingham</i> or <span class="smcap">Beckets</span> Shrine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Princesse, to whom thou do'st owe<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Thy Freedome, whose Cleere blushing snow,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">Godiua, <i>Duke</i> Leofricks <i>wife, who obtained the Freedome of the city, of her husband, by riding thorow it naked.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">The enuious Sunne saw, when as she<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span><span class="i0">Naked rode to make Thee free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was but her Type, as to foretell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou should'st bring forth one, should excell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Bounty, by whom thou should'st haue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More Honour, then she Freedome gaue;<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Queene</i> Elizabeth.</div>
+<span class="i0">And that great Queene, which but of late<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rul'd this Land in Peace and State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had not beene, but Heauen had sworne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">A Maide should raigne, when she was borne.<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>A noted Streete in</i> Couentry.</div>
+<span class="i2">Of thy Streets, which thou hold'st best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And most frequent of the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy <i>Mich-Parke</i> eu'ry yeere,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>His Mistresse birth-day.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">On the fourth of <i>August</i> there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let thy Maides from <span class="smcap">Flora's</span> bowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their Choyce and daintiest flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decke Thee vp, and from their store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With braue Garlands crowne that dore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The old Man passing by that way,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">To his Sonne in time shall say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was that Lady borne, which long<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To after-Ages shall be sung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who vnawares being passed by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back to that House shall cast his Eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speaking my Verses as he goes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a Sigh shut eu'ry Close.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Deare Citie, trauelling by thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When thy rising Spyres I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Destined her place of Birth;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Yet me thinkes the very Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hallowed is, so farre as I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can thee possibly descry:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then thou dwelling in this place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hearing some rude Hinde disgrace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Citie with some scuruy thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which some Iester forth did bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speake these Lines where thou do'st come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strike the Slaue for euer dumbe.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">To The Cambro-Britans</span> and their Harpe, his Ballad of
+<span class="smcap">Agincovrt</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faire stood the Wind for <i>France</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we our Sayles aduance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor now to proue our chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Longer will tarry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But putting to the Mayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At <i>Kaux</i>, the Mouth of <i>Sene</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all his Martiall Trayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Landed King <span class="smcap">Harry</span>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And taking many a Fort,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Furnish'd in Warlike sort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marcheth tow'rds <i>Agincourt</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In happy howre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Skirmishing day by day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those that stop'd his way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the <i>French</i> Gen'rall lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With all his Power.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which in his Hight of Pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">King <span class="smcap">Henry</span> to deride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Ransome to prouide<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i4">To the King sending.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he neglects the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As from a Nation vile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet with an angry smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Their fall portending.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And turning to his Men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth our braue <span class="smcap">Henry</span> then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though they to one be ten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be not amazed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet haue we well begunne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Battels so brauely wonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue euer to the Sonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Fame beene raysed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><span class="i0">And, for my Selfe (quoth he),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This my full rest shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>England</i> ne'r mourne for Me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor more esteeme me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Victor I will remaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or on this Earth lie slaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuer shall Shee sustaine,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i4">Losse to redeeme me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Poiters</i> and <i>Cressy</i> tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When most their Pride did swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder our Swords they fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">No lesse our skill is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than when our Grandsire Great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clayming the Regall Seate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By many a Warlike feate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lop'd the <i>French</i> Lillies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Duke of <i>Yorke</i> so dread,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">The eager Vaward led;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the maine, <span class="smcap">Henry</span> sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Among'st his Hench-men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Excester</span> had the Rere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Brauer man not there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Lord, how hot they were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On the false <i>French-men</i>!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They now to fight are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armour on Armour shone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drumme now to Drumme did grone,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i4">To heare, was wonder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That with the Cryes they make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very Earth did shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trumpet to Trumpet spake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thunder to Thunder.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Well it thine Age became,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Noble <span class="smcap">Erpingham</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which didst the Signall ayme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To our hid Forces;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span><span class="i0">When from a Medow by,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Like a Storme suddenly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>English</i> Archery<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Stuck the <i>French</i> Horses,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With <i>Spanish</i> Ewgh so strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arrowes a Cloth-yard long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That like to Serpents stung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Piercing the Weather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None from his fellow starts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But playing Manly parts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like true <i>English</i> hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i4">Stuck close together.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When downe their Bowes they threw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And forth their Bilbowes drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the French they flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Not one was tardie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armes were from shoulders sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scalpes to the Teeth were rent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Downe the <i>French</i> Pesants went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our Men were hardie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This while our Noble King,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">His broad Sword brandishing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Downe the <i>French</i> Hoast did ding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As to o'r-whelme it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a deepe Wound lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Armes with Bloud besprent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a cruell Dent<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bruised his Helmet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gloster</span>, that Duke so good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next of the Royall Blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For famous <i>England</i> stood,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i4">With his braue Brother;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Clarence</span>, in Steele so bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though but a Maiden Knight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in that furious Fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Scarce such another,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span><span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Warwick</span> in Bloud did wade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oxford</span> the Foe inuade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cruell slaughter made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Still as they ran vp;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Svffolke</span> his Axe did ply,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Beavmont</span> and <span class="smcap">Willovghby</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bare them right doughtily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Ferrers</span> and <span class="smcap">Fanhope</span>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vpon Saint <span class="smcap">Crispin's</span> day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fought was this Noble Fray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which Fame did not delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To <i>England</i> to carry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, when shall <i>English</i> Men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such Acts fill a Pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or <i>England</i> breed againe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i4">Such a King <span class="smcap">Harry?</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/02.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+<h2>[from the Edition of 1606]</h2>
+
+
+<h4><i>Ode 4</i></h4>
+
+<h4><i>To my worthy frend, Master John Sauage of the Inner Temple</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vppon this sinfull earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If man can happy be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And higher then his birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Frend) take him thus from me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whome promise not deceiues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he the breach should rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor constant reason leaues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Opinion to pursue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To rayse his mean estate<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">That sooths no wanton's sinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth that preferment hate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That virtue doth not winne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor brauery doth admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor doth more loue professe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To that he doth desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then that he doth possesse.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loose humor nor to please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That neither spares nor spends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by discretion weyes<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">What is to needfull ends.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To him deseruing not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not yeelding, nor doth hould<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is not his, doing what<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He ought not what he could.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whome the base tyrants will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soe much could neuer awe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As him for good or ill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From honesty to drawe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><span class="i0">Whose constancy doth rise<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">'Boue vndeserued spight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose valewr's to despise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That most doth him delight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That earely leaue doth take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of th' world though to his payne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For virtues onely sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not till need constrayne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Noe man can be so free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though in imperiall seate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Eminent as he<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">That deemeth nothing greate.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Ode 8</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Singe wee the Rose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then which no flower there growes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is sweeter:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aptly her compare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With what in that is rare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A parallel none meeter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or made poses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this that incloses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Suche blisses,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">That naturally flusheth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As she blusheth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When she is robd of kisses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or if strew'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When with the morning dew'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or stilling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or howe to sense expos'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All which in her inclos'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ech place with sweetnes filling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That most renown'd<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">By Nature richly crownd<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With yellow,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><span class="i0">Of that delitious layre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as pure, her hayre<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vnto the same the fellowe,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fearing of harme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature that flower doth arme<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The touch giues her offence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with reuerence<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">Vnto her selfe a stranger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That redde, or white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or mixt, the sence delyte<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Behoulding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her complexion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All which perfection<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such harmony infouldinge.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That deuyded<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere it was descided<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which most pure,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Began the greeuous war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>York</i> and <i>Lancaster</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That did many yeeres indure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Conflicts as greate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As were in all that heate<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I sustaine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By her, as many harts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As men on either parts<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That with her eies hath slaine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Primrose flower<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">The first of <i>Flora's</i> bower<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is placed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soo is shee first as best<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though excellent the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All gracing, by none graced.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/05.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>ELEGIES VPON SVNDRY OCCASIONS</h2>
+
+<h3>[from the Edition of 1627]</h3>
+
+
+<h4>Of his Ladies not Comming <i>to London</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That ten-yeares-trauell'd <i>Greeke</i> return'd from Sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne'r ioyd so much to see his <i>Ithaca</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I should you, who are alone to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More then wide <i>Greece</i> could to that wanderer be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The winter windes still Easterly doe keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with keene Frosts haue chained vp the deepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sunne's to vs a niggard of his Rayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But reuelleth with our <i>Antipodes</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seldome to vs when he shewes his head,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Muffled in vapours, he straight hies to bed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In those bleake mountaines can you liue where snowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maketh the vales vp to the hilles to growe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereas mens breathes doe instantly congeale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And attom'd mists turne instantly to hayle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Belike you thinke, from this more temperate cost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sighes may haue the power to thawe the frost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which I from hence should swiftly send you thither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet not so swift, as you come slowly hither.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many a time, hath <i>Phebe</i> from her wayne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">With <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> fires fill'd vp her hornes againe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shee through her Orbe, still on her course doth range,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you keep yours still, nor for me will change.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sunne that mounted the sterne Lions back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall with the Fishes shortly diue the Brack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still you keepe your station, which confines<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You, nor regard him trauelling the signes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those ships which when you went, put out to Sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both to our <i>Groenland</i>, and <i>Virginia</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><span class="i0">Are now return'd, and Custom'd haue their fraught,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Yet you arriue not, nor returne me ought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Thames was not so frozen yet this yeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As is my bosome, with the chilly feare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of your not comming, which on me doth light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As on those Climes, where halfe the world is night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of euery tedious houre you haue made two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All this long Winter here, by missing you:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Minutes are months, and when the houre is past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A yeare is ended since the Clocke strooke last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When your Remembrance puts me on the Racke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">And I should Swound to see an <i>Almanacke</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To reade what silent weekes away are slid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the dire Fates you from my sight haue hid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I hate him who the first Deuisor was<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this same foolish thing, the Hower-glasse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of the Watch, whose dribbling sands and Wheele,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their slow stroakes, make mee too much to feele<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your slackenesse hither, O how I doe ban,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him that these Dialls against walles began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose Snayly motion of the moouing hand,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">(Although it goe) yet seeme to me to stand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though at <i>Adam</i> it had first set out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had been stealing all this while about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when it backe to the first point should come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shall be then iust at the generall Doome.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Seas into themselues retract their flowes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The changing Winde from euery quarter blowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Declining Winter in the Spring doth call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Starrs rise to vs, as from vs they fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Birdes we see, that leaue vs in the Prime,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Againe in Autumne re-salute our Clime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure, either Nature you from kinde hath made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or you delight else to be Retrograde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But I perceiue by your attractiue powers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like an Inchantresse you haue charm'd the bowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into short minutes, and haue drawne them back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that of vs at <i>London</i>, you doe lack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almost a yeare, the Spring is scarce begonne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There where you liue, and Autumne almost done.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><span class="i0">With vs more Eastward, surely you deuise,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">By your strong Magicke, that the Sunne shall rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where now it setts, and that in some few yeares<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You'l alter quite the Motion of the Spheares.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yes, and you meane, I shall complaine my loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To grauell'd Walkes, or to a stupid Groue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now your companions; and that you the while<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(As you are cruell) will sit by and smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make me write to these, while Passers by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleightly looke in your louely face, where I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See Beauties heauen, whilst silly blockheads, they<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Like laden Asses, plod vpon their way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wonder not, as you should point a Clowne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vp to the <i>Guards</i>, or <i>Ariadnes</i> Crowne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Constellations, and his dulnesse tell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hee'd thinke your words were certainly a Spell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or him some piece from <i>Creet</i>, or <i>Marcus</i> show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all his life which till that time ne'r saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Painting: except in Alehouse or old Hall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Done by some Druzzler, of the Prodigall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nay doe, stay still, whilst time away shall steale<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">Your youth, and beautie, and your selfe conceale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From me I pray you, you haue now inur'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me to your absence, and I haue endur'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your want this long, whilst I haue starued bine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For your short Letters, as you helde it sinne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write to me, that to appease my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I reade ore those, you writ a yeare agoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which are to me, as though they had bin made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long time before the first <i>Olympiad</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For thankes and curt'sies sell your presence then<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">To tatling Women, and to things like men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be more foolish then the <i>Indians</i> are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Bells, for Kniues, for Glasses, and such ware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sell their Pearle and Gold, but here I stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I would not haue you but come away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+<h4>To Master <span class="smcap">George Sandys</span></h4>
+
+<h4><i>Treasurer for the English Colony in</i> <span class="smcap">Virginia</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Friend, if you thinke my Papers may supplie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You, with some strange omitted Noueltie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which others Letters yet haue left vntould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You take me off, before I can take hould<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of you at all; I put not thus to Sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For two monthes Voyage to <i>Virginia</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With newes which now, a little something here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But will be nothing ere it can come there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I feare, as I doe Stabbing; this word, State,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">I dare not speake of the <i>Palatinate</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although some men make it their hourely theame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And talke what's done in <i>Austria</i>, and in <i>Beame</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I may not so; what <i>Spinola</i> intends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor with his <i>Dutch</i>, which way Prince <i>Maurice</i> bends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To other men, although these things be free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet (<span class="smcap">George</span>) they must be misteries to mee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I scarce dare praise a vertuous friend that's dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest for my lines he should be censured;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was my hap before all other men<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">To suffer shipwrack by my forward pen:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When King <span class="smcap">Iames</span> entred; at which ioyfull time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I taught his title to this Ile in rime:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to my part did all the Muses win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With high-pitch <i>P&aelig;ans</i> to applaud him in:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When cowardise had tyed vp euery tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all stood silent, yet for him I sung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when before by danger I was dar'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kick'd her from me, nor a iot I spar'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet had not my cleere spirit in Fortunes scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Me aboue earth and her afflictions borne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He next my God on whom I built my trust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had left me troden lower then the dust:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let this passe; in the extreamest ill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Apollo's</i> brood must be couragious still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Pies, and Dawes, sit dumb before their death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely the Swan sings at the parting breath.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><span class="i0">And (worthy <span class="smcap">George</span>) by industry and vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let's see what lines <i>Virginia</i> will produce;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goe on with <span class="smcap">Ovid</span>, as you haue begunne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">With the first fiue Bookes; let your numbers run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glib as the former, so shall it liue long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And doe much honour to the <i>English</i> tongue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intice the Muses thither to repaire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intreat them gently, trayne them to that ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they from hence may thither hap to fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'wards the sad time which but to fast doth hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Poesie is follow'd with such spight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By groueling drones that neuer raught her height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she must hence, she may no longer staye:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">The driery fates prefixed haue the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her departure, which is now come on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they command her straight wayes to be gon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bestiall heard so hotly her pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to her succour, there be very few,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay none at all, her wrongs that will redresse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she must wander in the wildernesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like to the woman, which that holy <span class="smcap">Iohn</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beheld in <i>Pathmos</i> in his vision.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As th' <i>English</i> now, so did the stiff-neckt <i>Iewes</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Their noble Prophets vtterly refuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of these men such poore opinions had;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They counted <i>Esay</i> and <i>Ezechiel</i> mad;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Ieremy</i> his Lamentations writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They thought the Wizard quite out of his wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such sots they were, as worthily to ly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lock't in the chaines of their captiuity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowledge hath still her Eddy in her Flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So it hath beene, and it will still be so.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That famous <i>Greece</i> where learning flourisht most,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Hath of her muses long since left to boast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' vnlettered <i>Turke</i>, and rude <i>Barbarian</i> trades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where <span class="smcap">Homer</span> sang his lofty <i>Iliads</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this vaste volume of the world hath taught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much may to passe in little time be brought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As if to <i>Symptoms</i> we may credit giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This very time, wherein we two now liue,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span><span class="i0">Shall in the compasse, wound the Muses more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all the old <i>English</i> ignorance before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Base Balatry is so belou'd and sought,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">And those braue numbers are put by for naught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which rarely read, were able to awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bodyes from graues, and to the ground to shake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wandring clouds, and to our men at armes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Gainst pikes and muskets were most powerfull charmes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, but I know, insuing ages shall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raise her againe, who now is in her fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out of dust reduce our scattered rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' reiected iewels of these slothfull times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who with the Muses would misspend an hower,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">But let blind Gothish Barbarisme deuoure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These feuerous Dogdays, blest by no record,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to be euerlastingly abhord.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If you vouchsafe rescription, stuffe your quill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With naturall bountyes, and impart your skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the description of the place, that I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May become learned in the soyle thereby;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of noble <i>Wyats</i> health, and let me heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gouernour; and how our people there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Increase and labour, what supplyes are sent,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Which I confesse shall giue me much content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you may saue your labour if you please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write to me ought of your Sauages.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As sauage slaues be in great <i>Britaine</i> here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As any one that you can shew me there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though for this, Ile say I doe not thirst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet I should like it well to be the first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose numbers hence into <i>Virginia</i> flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So (noble <i>Sandis</i>) for this time adue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>To my noble friend Master <span class="smcap">William Browne</span>, <i>of the euill time</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Deare friend, be silent and with patience see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What this mad times Catastrophe will be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The worlds first Wisemen certainly mistooke<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span><span class="i0">Themselues, and spoke things quite beside the booke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that which they haue of said of God, vntrue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or else expect strange iudgement to insue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This Isle is a meere Bedlam, and therein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We all lye rauing, mad in euery sinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And him the wisest most men use to call,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Who doth (alone) the maddest thing of all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He whom the master of all wisedome found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a marckt foole, and so did him propound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time we liue in, to that passe is brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That only he a Censor now is thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that base villaine, (not an age yet gone,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which a good man would not haue look'd vpon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now like a God, with diuine worship follow'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all his actions are accounted hollow'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This world of ours, thus runneth vpon wheeles,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Set on the head, bolt vpright with her heeles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes me thinke of what the <i>Ethnicks</i> told<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' opinion, the Pythagorists vphold,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">Wander From body to body.</div>
+<span class="i0">That the immortall soule doth transmigrate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I suppose by the strong power of fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And since that time now many a lingering yeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through fools, and beasts, and lunatiques haue past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are heere imbodyed in this age at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though so long we from that time be gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet taste we still of that confusion.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">For certainely there's scarse one found that now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowes what t' approoue, or what to disallow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All arsey varsey, nothing is it's owne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to our prouerbe, all turnd vpside downe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To doe in time, is to doe out of season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that speeds best, thats done the farth'st from reason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hee 's high'st that 's low'st, hee 's surest in that 's out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hits the next way that goes farth'st about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He getteth vp vnlike to rise at all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He slips to ground as much vnlike to fall;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Which doth inforce me partly to prefer,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Zeno.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">The opinion of that mad Philosopher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who taught, that those all-framing powers aboue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(As 'tis suppos'd) made man not out of loue<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span><span class="i0">To him at all, but only as a thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make them sport with, which they vse to bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As men doe munkeys, puppets, and such tooles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of laughter: so men are but the Gods fooles.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such are by titles lifted to the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As wherefore no man knowes, God scarcely why;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">The vertuous man depressed like a stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that dull Sot to raise himselfe vpon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who ne're thing yet worthy man durst doe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuer durst looke vpon his countrey's foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor durst attempt that action which might get<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him fame with men: or higher might him set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the base begger (rightly if compar'd;)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Drone yet neuer braue attempt that dar'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet dares be knighted, and from thence dares grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To any title Empire can bestow;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">For this beleeue, that Impudence is now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Cardinall vertue, and men it allow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reuerence, nay more, men study and inuent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New wayes, nay, glory to be impudent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into the clouds the Deuill lately got,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by the moisture doubting much the rot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A medicine tooke to make him purge and cast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which in short time began to worke so fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he fell too 't, and from his backeside flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A rout of rascall a rude ribauld crew<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Of base Plebeians, which no sooner light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon the earth, but with a suddaine flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They spread this Ile, and as <i>Deucalion</i> once<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ouer his shoulder backe, by throwing stones<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They became men, euen so these beasts became,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Owners of titles from an obscure name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He that by riot, of a mighty rent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath his late goodly Patrimony spent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And into base and wilfull beggery run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This man as he some glorious acte had done,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">With some great pension, or rich guift releeu'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he that hath by industry atchieu'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some noble thing, contemned and disgrac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the forlorne hope of the times is plac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><span class="i0">As though that God had carelessely left all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That being hath on this terrestriall ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fortunes guiding, nor would haue to doe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With man, nor aught that doth belong him to,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or at the least God hauing giuen more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Power to the Deuill, then he did of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">Ouer this world: the feind as he doth hate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vertuous man; maligning his estate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All noble things, and would haue by his will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be damn'd with him, vsing all his skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By his blacke hellish ministers to vexe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All worthy men, and strangely to perplexe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their constancie, there by them so to fright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they should yeeld them wholely to his might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of these things I vainely doe but tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hell is heauen, and heau'n is now turn'd hell;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Where that which lately blasphemy hath bin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now godlinesse, much lesse accounted sin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a long while I greatly meruail'd why<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Buffoons and Bawdes should hourely multiply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till that of late I construed it that they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To present thrift had got the perfect way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I concluded by their odious crimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was for vs no thriuing in these times.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As men oft laugh at little Babes, when they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hap to behold some strange thing in their play,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">To see them on the suddaine strucken sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As in their fancie some strange formes they had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which they by pointing with their fingers showe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Angry at our capacities so slowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That by their countenance we no sooner learne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the wonder which they so discerne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the celestiall powers doe sit and smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At innocent and vertuous men the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They stand amazed at the world ore-gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So farre beyond imagination,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">With slauish basenesse, that the silent sit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pointing like children in describing it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then noble friend the next way to controule<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These worldly crosses, is to arme thy soule<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span><span class="i0">With constant patience: and with thoughts as high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As these be lowe, and poore, winged to flye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To that exalted stand, whether yet they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are got with paine, that sit out of the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this ignoble age, which raiseth none<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But such as thinke their black damnation<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">To be a trifle; such, so ill, that when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are aduanc'd, those few poore honest men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That yet are liuing, into search doe runne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To finde what mischiefe they haue lately done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which so preferres them; say thou he doth rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in this base world come what euer shall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hees worth lamenting, that for her doth fall.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord <span class="smcap">Sheffield</span>, <i>drowned in
+<span class="smcap">Hvmber</span></i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Light Sonnets hence, and to loose Louers flie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mournfull Maydens sing an Elegie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On those three <span class="smcap">Sheffields</span>, ouer-whelm'd with waues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose losse the teares of all the Muses craues;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing so full of pitty as this was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thinkes for nothing should not slightly passe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Treble this losse was, why should it not borrowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this Iles treble parts, a treble sorrowe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Fate did this, to let the world to knowe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">That sorrowes which from common causes growe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are not worth mourning for, the losse to beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of one onely sonne, 's not worth one teare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some tender-hearted man, as I, may spend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some drops (perhaps) for a deceased friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some men (perhaps) their Wifes late death may rue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Wifes their Husbands, but such be but fewe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cares that haue vs'd the hearts of men to tuch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So oft, and deepely, will not now be such;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who'll care for loss of maintenance, or place,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Fame, liberty, or of the Princes grace;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><span class="i0">Or sutes in law, by base corruption crost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he shall finde, that this which he hath lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas, is nothing to his, which did lose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three sonnes at once so excellent as those:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, it is feard that this in time may breed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hard hearts in men to their owne naturall seed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in respect of this great losse of theirs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men will scarce mourne the death of their owne heires.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through all this Ile their losse so publique is,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">That euery man doth take them to be his,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as a plague which had beginning there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So catching is, and raigning euery where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That those the farthest off as much doe rue them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As those the most familiarly that knew them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Children with this disaster are wext sage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like to men that strucken are in age;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talke what it is, three children at one time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus to haue drown'd, and in their very prime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, and doe learne to act the same so well,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">That then olde folke, they better can it tell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inuention, oft that Passion vs'd to faine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sorrowes of themselves but slight, and meane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make them seeme great, here it shall not need,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that this Subiect doth so farre exceed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All forc'd Expression, that what Poesie shall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happily thinke to grace it selfe withall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls so belowe it, that it rather borrowes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grace from their griefe, then addeth to their sorrowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sad mischance thus in the losse of three,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">To shewe it selfe the vtmost it could bee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exacting also by the selfe same lawe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vtmost teares that sorrowe had to drawe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All future times hath vtterly preuented<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a more losse, or more to be lamented.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whilst in faire youth they liuely flourish'd here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To their kinde Parents they were onely deere:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But being dead, now euery one doth take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them for their owne, and doe like sorrowe make:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As for their owne begot, as they pretended<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Hope in the issue, which should haue discended<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><span class="i0">From them againe; nor here doth end our sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But those of vs, that shall be borne to morrowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still shall lament them, and when time shall count,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To what vast number passed yeares shall mount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They from their death shall duly reckon so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As from the Deluge, former vs'd to doe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O cruell <i>Humber</i> guilty of their gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I now beleeue more then I did before<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Brittish</i> Story, whence thy name begun<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Of Kingly <i>Humber</i>, an inuading <i>Hun</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thee deuoured, for't is likely thou<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With blood wert Christned, bloud-thirsty till now.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Ouse</i>, the <i>Done</i>, and thou farre clearer <i>Trent</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drowne the <span class="smcap">Sheffields</span> as you gaue consent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall curse the time, that ere you were infus'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very best part of whose soule, and bloud,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Compared with theirs, is viler then your mud.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wherefore paper, doe I idely spend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On those deafe waters to so little end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which, as in an euerlasting booke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our ends are written; O let times rehearse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their fatall losse, in their sad Aniuerse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>To the noble Lady, the Lady I.S. <i>of worldly crosses</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Madame, to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither that I would haue you entertaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time in reading me, which you would spend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I write not to you. Nay, and which is more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My powerfull verses striue not to restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To other ends my Elegie is squar'd.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><span class="i2">Your beauty, sweetnesse, and your gracefull parts<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">That haue drawne many eyes, wonne many hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of me get little, I am so much man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That let them doe their vtmost that they can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will resist their forces: and they be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though great to others, yet not so to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first time I beheld you, I then sawe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That (in it selfe) which had the power to drawe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My stayd affection, and thought to allowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You some deale of my heart; but you have now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Got farre into it, and you haue the skill<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">(For ought I see) to winne vpon me still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your many crosses, as in Fortunes scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how neglectfull you have seem'd to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought you stupid, nor that you had felt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those griefes which (often) I haue scene to melt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another woman into sighes and teares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when in you I haue perceiu'd agen,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">(Noted by me, more then by other men)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How feeling and how sensible you are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of your friends sorrowes, and with how much care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You seeke to cure them, then my selfe I blame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I your patience should so much misname,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who feeles anothers griefe, can feele their owne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When straight me thinkes, I heare your patience say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are you the man that studied <i>Seneca</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Plinies</i> most learned letters; and must I<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Read you a Lecture in Philosophie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'auoid the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'le learne you more, Sir, then your bookes can teach you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of all your sex, yet neuer did I knowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Any that yet so actually could showe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such rules for patience, such an easie way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That who so sees it, shall be forc'd to say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is of this Lady, in an instant learn'd.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span><span class="i0">It is heauens will that you should wronged be<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">By the malicious, that the world might see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Doue-like meekenesse; for had the base scumme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spawne of Fiends, beene in your slander dumbe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your vertue then had perish'd, neuer priz'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that the same you had not exercised;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you had lost the Crowne you haue, and glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor had you beene the subiect of my Story.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst they feele Hell, being damned in their hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their thoughts like Deuils them excruciate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which by your noble suffrings doe torment<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Them with new paines, and giues you this content<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see your soule an Innocent, hath suffred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vp to heauen before your eyes be offred:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your like we in a burning Glasse may see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the Sunnes rayes therein contracted be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bent on some obiect, which is purely white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We finde that colour doth dispierce the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stands vntainted: but if it hath got<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some little sully; or the least small spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then it soon fiers it; so you still remaine<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Free, because in you they can finde no staine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God doth not loue them least, on whom he layes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great'st afflictions; but that he will praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himselfe most in them, and will make them fit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near'st to himselfe who is the Lambe to sit:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For by that touch, like perfect gold he tries them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who are not his, vntill the world denies them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And your example may work such effect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it may be the beginning of a Sect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of patient women; and that many a day<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">All Husbands may for you their Founder pray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor is to me your Innocence the lesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In that I see you striue not to suppresse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their barbarous malice; but your noble heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prepar'd to act so difficult a part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With vnremoued constancie is still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same it was, that of your proper ill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The effect proceeds from your owne selfe the cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like some iust Prince, who to establish lawes,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span><span class="i0">Suffers the breach at his best lou'd to strike,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">To learne the vulgar to endure the like.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You are a Martir thus, nor can you be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lesse to the world so valued by me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If as you haue begun, you still perseuer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be euer good, that I may loue you euer.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>An Elegie vpon the death of the Lady <span class="smcap">Penelope Clifton</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Must I needes write, who's hee that can refuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wants a minde, for her that hath no Muse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next powerfull, to those clouen tongues of fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since I knew ought time neuer did allowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me stuffe fit for an Elegie, till now;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>France</i> and <i>England's</i> <span class="smcap">Henries</span> dy'd, my quill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why, I know not, but it that time lay still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis more then greatnesse that my spirit must raise,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">To obserue custome I vse not to praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On any one from whom she was descended;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That for their fauour I this way should wooe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As some poor wretched things (perhaps) may doe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gaine the end, whereat I onely ayme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If by my freedome, I may giue her fame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Walking then forth being newly vp from bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Sir (quoth one) the Lady <span class="smcap">Clifton's</span> dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, but that reason my sterne rage withstood,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">My hand had sure beene guilty of his blood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If shee be so, must thy rude tongue confesse it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Quoth I) and com'st so coldly to expresse it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shouldst haue giuen a shreeke, to make me feare thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That might haue slaine what euer had beene neere thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shouldst haue com'n like Time with thy scalpe bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in thy hands thou shouldst haue brought thy haire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As seene a spirit, or th'adst beene thunder-strooke,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><span class="i0">And gazing on me so a little space,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Thou shouldst haue shot thine eye balls in my face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then falling at my feet, thou shouldst haue said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O she is gone, and Nature with her dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By that neere Groue, whereas both first and last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw her, not three moneths before shee di'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When (though full Summer gan to vaile her pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that I sawe men leade home ripened Corne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besides aduis'd me well,) I durst haue sworne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lingring yeare, the Autumne had adiourn'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">And the fresh Spring had beene againe return'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her delicacie, louelinesse, and grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such a Summer brauery deckt the place:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now alas, it lookt forlorne and dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where she stood, the fading leaues were shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presenting onely sorrowe to my sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O God (thought I) this is her Embleme right.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sure I thinke it cannot but be thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I to her by prouidence was brought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that the Fates fore-dooming, shee should die,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Shewed me this wondrous Master peece, that I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should sing her Funerall, that the world should know it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That heauen did thinke her worthy of a Poet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hand is fatall, nor doth fortune doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For what it writes, not fire shall ere race out.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand silken Puppets should haue died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in their fulsome Coffins putrified,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere in my lines, you of their names should heare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell the world that such there euer were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose memory shall from the earth decay,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Before those Rags be worne they gaue away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I her god-like features neuer seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore slight Report had tolde me she had beene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hansome Lady, comely, very well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so might I haue died an Infidell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As many doe which neuer did her see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or cannot credit, what she was, by mee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nature, her selfe, that before Art prefers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To goe beyond all our Cosmographers,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><span class="i0">By Charts and Maps exactly that haue showne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">All of this earth that euer can be knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that she would beyond them all descrie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Art could not by any mortall eye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Map of heauen in her rare features drue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that she did so liuely and so true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That any soule but seeing it might sweare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all was perfect heauenly that was there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If euer any Painter were so blest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drawe that face, which so much heau'n exprest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If in his best of skill he did her right,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">I wish it neuer may come in my sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I greatly doubt my faith (weake man) lest I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should to that face commit Idolatry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Death might haue tyth'd her sex, but for this one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, haue ta'n halfe to haue let her alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as their wrinkled temples to supply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cyment them vp with sluttish <i>Mercury</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as vndrest were able to affright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A valiant man approching him by night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death might haue taken such, her end deferd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">Vntill the time she had beene climaterd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she would haue bin at threescore yeares and three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as our best at three and twenty be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With enuie then, he might haue ouerthrowne her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When age nor time had power to ceaze vpon her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But when the vnpittying Fates her end decreed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They to the same did instantly proceed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For well they knew (if she had languish'd so)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As those which hence by naturall causes goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So many prayers, and teares for her had spoken,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">As certainly their Iron lawes had broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had wak'd heau'n, who clearely would haue show'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That change of Kingdomes to her death it ow'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that the world still of her end might thinke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It would haue let some Neighbouring mountaine sinke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the vast Sea it in on vs to cast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As <i>Seuerne</i> did about some fiue yeares past:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or some sterne Comet his curld top to reare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose length should measure halfe our Hemisphere.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><span class="i0">Holding this height, to say some will not sticke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">That now I raue, and am growne lunatique:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You of what sexe so ere you be, you lye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis thou thy selfe is lunatique, not I.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I charge you in her name that now is gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That may coniure you, if you be not stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you no harsh, nor shallow rimes decline,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon that day wherein you shall read mine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as indeed are falsely termed verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will but sit like mothes vpon her herse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor that no child, nor chambermaide, nor page,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Disturbe the Rome, the whilst my sacred rage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In reading is; but whilst you heare it read,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Suppose, before you, that you see her dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The walls about you hung with mournfull blacke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nothing of her funerall to lacke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when this period giues you leaue to pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cast vp your eyes, and sigh for my applause.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Vpon the noble Lady <span class="smcap">Astons</span> <i>departure for Spaine</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I many a time haue greatly marueil'd, why<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men say, their friends depart when as they die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How well that word, a dying, doth expresse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I did not know (I freely must confesse,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till her departure: for whose missed sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am enforc'd this Elegy to write:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But since resistlesse fate will haue it so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she from hence must to <i>Iberia</i> goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my weak wishes can her not detaine,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">I will of heauen in policy complaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it so long her trauell should adiourne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoping thereby to hasten her returne.<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">The witches of the Northerly legions sell windes to passengers.</div>
+<span class="i2">Can those of <i>Norway</i> for their wage procure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till from aboard the wished land men see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fetch the harbour, where they long to be,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span><span class="i0">Can they by charmes doe this and cannot I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who am the Priest of <i>Ph&#339;bus</i>, and so hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sit in his fauour, winne the Poets god,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">To send swift <i>Hermes</i> with his snaky rod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To <i>&AElig;olus</i> Caue, commanding him with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from that howre, wherein shee takes the seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature bring on the quiet <i>Halcion</i> dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in that hower that bird begin her nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay at that very instant, that long rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May seize on <i>Neptune</i>, who may still repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let that bird nere till that hower disclose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein she landeth, and for all that space<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Be not a wrinkle seene on <i>Thetis</i> face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely so much breath with a gentle gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As by the easy swelling of her saile,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">The nearest Harbour of <i>Spaine</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">May at *<i>Sebastians</i> safely set her downe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, with her goodnes she may blesse the towne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some Pirate, and grimme <i>Neptune</i> thou should'st be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Executioner, or what is his worse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them be at ease in some safe harbour set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where with much profit they may vent their wealth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they haue got by villany and stealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rather great <i>Neptune</i>, then when thou dost raue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou once shouldst wet her saile but with a waue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seize the ship wherein she is to fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">And tell those Sea-thiefes, that once such they were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they are now, till they assaid to rape<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">An Ile for the abundance of wine supposed to be the habitation of <i>Bachus</i>.</div>
+<span class="i0">Grape-crowned <i>Bacchus</i> in a striplings shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That came aboard them, and would faine haue saild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To vine-spread *<i>Naxus</i> but that him they faild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And warnd them how they passengers inuade.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span><span class="i2">Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Autumne is come, there be no flowers to grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea from that place respire, to which she goes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But <i>Boreas</i> and yee Esterne windes arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To send her soon to <i>Spaine</i>, but be precise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in your aide you seeme not still so sterne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we a summer should no more discerne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For till that here againe, I may her see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will be winter all the yeare with mee.<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Castor</i> and <i>Polox</i> begot by <i>Ioue</i> on <i>Leda</i> in the forme of a Swanne. A constellation ominous to Mariners.</div>
+<span class="i2">Ye swanne-begotten lonely brother-stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So oft auspicious to poore Mariners,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye twin-bred lights of louely <i>Leda's</i> brood,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0"><i>Ioues</i> egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be her warrant from all future feare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May neuer time by wormes, consume thy wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till they for reliques be in temples plac't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maist thou be ranged with that mighty Arke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein iust <i>Noah</i> did all the world imbarque,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that which after <i>Troyes</i> so famous wracke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">From ten yeares trauell brought <i>Vlisses</i> backe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Argo which to <i>Colchos</i> went from <i>Greece</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in her botome brought the goulden fleece<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder braue <i>Iason</i>; or that same of <i>Drake</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein he did his famous voyage make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the world; or <i>Candishes</i> that went<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As far as his, about the Continent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yee milde winds that now I doe implore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not once to raise the least sand on the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor once on forfait of your selues respire:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">When once the time is come of her retire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If then it please you, but to doe your due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What for these windes I did, Ile doe for you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My pen shall prooue you to haue dietyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell the storyes of your weale and woe,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><span class="i0">Ile prooue what profit to the earth you bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how t'is you that welcome in the spring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">The time shall be kept holy, when you blow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O blessed winds! your will that it may be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To send health to her, and her home to me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>To my most dearely-loued friend <span class="smcap">Henery Reynolds</span> Esquire, of
+<i>Poets &amp; Poesie</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">My dearely loued friend how oft haue we,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In winter evenings (meaning to be free,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some well-chosen place vs'd to retire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there with moderate meate, and wine, and fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue past the howres contentedly with chat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now talk of this, and then discours'd of that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spoke our owne verses 'twixt our selves, if not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Other mens lines, which we by chance had got,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or some Stage pieces famous long before,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Of which your happy memory had store;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I remember you much pleased were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those who liued long agoe to heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well as of those, of these latter times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who have inricht our language with their rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in succession, how still vp they grew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which is the subiect, that I now pursue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For from my cradle, (you must know that) I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when that once <i>Pueriles</i> I had read,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">And newly had my <i>Cato</i> construed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my small selfe I greatly marueil'd then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amonst all other, what strange kinde of men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Poets were; And pleased with the name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my milde Tutor merrily I came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(For I was then a proper goodly page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much like a Pigmy, scarse ten yeares of age)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clasping my slender armes about his thigh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O my deare master! cannot you (quoth I)<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><span class="i0">Make me a Poet, doe it if you can,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">And you shall see, Ile quickly bee a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who me thus answered smiling, boy quoth he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you'le not play the wag, but I may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You ply your learning, I will shortly read<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some Poets to you; <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> be my speed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too't hard went I, when shortly he began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And first read to me honest <i>Mantuan</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then <i>Virgils Eglogues</i>, being entred thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thought I straight had mounted <i>Pegasus</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his full Careere could make him stop,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">And bound vpon <i>Parnassus'</i> by-clift top.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I scornd your ballet then though it were done<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had for Finis, <i>William Elderton</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soft, in sporting with this childish iest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I from my subiect haue too long digrest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to the matter that we tooke in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ioue</i> and <i>Apollo</i> for the <i>Muses</i> stand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then noble <i>Chaucer</i>, in those former times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first inrich'd our <i>English</i> with his rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And was the first of ours, that euer brake,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Into the <i>Muses</i> treasure, and first spake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In weighty numbers, deluing in the Mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of perfect knowledge, which he could refine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And coyne for currant, and as much as then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>English</i> language could expresse to men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He made it doe; and by his wondrous skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaue vs much light from his abundant quill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And honest <i>Gower</i>, who in respect of him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had only sipt at <i>Aganippas</i> brimme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though in yeares this last was him before,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Yet fell he far short of the others store.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When after those, foure ages very neare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They with the <i>Muses</i> which conuersed, were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Princely <i>Surrey</i>, early in the time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Eight <i>Henry</i>, who was then the prime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>Englands</i> noble youth; with him there came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Wyat</i>; with reuerence whom we still doe name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst our Poets, <i>Brian</i> had a share<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the two former, which accompted are<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span><span class="i0">That times best makers, and the authors were<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Of those small poems, which the title beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of songs and sonnets, wherein oft they hit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On many dainty passages of wit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Gascoine</i> and <i>Churchyard</i> after them againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the beginning of <i>Eliza's</i> raine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Accoumpted were great Meterers many a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not inspired with braue fier, had they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liu'd but a little longer, they had seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their works before them to have buried beene.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Graue morrall <i>Spencer</i> after these came on<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Then whom I am perswaded there was none<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the blind <i>Bard</i> his <i>Iliads</i> vp did make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fitter a taske like that to vndertake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To set downe boldly, brauely to inuent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all high knowledge, surely excellent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The noble <i>Sidney</i> with this last arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That <i>Heroe</i> for numbers, and for Prose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That throughly pac'd our language as to show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The plenteous <i>English</i> hand in hand might goe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With <i>Greek</i> or <i>Latine</i>, and did first reduce<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">Our tongue from <i>Lillies</i> writing then in vse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of fishes, Flyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Playing with words, and idle Similies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As th' <i>English</i>, Apes and very Zanies be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of euery thing, that they doe heare and see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So imitating his ridiculous tricks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They spake and writ, all like meere lunatiques.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then <i>Warner</i> though his lines were not so trim'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet his Poem so exactly lim'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And neatly ioynted, but the Criticke may<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Easily reprooue him, yet thus let me say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my old friend, some passages there be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In him, which I protest haue taken me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With almost wonder, so fine, cleere, and new<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As yet they haue bin equalled by few.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Neat <i>Marlow</i> bathed in the <i>Thespian</i> springs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had in him those braue translunary things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the first Poets had, his raptures were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All ayre, and fire, which made his verses cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><span class="i0">For that fine madnes still he did retaine,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">Which rightly should possesse a Poets braine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And surely <i>Nashe</i>, though he a Proser were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A branch of Lawrell yet deserues to beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sharply <i>Satirick</i> was he, and that way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He went, since that his being, to this day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Few haue attempted, and I surely thinke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those wordes shall hardly be set downe with inke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall scorch and blast, so as his could, where he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would inflict vengeance, and be it said of thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Shakespeare</i>, thou hadst as smooth a Comicke vaine,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Fitting the socke, and in thy naturall braine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As strong conception, and as Cleere a rage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As any one that trafiqu'd with the stage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Amongst these <i>Samuel Daniel</i>, whom if I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May spake of, but to sensure doe denie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onely haue heard some wisemen him rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be too much <i>Historian</i> in verse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His rimes were smooth, his meeters well did close<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet his maner better fitted prose:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next these, learn'd <i>Johnson</i>, in this List I bring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">Who had drunke deepe of the <i>Pierian</i> spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And long was Lord here of the Theater,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether in Poems rightly dramatique,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong <i>Seneca</i> or <i>Plautus</i>, he or they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Others againe here liued in my dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That haue of vs deserued no lesse praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For their translations, then the daintiest wit<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">That on <i>Parnassus</i> thinks, he highst doth sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a chaire may mongst the Muses call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the most curious maker of them all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As reuerent <i>Chapman</i>, who hath brought to vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mus&aelig;us</i>, <i>Homer</i> and <i>Hesiodus</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the Greeke; and by his skill hath reard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them to that height, and to our tongue endear'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were those Poets at this day aliue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see their bookes thus with vs to suruiue,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><span class="i0">They would think, hauing neglected them so long,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">They had bin written in the <i>English</i> tongue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And <i>Siluester</i> who from the <i>French</i> more weake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made <i>Bartas</i> of his sixe dayes labour speake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In naturall <i>English</i>, who, had he there stayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had done well, and neuer had bewraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His owne inuention, to haue bin so poore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who still wrote lesse, in striuing to write more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then dainty <i>Sands</i> that hath to <i>English</i> done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smooth sliding <i>Ouid</i>, and hath made him run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With so much sweetnesse and vnusuall grace,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0">As though the neatnesse of the <i>English</i> pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should tell the Ietting <i>Lattine</i> that it came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But slowly after, as though stiff and lame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So <i>Scotland</i> sent vs hither, for our owne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That man, whose name I euer would haue knowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stand by mine, that most ingenious knight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My <i>Alexander</i>, to whom in his right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I want extreamely, yet in speaking thus<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I doe but shew the loue, that was twixt vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not his numbers which were braue and hie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">So like his mind, was his clear Poesie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my deare <i>Drummond</i> to whom much I owe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his much loue, and proud I was to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His poesie, for which two worthy men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I <i>Menstry</i> still shall loue, and <i>Hauthorne-den</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the two <i>Beamounts</i> and my <i>Browne</i> arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My deare companions whom I freely chose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My bosome friends; and in their seuerall wayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rightly borne Poets, and in these last dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men of much note, and no lesse nobler parts,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0">Such as haue freely tould to me their hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I have mine to them; but if you shall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say in your knowledge, that these be not all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue writ in numbers, be inform'd that I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Only my selfe, to these few men doe tye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose works oft printed, set on euery post,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To publique censure subiect haue bin most;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For such whose poems, be they nere so rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In priuate chambers, that incloistered are,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><span class="i0">And by transcription daintyly must goe;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">As though the world vnworthy were to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their rich composures, let those men that keepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These wonderous reliques in their iudgement deepe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cry them vp so, let such Peeces bee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spoke of by those that shall come after me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I passe not for them: nor doe meane to run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In quest of these, that them applause haue wonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon our Stages in these latter dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That are so many, let them haue their bayes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That doe deserue it; let those wits that haunt<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0">Those publique circuits, let them freely chaunt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their fine Composures, and their praise pursue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so my deare friend, for this time adue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Vpon the death of his incomparable <i>friend Sir</i> <span class="smcap">Henry Raynsford</span>
+<i>of</i> <span class="smcap">Clifford</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Could there be words found to expresse my losse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There were some hope, that this my heauy crosse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might be sustained, and that wretched I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might once finde comfort: but to haue him die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Past all degrees that was so deare to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As but comparing him with others, hee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was such a thing, as if some Power should say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'le take Man on me, to shew men the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What a friend should be. But words come so short<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Of him, that when I thus would him report,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am vndone, and hauing nought to say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mad at my selfe, I throwe my penne away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beate my breast, that there should be a woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So high, that words cannot attaine thereto.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'is strange that I from my abundant breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who others sorrowes haue so well exprest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet I by this in little time am growne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So poore, that I want to expresse mine owne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thinke the Fates perceiuing me to beare<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">My worldly crosses without wit or feare:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span><span class="i0">Nay, with what scorne I euer haue derided,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those plagues that for me they haue oft prouided,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drew them to counsaile; nay, conspired rather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in this businesse laid their heads together<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To finde some one plague, that might me subuert,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at an instant breake my stubborne heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They did indeede, and onely to this end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They tooke from me this more then man, or friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hard-hearted Fates, your worst thus haue you done,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Then let vs see what lastly you haue wonne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By this your rigour, in a course so strict,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why see, I beare all that you can inflict:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hee from heauen your poore reuenge to view;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laments my losse of him, but laughes at you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst I against you execrations breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus are you scorn'd aboue, and curst beneath.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Me thinks that man (vnhappy though he be)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is now thrice happy in respect of me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hath no friend; for that in hauing none<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">He is not stirr'd as I am, to bemone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My miserable losse, who but in vaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May euer looke to find the like againe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This more then mine own selfe; that who had seene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His care of me where euer I had beene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had not knowne his actiue spirit before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon some braue thing working euermore:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would haue sworne that to no other end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had been borne: but onely for my friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had been happy if nice Nature had<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">(Since now my lucke falls out to be so bad)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made me vnperfect, either of so soft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yeelding temper, that lamenting oft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I into teares my mournefull selfe might melt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or else so dull, my losse not to haue felt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I haue by my too deare experience bought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fooles and mad men, whom I euer thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The most vnhappy, are in deede not so:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore I lesse pittie can bestowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Since that my sence, my sorrowe so can sound)<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">On those in Bedlam that are bound,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span><span class="i0">And scarce feele scourging; and when as I meete<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A foole by Children followed in the Streete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thinke I (poor wretch) thou from my griefe art free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor couldst thou feele it, should it light on thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that I am a <i>Christian</i>, and am taught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By him who with his precious bloud me bought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meekly like him my crosses to endure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else would they please me well, that for their cure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When as they feele their conscience doth them brand,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Vpon themselues dare lay a violent hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not suffering Fortune with her murdering knife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand like a Surgeon working on the life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deserting this part, that ioynt off to cut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shewing that Artire, ripping then that gut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst the dull beastly World with her squint eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is to behold the strange Anatomie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am persuaded that those which we read<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be man-haters, were not so indeed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Athenian <i>Timon</i>, and beside him more<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Of which the <i>Latines</i>, as the <i>Greekes</i> haue store;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor not did they all humane manners hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet maligne mans dignity and state.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But finding our fraile life how euery day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It like a bubble vanisheth away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this condition did mankinde detest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Farre more incertaine then that of the beast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sure heauen doth hate this world and deadly too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else as it hath done it would neuer doe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if it did not, it would ne're permit<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">A man of so much vertue, knowledge, wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of naturall goodnesse, supernaturall grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose courses when considerately I trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into their ends, and diligently looke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They serue me for Oeconomike booke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By which this rough world I not onely stemme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In goodnesse but grow learn'd by reading them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O pardon me, it my much sorrow is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes me vse this long Parenthesis;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had heauen this world not hated as I say,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">In height of life it had not, tane away<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><span class="i0">A spirit so braue, so actiue, and so free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That such a one who would not wish to bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rather then weare a Crowne, by Armes though got,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So fast a friend, so true a Patriot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In things concerning both the worlds so wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besides so liberall of his faculties,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That where he would his industrie bestowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would haue done, e're one could think to doe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more talke of the working of the Starres,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">For plenty, scarcenesse, or for peace, or Warres:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are impostures, therefore get you hence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all your Planets, and their influence.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more doe I care into them to looke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then in some idle Chiromantick booke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shewing the line of life, and <i>Venus</i> mount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet no more would I of them account,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then what that tells me, since what that so ere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might promise man long life: of care and feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By nature freed, a conscience cleare, and quiet,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">His health, his constitution, and his diet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Counting a hundred, fourscore at the least,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Propt vp by prayers, yet more to be encreast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these should faile, and in his fiftieth yeare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He should expire, henceforth let none be deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me at all, lest for my haplesse sake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before their time heauen from the world them take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaue me wretched to lament their ends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I doe his, who was a thousand friends.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Vpon the death of the Lady <span class="smcap">Olive Stanhope</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canst thou depart and be forgotten so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Stanhope</span> thou canst not, no deare <span class="smcap">Stanhope</span>, no:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in despight of death the world shall see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Muse which so much graced was by thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can black Obliuion vtterly out-braue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And set thee vp aboue thy silent Graue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I meruail'd much the <i>Derbian</i> Nimphes were dumbe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or of those Muses, what should be become,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That of all those, the mountaines there among,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Not one this while thy <i>Epicedium</i>sung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But so it is, when they of thee were reft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They all those hills, and all those Riuers left,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sullen growne, their former seates remoue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both from cleare <i>Darwin</i>, and from siluer <i>Doue</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for thy losse, they greeued are so sore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they haue vow'd they will come there no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But leaue thy losse to me, that I should rue thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnhappy man, and yet I neuer knew thee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thou didst loue vnseene, so did I thee,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">It was our spirits that lou'd then and not wee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therefore without profanenesse I may call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loue betwixt vs, loue spirituall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that which thou affectedst was so true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As that thereby thee perfectly I knew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now that spirit, which thou so lou'dst, still mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall offer this a Sacrifice to thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reare this Trophe, which for thee shall last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When this most beastly Iron age is past;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am perswaded, whilst we two haue slept,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Our soules haue met, and to each other wept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That destenie so strongly should forbid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our bodies to conuerse as oft they did:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For certainly refined spirits doe know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As doe the Angels, and doe here belowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take the fruition of that endlesse blisse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As those aboue doe, and what each one is.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They see diuinely, and as those there doe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know each others wills, so soules can too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About that dismall time, thy spirit hence flew,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Mine much was troubled, but why, I not knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dull and sleepy sounds, it often left me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As of it selfe it ment to haue bereft me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I asked it what the cause was, of such woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or what it might be, that might vexe it so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it was deafe, nor my demand would here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when that ill newes came, to touch mine eare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I straightwayes found this watchfull sperit of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Troubled had bin to take it leaue of thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For when fate found, what nature late had done,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">How much from heauen, she for the earth had won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thy deare birth; said, that it could not be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In so yong yeares, what it perceiu'd in thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But nature sure, had fram'd thee long before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as Rich Misers of their mighty store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keepe the most precious longst, so from times past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She onely had reserued thee till the last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So did thy wisedome, not thy youth behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tooke thee hence, in thinking thou wast old.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy shape and beauty often haue to me<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Bin highly praysed, which I thought might be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truely reported, for a spirit so braue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which heauen to thee so bountifully gaue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature could not in recompence againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In some rich lodging but to entertaine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let not the world report then, that the Peake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but a rude place only vast and bleake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nothing hath to boast of but her Lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she can say that happily she bred<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thee, and when she shall of her wonders tell<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Wherein she doth all other Tracts excell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let her account thee greatst, and still to time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the rest, accord thee for the prime.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>To Master <span class="smcap">William Ieffreys</span>, Chaplaine to the Lord Ambassa<i>dour
+in Spaine</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">My noble friend, you challenge me to write<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To you in verse, and often you recite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My promise to you, and to send you newes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As 'tis a thing I very seldome vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I must write of State, if to <i>Madrid</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing our Proclamations here forbid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that word State such Latitude doth beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it may make me very well to feare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write, nay speake at all, these let you know<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Your power on me, yet not that I will showe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loue I beare you, in that lofty height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So cleere expression, or such words of weight,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span><span class="i0">As into <i>Spanish</i> if they were translated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might make the Poets of that Realme amated;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet these my least were, but that you extort<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These numbers from me, when I should report<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In home-spunne prose, in good plaine honest words<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The newes our wofull <i>England</i> vs affords.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Muses here sit sad, and mute the while<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">A sort of swine vnseasonably defile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those sacred springs, which from the by-clift hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dropt their pure <i>Nectar</i> into euery quill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this with State, I hope I doe not deale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This onely tends the Muses common-weale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What canst thou hope, or looke for from his pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who liues with beasts, though in the shapes of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what a poore few are we honest still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dare to be so, when all the world is ill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I finde this age of our markt with this Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">That honest men are still precipitate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder base villaines, which till th' earth can vent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This her last brood, and wholly hath them spent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be so, then in reuolution shall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vertue againe arise by vices fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that shall I not see, neither will I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maintaine this, as one doth a Prophesie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That our King <i>Iames</i> to <i>Rome</i> shall surely goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from his chaire the <i>Pope</i> shall ouerthrow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But O this world is so giuen vp to hell,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">That as the old Giants, which did once rebell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the Gods, so this now-liuing race<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dare sin, yet stand, and Ieere heauen in the face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But soft my Muse, and make a little stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surely thou art not rightly in thy way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my good <i>Ieffrayes</i> was not I about<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To write, and see, I suddainely am out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is pure <i>Satire</i>, that thou speak'st, and I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was first in hand to write an Elegie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell my countreys shame I not delight.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">But doe bemoane 't I am no <i>Democrite</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O God, though Vertue mightily doe grieue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all this world, yet will I not beleeue<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span><span class="i0">But that shees faire and louely, and that she<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So to the period of the world shall be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else had she beene forsaken (sure) of all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that so many sundry mischiefes fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon her dayly, and so many take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armes vp against her, as it well might make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her to forsake her nature, and behind,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">To leaue no step for future time to find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As she had neuer beene, for he that now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can doe her most disgrace, him they alow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The times chiefe Champion, and he is the man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prize, and Palme that absolutely wanne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For where Kings Clossets her free seat hath bin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She neere the Lodge, not suffered is to Inne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ignorance against her stands in state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like some great porter at a Pallace gate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So dull and barbarous lately are we growne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">And there are some this slauery that haue sowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That for mans knowledge it enough doth make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he can learne, to read an Almanacke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By whom that trash of <i>Amadis de Gaule</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is held an author most authenticall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And things we haue like Noblemen that be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In little time, which I haue hope to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon their foot-clothes, as the streets they ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To haue their hornebookes at their girdles ti'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all their superfluity of spite<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">On vertues hand-maid Poesy doth light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to extirpe her all their plots they lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to her ruine they shall misse the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his alone the Monuments of wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aboue the rage of Tyrants that doe sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from their strength, not one himselfe can saue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they shall tryumph o'r his hated graue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In my conceipt, friend, thou didst neuer see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A righter Madman then thou hast of me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now as <i>Elegiack</i> I bewaile<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">These poor base times; then suddainely I raile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And am <i>Satirick</i>, not that I inforce<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My selfe to be so, but euen as remorse,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class="i0">Or hate, in the proud fulnesse of their hight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Master my fancy, iust so doe I write.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But gentle friend as soone shall I behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That stone of which so many haue vs tould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Yet neuer any to this day could make)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great <i>Elixar</i> or to vndertake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Rose-crosse</i> knowledge which is much like that<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">A Tarrying-iron for fooles to labour at,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As euer after I may hope to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(A plague vpon this beastly world for me,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wit so respected as it was of yore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if hereafter any it restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It must be those that yet for many a yeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be vnborne that must inhabit here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And such in vertue as shall be asham'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almost to heare their ignorant Grandsires nam'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With whom so many noble spirits then liu'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">That were by them of all reward depriu'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My noble friend, I would I might haue quit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This age of these, and that I might haue writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before all other, how much the braue pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had here bin honoured of the <i>English</i> men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goodnesse and knowledge, held by them in prise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How hatefull to them Ignorance and vice;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it falls out the contrary is true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so my <i>Ieffreyes</i> for this time adue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Vpon the death of Mistris <span class="smcap">Elianor Fallowfield</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Accursed Death, what neede was there at all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thee, or who to councell thee did call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The subiect whereupon these lines I spend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thee was most vnfit, her timelesse end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too soone thou wroughtst, too neere her thou didst stand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shouldst haue lent thy leane and meager hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To those who oft the help thereof beseech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And can be cured by no other Leech.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In this wide world how many thousands be,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">That hauing past fourescore, doe call for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span><span class="i0">The wretched debtor in the Iayle that lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet cannot this his Creditor suffice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth woe thee oft with many a sigh and teare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou art coy, and him thou wilt not heare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Captiue slaue that tuggeth at the Oares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vnderneath the Bulls tough sinewes rores,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begs at thy hand, in lieu of all his paines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou wouldst but release him of his chaines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou a niggard listenest not thereto,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">With one short gaspe which thou mightst easily do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou couldst come to her ere there was neede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euen at once destroy both flower and seede.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But cruell Death if thou so barbarous be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To those so goodly, and so young as shee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in their teeming thou wilt shew thy spight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either from marriage thou wilt Maides affright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or in their wedlock, Widowes liues to chuse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Husbands bed, and vtterly refuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fearing conception; so shalt thou thereby<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Extirpate mankinde by thy cruelty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If after direfull Tragedy thou thirst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Extinguish <i>Himens</i> Torches at the first;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Build Funerall pyles, and the sad pauement strewe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With mournfull Cypresse, and the pale-leau'd Yewe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away with Roses, Myrtle, and with Bayes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ensignes of mirth, and iollity, as these;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuer at Nuptials vsed be againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But from the Church the new Bride entertaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With weeping <i>Nenias</i>, euer and among,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">As at departings be sad <i>Requiems</i> song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Lucina</i> by th' olde Poets that wert sayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women in Childe-birth euermore to ayde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because thine Altars, long haue layne neglected:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor as they should, thy holy fiers reflected<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon thy Temples, therefore thou doest flye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wilt not helpe them in necessitie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thinking vpon thee, I doe often muse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether for thy deare sake I should accuse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature or Fortune, Fortune then I blame,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">And doe impute it as her greatest shame,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class="i0">To hast thy timelesse end, and soone agen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I vexe at Nature, nay I curse her then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That at the time of need she was no stronger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we by her might haue enioy'd thee longer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But whilst of these I with my selfe debate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I call to minde how flinty-hearted Fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seaseth the olde, the young, the faire, the foule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No thing on earth can Destinie controule:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet that Fate which hath of life bereft thee,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Still to eternall memory hath left thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which thou enioy'st by the deserued breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That many a great one hath not after death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/02.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/06.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>NIMPHIDIA</h2>
+
+
+<h4>THE COVRT OF FAYRIE</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Olde <span class="smcap">Chavcer</span> doth of <i>Topas</i> tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mad <span class="smcap">Rablais</span> of Pantagruell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A latter third of <i>Dowsabell</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With such poore trifles playing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Others the like haue laboured at<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some of this thing, and some of that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many of they know not what,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But that they must be saying.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Another sort there bee, that will<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Be talking of the Fayries still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor neuer can they have their fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As they were wedded to them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Tales of them their thirst can slake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So much delight therein they take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some strange thing they fame would make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Knew they the way to doe them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then since no Muse hath bin so bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or of the Later, or the ould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Eluish secrets to vnfold,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Which lye from others reading,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My actiue Muse to light shall bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The court of that proud Fayry King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell there, of the Reuelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Ioue</i> prosper my proceeding.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thou <span class="smcap">Nimphidia</span> gentle F<i>ay</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which meeting me vpon the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These secrets didst to me bewray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which now I am in telling:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span><span class="i0">My pretty light fantastick mayde,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">I here inuoke thee to my ayde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I may speake what thou hast sayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In numbers smoothly swelling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This Pallace standeth in the Ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Nigromancie placed there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it no Tempests needs to feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which way so ere it blow it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thence the <i>Fayrie</i> can as soone<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">Passe to the earth below it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Walls of Spiders legs are made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well mortized and finely layd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was the master of his Trade<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It curiously that builded:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Windowes of the eyes of Cats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the Roofe, instead of Slats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is couer'd with the skinns of Batts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Mooneshine that are guilded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hence <i>Oberon</i> him sport to make,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">(Their rest when weary mortalls take)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none but onely <i>Fayries</i> wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Desendeth for his pleasure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Mab</i> his meerry Queene by night<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bestrids young Folks that lye vpright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(In elder Times the <i>Mare</i> that hight)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which plagues them out of measure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hence Shaddowes, seeming Idle shapes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of little frisking Elues and Apes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Earth doe make their wanton skapes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">As hope of pastime hasts them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which maydes think on the Hearth they see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Fyers well nere consumed be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their daunsing Hayes by two and three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Iust as their Fancy casts them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><span class="i0">These make our Girles their sluttery rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By pinching them both blacke and blew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And put a penny in their shue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The house for cleanely sweeping:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in their courses make that Round,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">In Meadowes, and in Marshes found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of them so call'd the <i>Fayrie</i> ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of which they haue the keeping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus when a Childe haps to be gott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which after prooues an Ideott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Folke perceiue it thriueth not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The fault therein to smother:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some silly doting brainlesse Calfe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That vnderstands things by the halfe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say that the <i>Fayrie</i> left this Aulfe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i2">And tooke away the other.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But listen and I shall you tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A chance in <i>Fayrie</i> that befell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which certainly may please some well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Loue and Armes delighting:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>Oberon</i> that Iealous grewe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of one of his owne <i>Fayrie</i> crue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too well (he fear'd) his Queene that knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His loue but ill requiting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Pigwiggen</i> was this <i>Fayrie</i> knight,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">One wondrous gratious in the sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of faire Queene <i>Mab</i>, which day and night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He amorously obserued;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which made king <i>Oberon</i> suspect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Seruice tooke too good effect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His saucinesse, and often checkt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And could have wisht him starued.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Pigwiggen</i> gladly would commend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some token to queene <i>Mab</i> to send,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If Sea, or Land, him ought could lend,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i2">Were worthy of her wearing:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span><span class="i0">At length this Louer doth deuise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Bracelett made of Emmotts eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing he thought that shee would prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No whitt her state impayring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And to the Queene a Letter writes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he most curiously endites,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coniuring her by all the rites<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of loue, she would be pleased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To meete him her true Seruant, where<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">They might without suspect or feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Themselues to one another cleare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And haue their poore hearts eased.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At mid-night the appointed hower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the Queene a fitting bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Quoth he) is that faire Cowslip flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On <i>Hipcut</i> hill that groweth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all your Trayne there's not a <i>Fay</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euer went to gather May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she hath made it in her way,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i2">The tallest there that groweth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When by <i>Tom Thum</i> a Fayrie Page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sent it, and doth him engage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By promise of a mighty wage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It secretly to carrie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which done, the Queene her maydes doth call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bids them to be ready all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She would goe see her Summer Hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She could no longer tarrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her Chariot ready straight is made,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">Each thing therein is fitting layde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she by nothing might be stayde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For naught must be her letting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Foure nimble Gnats the Horses were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Harnasses of Gossamere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flye Cranion her Chariottere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vpon the Coach-box getting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span><span class="i0">Her Chariot of a Snayles fine shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which for the colours did excell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faire Queene <i>Mab</i>, becomming well,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i2">So liuely was the limming:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The seate the soft wooll of the Bee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The couer, (gallantly to see)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wing of a pyde Butterflee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I trowe t'was simple trimming.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wheeles compos'd of Crickets bones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And daintily made for the nonce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For feare of ratling on the stones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Thistle-downe they shod it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all her Maydens much did feare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">If <i>Oberon</i> had chanc'd to heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That <i>Mab</i> his Queene should haue bin there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He would not haue aboad it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She mounts her Chariot with a trice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor would she stay for no advice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill her Maydes that were so nice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To wayte on her were fitted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ranne her selfe away alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which when they heard there was not one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But hasted after to be gone,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i2">As she had beene diswitted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Hop</i>, and <i>Mop</i>, and <i>Drop</i> so cleare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Pip</i>, and <i>Trip</i>, and <i>Skip</i> that were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To <i>Mab</i> their Soueraigne euer deare:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her speciall Maydes of Honour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Fib</i>, and <i>Tib</i>, and <i>Pinck</i>, and <i>Pin</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tick</i>, and <i>Quick</i>, and <i>Iill</i>, and <i>Iin</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tit</i>, and <i>Nit</i>, and <i>Wap</i>, and <i>Win</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Trayne that wayte vpon her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vpon a Grashopper they got,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">And what with Amble, and with Trot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hedge nor ditch they spared not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But after her they hie them.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span><span class="i0">A Cobweb ouer them they throw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shield the winde if it should blowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Themselues they wisely could bestowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lest any should espie them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But let vs leaue Queene <i>Mab</i> a while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through many a gate, o'r many a stile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That now had gotten by this wile,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i2">Her deare <i>Pigwiggin</i> kissing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell how <i>Oberon</i> doth fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who grew as mad as any Hare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he had sought each place with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And found his Queene was missing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By grisly <i>Pluto</i> he doth sweare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He rent his cloths, and tore his haire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as he runneth, here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An Acorne cup he greeteth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soone he taketh by the stalke<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">About his head he lets it walke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor doth he any creature balke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But lays on all he meeteth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The <i>Thuskan</i> Poet doth aduance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The franticke <i>Paladine</i> of France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those more ancient doe inhaunce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Alcides</i> in his fury.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others <i>Aiax Telamon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to this time there hath bin non,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Bedlam as our <i>Oberon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i2">Of which I dare assure you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And first encountring with a waspe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He in his armes the Fly doth claspe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though his breath he forth would graspe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Him for Pigwiggen taking:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is my wife thou Rogue, quoth he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Pigwiggen</i>, she is come to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Restore her, or thou dy'st by me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereat the poore waspe quaking,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><span class="i0">Cryes, <i>Oberon</i>, great <i>Fayrie</i> King,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0">Content thee I am no such thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am a Waspe behold my sting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At which the <i>Fayrie</i> started:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When soone away the Waspe doth goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore wretch was neuer frighted so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thought his wings were much to slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'rioyd, they so were parted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He next vpon a Glow-worme light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(You must suppose it now was night),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which for her hinder part was bright,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i2">He tooke to be a Deuill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And furiously doth her assaile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For carrying fier in her taile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thrasht her rough coat with his flayle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mad King fear'd no euill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O quoth the <i>Gloworme</i> hold thy hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou puisant King of <i>Fayrie</i> land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy mighty stroaks who may withstand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hould, or of life despaire I:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Together then her selfe doth roule,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">And tumbling downe into a hole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She seem'd as black as any Cole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which vext away the <i>Fayrie</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From thence he ran into a Hiue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the Bees he letteth driue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And downe their Coombes begins to riue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All likely to haue spoyled:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which with their Waxe his face besmeard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with their Honey daub'd his Beard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It would haue made a man afeard,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i2">To see how he was moyled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A new Aduenture him betides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He mett an Ant, which he bestrides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And post thereon away he rides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which with his haste doth stumble;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span><span class="i0">And came full ouer on her snowte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her heels so threw the dirt about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she by no meanes could get out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But ouer him doth tumble.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And being in this piteous case,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i0">And all be-slurried head and face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On runs he in this Wild-goose chase<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As here, and there, he rambles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Halfe blinde, against a molehill hit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a Mountaine taking it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all he was out of his wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet to the top he scrambles.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And being gotten to the top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet there himselfe he could not stop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But downe on th' other side doth chop,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>260</span><span class="i2">And to the foot came rumbling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that the Grubs therein that bred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hearing such turmoyle ouer head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thought surely they had all bin dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So fearefull was the Iumbling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And falling downe into a Lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which him vp to the neck doth take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His fury somewhat it doth slake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He calleth for a Ferry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where you may some recouery note,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>270</span><span class="i0">What was his Club he made his Boate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his Oaken Cup doth float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As safe as in a Wherry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men talke of the Aduentures strange,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>Don Quishott</i>, and of their change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through which he Armed oft did range,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of <i>Sancha Panchas</i> trauell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But should a man tell euery thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Done by this franticke <i>Fayrie</i> king.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And them in lofty numbers sing<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>280</span><span class="i2">It well his wits might grauell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><span class="i0">Scarse set on shore, but therewithall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He meeteth <i>Pucke</i>, which most men call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hobgoblin</i>, and on him doth fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With words from frenzy spoken;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoh, hoh, quoth <i>Hob</i>, God saue thy grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who drest thee in this pitteous case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thus that spoild my soueraignes face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I would his necke were broken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This <i>Puck</i> seemes but a dreaming dolt,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>290</span><span class="i0">Still walking like a ragged Colt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft out of a Bush doth bolt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of purpose to deceiue vs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leading vs makes vs to stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long Winters nights out of the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when we stick in mire and clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Hob</i> doth with laughter leaue vs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Deare <i>Puck</i> (quoth he) my wife is gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ere thou lou'st King <i>Oberon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let euery thing but this alone<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>300</span><span class="i2">With vengeance, and pursue her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bring her to me aliue or dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or that vilde thief, <i>Pigwiggins</i> head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That villaine hath defil'd my bed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He to this folly drew her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Quoth <i>Puck</i>, My Liege Ile neuer lin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I will thorough thicke and thinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill at length I bring her in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My dearest Lord nere doubt it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thorough Brake, thorough Brier,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>310</span><span class="i0">Thorough Muck, thorough Mier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thorough Water, thorough Fier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus goes <i>Puck</i> about it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This thing Nimphidia ouer hard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That on this mad King had a guard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not doubting of a great reward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For first this businesse broching;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span><span class="i0">And through the ayre away doth goe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swift as an Arrow from the Bowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To let her Soueraigne <i>Mab</i> to know,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>320</span><span class="i2">What perill was approaching.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Queene bound with Loues powerfulst charme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sate with <i>Pigwiggen</i> arme in arme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Merry Maydes that thought no harme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About the roome were skipping:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Humble-Bee their Minstrell, playde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon his Hoboy; eu'ry Mayde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fit for this Reuells was arayde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Hornepype neatly tripping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In comes <i>Nimphidia</i>, and doth crie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>330</span><span class="i0">My Soueraigne for your safety flie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there is danger but too nie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I posted to forewarne you:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The King hath sent <i>Hobgoblin</i> out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seeke you all the Fields about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of your safety you may doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If he but once discerne you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When like an vprore in a Towne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before them euery thing went downe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some tore a Ruffe, and some a Gowne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>340</span><span class="i2">Gainst one another iustling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They flewe about like Chaffe i' th winde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hast some left their Maskes behinde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some could not stay their Gloues to finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There neuer was such bustling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forth ranne they by a secret way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a brake that neere them lay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet much they doubted there to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lest <i>Hob</i> should hap to find them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had a sharpe and piercing sight,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>350</span><span class="i0">All one to him the day and night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore were resolu'd by flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To leave this place behind them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span><span class="i0">At length one chanc'd to find a Nut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In th' end of which a hole was cut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which lay vpon a Hazell roote,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There scatt'red by a Squirill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which out the kernell gotten had;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When quoth this <i>Fay</i> deare Queene be glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let <i>Oberon</i> be ne'r so mad,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>360</span><span class="i2">Ile set you safe from perill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come all into this Nut (quoth she)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come closely in be rul'd by me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one may here a chuser be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For roome yee need not wrastle:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor neede yee be together heapt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So one by one therein they crept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lying downe they soundly slept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And safe as in a Castle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Nimphidia</i> that this while doth watch,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>370</span><span class="i0">Perceiu'd if <i>Puck</i> the Queene should catch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he should be her ouer-match,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of which she well bethought her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Found it must be some powerfull Charme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Queene against him that must arme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or surely he would doe her harme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For throughly he had sought her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And listning if she ought could heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That her might hinder, or might feare:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But finding still the coast was cleare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>380</span><span class="i2">Nor creature had discride her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each circumstance and hauing scand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She came thereby to vnderstand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Puck</i> would be with them out of hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When to her Charmes she hide her:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And first her Ferne seede doth bestowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kernell of the Missletowe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here and there as <i>Puck</i> should goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With terrour to affright him:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span><span class="i0">She Night-shade strawes to work him ill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>390</span><span class="i0">Therewith her Veruayne and her Dill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hindreth Witches of their will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of purpose to dispight him.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then sprinkles she the iuice of Rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That groweth vnderneath the Yeu:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With nine drops of the midnight dewe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From Lunarie distilling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Molewarps braine mixt therewithall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the same the Pismyres gall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she in nothing short would fall;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>400</span><span class="i2">The <i>Fayrie</i> was so willing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then thrice vnder a Bryer doth creepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which at both ends was rooted deepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ouer it three times shee leepe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her Magicke much auayling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then on <i>Proserpyna</i> doth call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so vpon her spell doth fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which here to you repeate I shall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not in one tittle fayling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the croking of the Frogge;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>410</span><span class="i0">By the howling of the Dogge;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the crying of the Hogge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Against the storme arising;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Euening Curphewe bell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the dolefull dying knell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O let this my direfull Spell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Hob</i>, hinder thy surprising.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the Mandrakes dreadfull groanes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Lubricans sad moans;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the noyse of dead mens bones,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>420</span><span class="i2">In Charnell houses ratling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the hissing of the Snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rustling of the fire-Drake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I charge thee thou this place forsake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor of Queene <i>Mab</i> be pratling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span><span class="i0">By the Whirlwindes hollow sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Thunders dreadfull stound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yells of Spirits vnder ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I chardge thee not to feare vs:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Shreech-owles dismall note,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>430</span><span class="i0">By the Blacke Night-Rauens throate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I charge thee <i>Hob</i> to teare thy Coate<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With thornes if thou come neere vs,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her Spell thus spoke she stept aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in a Chincke her selfe doth hide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see there of what would betyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For shee doth onely minde him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When presently shee <i>Puck</i> espies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And well she markt his gloating eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How vnder euery leafe he spies,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>440</span><span class="i2">In seeking still to finde them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But once the Circle got within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Charmes to worke doe straight begin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he was caught as in a Gin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For as he thus was busie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A paine he in his Head-peece feeles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against a stubbed Tree he reeles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vp went poore <i>Hobgoblins</i> heeles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Alas his braine was dizzie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At length vpon his feete he gets,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>450</span><span class="i0"><i>Hobgoblin</i> fumes, <i>Hobgoblin</i> frets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as againe he forward sets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And through the Bushes scrambles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Stump doth trip him in his pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down comes poore <i>Hob</i> vpon his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lamentably tore his case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Amongst the Bryers and Brambles.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A plague vpon Queene <i>Mab</i>, quoth hee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all her Maydes where ere they be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thinke the Deuill guided me,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>460</span><span class="i2">To seeke her so prouoked.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span><span class="i0">Where stumbling at a piece of Wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He fell into a dich of mudd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where to the very Chin he stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In danger to be choked.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now worse than e're he was before:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poore <i>Puck</i> doth yell, poore <i>Puck</i> doth rore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wak'd Queene <i>Mab</i> who doubted sore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some Treason had been wrought her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill <i>Nimphidia</i> told the Queene<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>470</span><span class="i0">What she had done, what she had seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who then had well-neere crack'd her spleene<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With very extreame laughter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But leaue we <i>Hob</i> to clamber out:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Queene <i>Mab</i> and all her <i>Fayrie</i> rout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And come againe to haue about<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With <i>Oberon</i> yet madding:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with <i>Pigwiggen</i> now distrought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who much was troubled in his thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he so long the Queene had sought,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>480</span><span class="i2">And through the Fields was gadding.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And as he runnes he still doth crie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">King <i>Oberon</i> I thee defie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dare thee here in Armes to trie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For my deare Ladies honour:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that she is a Queene right good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In whose defence Ile shed my blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that thou in this iealous mood<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hast lay'd this slander on her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And quickly Armes him for the Field,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>490</span><span class="i0">A little Cockle-shell his Shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he could very brauely wield:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet could it not be pierced:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Speare a Bent both stiffe and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And well-neere of two Inches long;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Pyle was of a Horse-flyes tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose sharpnesse nought reuersed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span><span class="i0">And puts him on a coate of Male,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was of a Fishes scale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when his Foe should him assaile,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>500</span><span class="i2">No poynt should be preuayling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Rapier was a Hornets sting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a very dangerous thing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if he chanc'd to hurt the King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It would be long in healing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His Helmet was a Bettles head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most horrible and full of dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That able was to strike one dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet did it well become him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a plume, a horses hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>510</span><span class="i0">Which being tossed with the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had force to strike his Foe with feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And turne his weapon from him.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Himselfe he on an Earewig set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet scarce he on his back could get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So oft and high he did coruet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ere he himselfe could settle:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He made him turne, and stop, and bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gallop, and to trot the Round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He scarce could stand on any ground,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>520</span><span class="i2">He was so full of mettle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When soone he met with <i>Tomalin</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One that a valiant Knight had bin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to King <i>Oberon</i> of kin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quoth he thou manly <i>Fayrie</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell <i>Oberon</i> I come prepar'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then bid him stand vpon his Guard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This hand his basenesse shall reward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let him be ne'r so wary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Say to him thus, that I defie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>530</span><span class="i0">His slanders, and his infamie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as a mortall enemie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doe publickly proclaime him:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><span class="i0">Withall, that if I had mine owne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He should not weare the <i>Fayrie</i> Crowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with a vengeance should come downe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor we a King should name him.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This <i>Tomalin</i> could not abide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heare his Soueraigne vilefide:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to the <i>Fayrie</i> Court him hide;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>540</span><span class="i2">Full furiously he posted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With eu'ry thing <i>Pigwiggen</i> sayd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How title to the Crowne he layd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in what Armes he was aray'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As how himselfe he boasted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Twixt head and foot, from point to point,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He told th'arming of each ioint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every piece, how neate, and quaint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For <i>Tomalin</i> could doe it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How fayre he sat, how sure he rid,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>550</span><span class="i0">As of the courser he bestrid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How Mannag'd, and how well he did;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The King which listened to it,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Quoth he, goe <i>Tomalin</i> with speede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prouide me Armes, prouide my Steed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euery thing that I shall neede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By thee I will be guided;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To strait account, call thou thy witt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See there be wanting not a whitt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In euery thing see thou me fitt,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>560</span><span class="i2">Just as my foes prouided.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soone flewe this newes through <i>Fayrie</i> land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which gaue Queene <i>Mab</i> to vnderstand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The combate that was then in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Betwixt those men so mighty:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which greatly she began to rew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perceuing that all <i>Fayrie</i> knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first occasion from her grew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of these affaires so weighty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><span class="i0">Wherefore attended with her maides,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>570</span><span class="i0">Through fogs, and mists, and dampes she wades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To <i>Proserpine</i> the Queene of shades<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To treat, that it would please her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cause into her hands to take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ancient loue and friendships sake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soone therof an end to make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which of much care would ease her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A While, there let we <i>Mab</i> alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And come we to King <i>Oberon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who arm'd to meete his foe is gone,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>580</span><span class="i2">For Proud <i>Pigwiggen</i> crying:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sought the <i>Fayrie</i> King as fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had so well his iourneyes cast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he arriued at the last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His puisant foe espying:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Stout <i>Tomalin</i> came with the King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tom Thum</i> doth on <i>Pigwiggen</i> bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That perfect were in euery thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To single fights belonging:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore they themselues ingage,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>590</span><span class="i0">To see them exercise their rage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With faire and comely equipage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not one the other wronging.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So like in armes, these champions were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they had bin, a very paire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that a man would almost sweare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That either, had bin either;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their furious steedes began to naye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they were heard a mighty way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their staues vpon their rests they lay;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>600</span><span class="i2">Yet e'r they flew together,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their Seconds minister an oath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was indifferent to them both,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That on their Knightly faith, and troth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No magicke them supplyed;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span><span class="i0">And sought them that they had no charmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherewith to worke each others harmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But came with simple open armes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To haue their causes tryed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Together furiously they ran,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>610</span><span class="i0">That to the ground came horse and man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blood out of their Helmets span,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So sharpe were their incounters;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though they to the earth were throwne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet quickly they regain'd their owne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such nimblenesse was neuer showne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They were two Gallant Mounters.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When in a second Course againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They forward came with might and mayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet which had better of the twaine,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>620</span><span class="i2">The Seconds could not iudge yet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their shields were into pieces cleft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their helmets from their heads were reft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to defend them nothing left,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These Champions would not budge yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Away from them their Staues they threw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their cruell Swords they quickly drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And freshly they the fight renew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They euery stroke redoubled:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which made <i>Proserpina</i> take heed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>630</span><span class="i0">And make to them the greater speed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fear lest they too much should bleed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which wondrously her troubled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When to th' infernall <i>Stix</i> she goes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She takes the Fogs from thence that rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in a Bagge doth them enclose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When well she had them blended:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She hyes her then to <i>Lethe</i> spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Bottell and thereof doth bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherewith she meant to worke the thing,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>640</span><span class="i2">Which onely she intended.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span><span class="i0">Now <i>Proserpine</i> with <i>Mab</i> is gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto the place where <i>Oberon</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And proud <i>Pigwiggen</i>, one to one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Both to be slaine were likely:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there themselues they closely hide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because they would not be espide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For <i>Proserpine</i> meant to decide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The matter very quickly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And suddainly vntyes the Poke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>650</span><span class="i0">Which out of it sent such a smoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ready was them all to choke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So greeuous was the pother;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that the Knights each other lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stood as still as any post,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tom Thum</i>, nor <i>Tomalin</i> could boast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Themselues of any other.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when the mist gan somewhat cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Proserpina</i> commanded peace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that a while they should release,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>660</span><span class="i2">Each other of their perill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which here (quoth she) I doe proclaime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To all in dreadfull <i>Plutos</i> name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as yee will eschewe his blame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You let me heare the quarrell,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But here your selues you must engage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Somewhat to coole your spleenish rage:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your greeuous thirst and to asswage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That first you drinke this liquor:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which shall your vnderstanding cleare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>670</span><span class="i0">As plainely shall to you appeare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those things from me that you shall heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Conceiuing much the quicker.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This <i>Lethe</i> water you must knowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The memory destroyeth so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That of our weale, or of our woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It all remembrance blotted;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><span class="i0">Of it nor can you euer thinke:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they no sooner tooke this drinke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But nought into their braines could sinke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>680</span><span class="i2">Of what had them besotted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">King <i>Oberon</i> forgotten had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he for iealousie ranne mad:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of his Queene was wondrous glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And ask'd how they came thither:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Pigwiggen</i> likewise doth forget,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he Queene <i>Mab</i> had euer met;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or that they were so hard beset,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When they were found together.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor neither of them both had thought,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>690</span><span class="i0">That e'r they had each other sought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much lesse that they a Combat fought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But such a dreame were lothing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tom Thum</i> had got a little sup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Tomalin</i> scarce kist the Cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet had their braines so sure lockt vp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That they remembred nothing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Queene <i>Mab</i> and her light Maydes the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst themselues doe closely smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the King caught with this wile,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>700</span><span class="i2">With one another testing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the <i>Fayrie</i> Court they went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With mickle ioy and merriment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which thing was done with good intent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thus I left them feasting.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h4>FINIS.</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/07.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>THE QVEST OF CYNTHIA</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What time the groues were clad in greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Fields drest all in flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that the sleeke-hayred Nimphs were seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To seeke them Summer Bowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forth rou'd I by the sliding Rills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To finde where <span class="smcap">Cynthia</span> sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose name so often from the hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Ecchos wondred at.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When me vpon my Quest to bring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">That pleasure might excell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Birds stroue which should sweetliest sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Flowers which sweet'st should smell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long wand'ring in the Woods (said I)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh whether's <span class="smcap">Cynthia</span> gone?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When soone the Eccho doth reply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To my last word, goe on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At length vpon a lofty Firre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It was my chance to finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where that deare name most due to her,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Was caru'd vpon the rynde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which whilst with wonder I beheld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Bees their hony brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vp the carued letters fild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As they with gould were wrought.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And neere that trees more spacious roote,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then looking on the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shape of her most dainty foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Imprinted there I found.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which stuck there like a curious seale,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">As though it should forbid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vs, wretched mortalls, to reueale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What vnder it was hid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span><span class="i0">Besides the flowers which it had pres'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Apeared to my vew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More fresh and louely than the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That in the meadowes grew:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The cleere drops in the steps that stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of that dilicious Girle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphes amongst their dainty food,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">Drunke for dissolued pearle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The yeilding sand, where she had troad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vntutcht yet with the winde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the faire posture plainely show'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where I might <i>Cynthia</i> finde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When on vpon my waylesse walke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As my desires me draw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I like a madman fell to talke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With euery thing I saw:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ask'd some Lillyes why so white,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">They from their fellowes were;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who answered me, that <i>Cynthia's</i> sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Had made them looke so cleare:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ask'd a nodding Violet why,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It sadly hung the head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It told me <i>Cynthia</i> late past by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too soone from it that fled:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A bed of Roses saw I there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bewitching with their grace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besides so wondrous sweete they were,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">That they perfum'd the place,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I of a Shrube of those enquir'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From others of that kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who with such virtue them enspir'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It answer'd (to my minde).<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As the base Hemblocke were we such,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The poysned'st weed that growes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till <i>Cynthia</i> by her god-like tuch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Transform'd vs to the Rose:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><span class="i0">Since when those Frosts that winter brings<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i2">Which candy euery greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Renew vs like the Teeming Springs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we thus Fresh are scene.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At length I on a Fountaine light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose brim with Pincks was platted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Banck with Daffadillies dight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With grasse like Sleaue was matted,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I demanded of that Well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What power frequented there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desiring, it would please to tell<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i2">What name it vsde to beare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It tolde me it was <i>Cynthias</i> owne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Within whose cheerefull brimmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That curious Nimph had oft beene knowne<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To bath her snowy Limmes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since when that Water had the power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lost Mayden-heads to restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make one Twenty in an howre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of <i>Esons</i> age before.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And told me that the bottome cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i2">Now layd with many a fett<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was knowne as blacke as Jet,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As when she from the water came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where first she touch'd the molde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In balls the people made the same<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Pomander, and solde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When chance me to an Arbour led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereas I might behold:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two blest <i>Elizeums</i> in one sted,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i2">The lesse the great enfold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The place which she had chosen out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her selfe in to repose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The very same had chose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span><span class="i0">The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That sweet, nor dainty flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of <span class="smcap">Cynthias</span> Summer Bower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i2">Like Friends did all embrace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their large branches did display,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To Canapy the place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where she like <span class="smcap">Venvs</span> doth appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vpon a Rosie bed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereon she layd her head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And with such bounties blest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No lim of hers but might haue made<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i2">A Goddesse at the least.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the bright Radience throwne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They so like Diamonds shone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The meanest weede the soyle there bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her breath did so refine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it with Woodbynd durst compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And beard the Eglantine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The dewe which on the tender grasse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i2">The Euening had distill'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pure Rose-water turned was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The shades with sweets that fill'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The windes were husht, no leafe so small<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At all was scene to stirre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst tuning to the waters fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The small Birds sang to her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where she too quickly me espies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When I might plainely see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand <i>Cupids</i> from her eyes<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i2">Shoote all at once at me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span><span class="i0">Into these secret shades (quoth she)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How dar'st thou be so bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To enter, consecrate to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or touch this hallowed mold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those words (quoth she) I can pronounce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which to that shape can bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thee, which the Hunter had who once<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sawe <i>Dian</i> in the Spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright Nimph againe I thus replie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i2">This cannot me affright:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had rather in thy presence die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then liue out of thy sight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I first vpon the Mountaines hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Built Altars to thy name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grau'd it on the Rocks thereby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To propogate thy fame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I taught the Shepheards on the Downes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thee to frame their Layes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'was I that fill'd the neighbouring Townes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i2">With Ditties of thy praise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy colours I deuis'd with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which were vnknowne before:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which since that, in their braded hayre<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Nimphes and Siluans wore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Transforme me to what shape you can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I passe not what it be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea what most hatefull is to man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So I may follow thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which when she heard full pearly floods,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i2">I in her eyes might view:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Quoth she) most welcome to these Woods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too meane for one so true.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here from the hatefull world we'll liue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A den of mere dispight:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Ideots only that doth giue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which be her sole delight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><span class="i0">To people the infernall pit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That more and more doth striue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where only villany is wit,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i2">And Diuels only thriue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whose vilenesse vs shall neuer awe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But here our sports shall be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as the golden world first sawe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Most innocent and free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of Simples in these Groues that growe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wee'll learne the perfect skill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nature of each Herbe to knowe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which cures, and which can kill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The waxen Pallace of the Bee,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i2">We seeking will surprise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The curious workmanship to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of her full laden thighes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wee'll suck the sweets out of the Combe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make the gods repine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they doe feast in <i>Ioues</i> great roome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To see with what we dine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet when there haps a honey fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wee'll lick the sirupt leaues:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell the Bees that their's is gall,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i2">To this vpon the Greaues.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nimble Squirrell noting here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her mossy Dray that makes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laugh to see the lusty Deere<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come bounding ore the brakes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Spiders Webb to watch weele stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And when it takes the Bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weele helpe out of the Tyrants hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Innocent to free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sometime weele angle at the Brooke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i2">The freckled Trout to take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With silken Wormes, and bayte the hooke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which him our prey shall make.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><span class="i0">Of medling with such subtile tooles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such dangers that enclose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Morrall is that painted Fooles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are caught with silken showes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when the Moone doth once appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weele trace the lower grounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Fayries</i> in their Ringlets there<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i2">Do daunce their nightly rounds.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And haue a Flocke of Turtle Doues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A guard on vs to keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A witnesse of our honest loues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To watch vs till we sleepe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which spoke I felt such holy fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To ouerspred my breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As lent life to my Chast desires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And gaue me endlesse rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By <i>Cynthia</i> thus doe I subsist,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i2">On earth Heauens onely pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let her be mine, and let who list,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Take all the world beside.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h4>FINIS.</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/08.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/09.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>THE SHEPHEARDS SIRENA</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span> in sorrowes deepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Autumne waxing olde and chill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As he sate his Flocks to keepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Vnderneath an easie hill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Chanc'd to cast his eye aside<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On those fields, where he had scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bright <span class="smcap">Sirena</span> Natures pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sporting on the pleasant greene:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To whose walkes the Shepheards oft,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i4">Came her god-like foote to finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And in places that were soft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Kist the print there left behinde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where the path which she had troad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hath thereby more glory gayn'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then in heau'n that milky rode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which with Nectar <i>Hebe</i> stayn'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But bleake Winters boystrous blasts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Now their fading pleasures chid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And so fill'd them with his wastes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i4">That from sight her steps were hid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Silly Shepheard sad the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For his sweet <span class="smcap">Sirena</span> gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">All his pleasures in exile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Layd on the colde earth alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whilst his gamesome cut-tayld Curre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With his mirthlesse Master playes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Striuing him with sport to stirre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As in his more youthfull dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span> his Dogge doth chide,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i4">Layes his well-tun'd Bagpype by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And his Sheep-hooke casts aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">There (quoth he) together lye.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span><span class="i4">When a Letter forth he tooke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which to him <span class="smcap">Sirena</span> writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With a deadly down-cast looke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And thus fell to reading it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span> my deare (quoth she)<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Kinde Companion of my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Though we thus diuided be,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i4">Death cannot diuorce vs so:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou whose bosome hath beene still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Th' onely Closet of my care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And in all my good and ill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Euer had thy equall share:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Might I winne thee from thy Fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou shouldst come to visite me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But the Winter is so cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That I feare to hazard thee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The wilde waters are waxt hie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i4">So they are both deafe and dumbe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lou'd they thee so well as I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They would ebbe when thou shouldst come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then my coate with light should shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Purer then the Vestall fire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nothing here but should be thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That thy heart can well desire:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where at large we will relate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From what cause our friendship grewe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And in that the varying Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i4">Since we first each other knewe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of my heauie passed plight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As of many a future feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which except the silent night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">None but onely thou shalt heare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My sad hurt it shall releeue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When my thoughts I shall disclose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For thou canst not chuse but greeue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When I shall recount my woes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">There is nothing to that friend,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i4">To whose close vncranied brest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">We our secret thoughts may send,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And there safely let it rest:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span><span class="i4">And thy faithfull counsell may,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My distressed case assist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sad affliction else may sway<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Me a woman as it list:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hither I would haue thee haste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet would gladly haue thee stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When those dangers I forecast,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i4">That may meet thee by the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Doe as thou shalt thinke it best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Let thy knowledge be thy guide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Liue thou in my constant breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whatsoeuer shall betide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He her Letter hauing red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Puts it in his Scrip againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Looking like a man halfe dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By her kindenesse strangely slaine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And as one who inly knew,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i4">Her distressed present state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And to her had still been true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus doth with himselfe debate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I will not thy face admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Admirable though it bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor thine eyes whose subtile fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">So much wonder winne in me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But my maruell shall be now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">(And of long it hath bene so)<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of all Woman kind that thou<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i4">Wert ordain'd to taste of woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To a Beauty so diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Paradise in little done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O that Fortune should assigne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ought but what thou well mightst shun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But my counsailes such must bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">(Though as yet I them conceale)<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By their deadly wound in me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They thy hurt must onely heale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Could I giue what thou do'st craue<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i4">To that passe thy state is growne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I thereby thy life may saue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But am sure to loose mine owne,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><span class="i4">To that ioy thou do'st conceiue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Through my heart, the way doth lye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which in two for thee must claue<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Least that thou shouldst goe awry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus my death must be a toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which my pensiue breast must couer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thy beloued to enioy,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i4">Must be taught thee by thy Louer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hard the Choise I haue to chuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To my selfe if friend I be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I must my <span class="smcap">Sirena</span> loose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">If not so, shee looseth me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus whilst he doth cast about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What therein were best to doe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor could yet resolue the doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whether he should stay or goe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In those Feilds not farre away,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i4">There was many a frolike Swaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In fresh Russets day by day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That kept Reuells on the Plaine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nimble <span class="smcap">Tom</span>, sirnam'd the <i>Tup</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For his Pipe without a Peere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And could tickle <i>Trenchmore</i> vp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As t'would ioy your heart to heare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Ralph</span> as much renown'd for skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That the <i>Taber</i> touch'd so well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For his <i>Gittern</i>, little <span class="smcap">Gill</span>,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i4">That all other did excell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Rock</span> and <span class="smcap">Rollo</span> euery way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Who still led the Rusticke Ging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And could troule a Roundelay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That would make the Feilds to ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><span class="smcap">Collin</span> on his <i>Shalme</i> so cleare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Many a high-pitcht Note that had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And could make the Eechos nere<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shout as they were wexen mad.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Many a lusty Swaine beside,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i4">That for nought but pleasure car'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hauing <span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span> espy'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And with him knew how it far'd.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span><span class="i4">Thought from him they would remoue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">This strong melancholy fitt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or so, should it not behoue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Quite to put him out of 's witt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hauing learnt a Song, which he<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sometime to Sirena sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Full of Iollity and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i4">When the Nimph liu'd neere to <i>Trent</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They behinde him softly gott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lying on the earth along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And when he suspected not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus the Iouiall Shepheards song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Neare to the Siluer <i>Trent</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Sirena</i> dwelleth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shee to whom Nature lent<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All that excelleth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By which the <i>Muses</i> late,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i6">And the neate <i>Graces</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Haue for their greater state<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Taken their places:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Twisting an <i>Anadem</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Wherewith to Crowne her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As it belong'd to them<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Most to renowne her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let the Swanes sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i6"><i>And with their Musick,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>Tagus</i> and <i>Pactolus</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Are to thee Debter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor for their gould to vs<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Are they the better:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Henceforth of all the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Be thou the Riuer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which as the daintiest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Puts them downe euer,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i4">For as my precious one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">O'r thee doth trauell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">She to Pearl Parragon<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Turneth thy grauell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanns sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musicke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Our mournefull <i>Philomell</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i6">That rarest Tuner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Henceforth in <i>Aperill</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Shall wake the sooner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And to her shall complaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From the thicke Couer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Redoubling euery straine<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Ouer and ouer:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For when my Loue too long<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Her Chamber keepeth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As though it suffered wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i6">The Morning weepeth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanes sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musick,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Oft have I seene the Sunne<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To doe her honour.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Fix himselfe at his noone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To look vpon her,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i4">And hath guilt euery Groue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Euery Hill neare her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With his flames from aboue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Striuing to cheere her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And when shee from his sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Hath her selfe turned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He as it had beene night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In Cloudes hath mourned.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span><span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanns sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musicke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">The Verdant Meades are seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When she doth view them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In fresh and gallant Greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Straight to renewe them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And euery little Grasse<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Broad it selfe spreadeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Proud that this bonny Lasse<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i6">Vpon it treadeth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor flower is so sweete<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In this large Cincture<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But it upon her feete<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Leaueth some Tincture.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanes sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with thy Musick,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i4">The Fishes in the Flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When she doth Angle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For the Hooke striue a good<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Them to intangle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And leaping on the Land<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From the cleare water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Their Scales vpon the sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Lauishly scatter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Therewith to paue the mould<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Whereon she passes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>260</span><span class="i4">So her selfe to behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As in her glasses.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Ranke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanns sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musicke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">When shee lookes out by night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The Starres stand gazing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Like Commets to our sight<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>270</span><span class="i6">Fearefully blazing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As wondring at her eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With their much brightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which to amaze the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Dimming their lightnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The raging Tempests are Calme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When shee speaketh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Such most delightsome balme<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From her lips breaketh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Banke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>280</span><span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke</i>, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">In all our <i>Brittany</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Ther's not a fayrer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor can you fitt any:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Should you compare her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Angels her eye-lids keepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All harts surprizing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which looke whilst she doth sleepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like the Sunnes rising:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">She alone of her kinde<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>290</span><span class="i6">Knoweth true measure<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And her vnmatched mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is Heauens treasure:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swanes sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musick,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Fayre <i>Doue</i> and <i>Darwine</i> cleere<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Boast yee your beauties,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>300</span><span class="i4">To <i>Trent</i> your Mistres here<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Yet pay your duties,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My Loue was higher borne<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Tow'rds the full Fountaines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet she doth <i>Moorland</i> scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the <i>Peake</i> Mountaines;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span><span class="i4">Nor would she none should dreame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Where she abideth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Humble as is the streame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Which by her slydeth,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>310</span><span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Bancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Rancke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swannes sing her,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And with their Musicke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Yet my poore Rusticke <i>Muse</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nothing can moue her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor the means I can vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Though her true Louer:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Many a long Winters night,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>320</span><span class="i6">Haue I wak'd for her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet this my piteous plight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nothing can stirre her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">All thy Sands siluer <i>Trent</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Downe to the <i>Humber</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The sighes I haue spent<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Neuer can number.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cho. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>On thy Banke</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>In a Ranke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Let thy Swans sing her</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>330</span><span class="i6"><i>And with their Musicke</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Along let them bring her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Taken with this suddaine Song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Least for mirth when he doth look<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His sad heart more deeply stong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then the former care he tooke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At their laughter and amaz'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For a while he sat aghast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But a little hauing gaz'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus he them bespake at last.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Is this time for mirth (quoth he)<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>340</span><span class="i4">To a man with griefe opprest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sinfull wretches as you be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">May the sorrowes in my breast,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span><span class="i4">Light vpon you one by one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And as now you mocke my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When your mirth is turn'd to moane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">May your like then serue you so.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When one Swaine among the rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thus him merrily bespake,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>350</span><span class="i4">Get thee vp thou arrant beast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Fits this season loue to make?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Take thy Sheephooke in thy hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Clap thy Curre and set him on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For our fields 'tis time to stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or they quickly will be gon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Rougish Swinheards that repine<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At our Flocks, like beastly Clownes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sweare that they will bring their Swine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And will wroote vp all our Downes:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>360</span><span class="i4">They their Holly whips haue brac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And tough Hazell goades haue gott;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soundly they your sides will baste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">If their courage faile them not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of their purpose if they speed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then your Bagpypes you may burne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">It is neither Droane nor Reed<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shepheard, that will serue your turne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Angry <span class="smcap">Olcon</span> sets them on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And against vs part doth take<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>370</span><span class="i4">Euer since he was out-gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Offring Rymes with us to make.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet if so our Sheepe-hookes hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dearely shall our Downes be bought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For it neuer shall be told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">We our Sheep-walkes sold for naught.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And we here haue got vs Dogges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Best of all the Westerne breed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which though Whelps shall lug their Hogges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Till they make their eares to bleed:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>380</span><span class="i4">Therefore Shepheard come away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When as <span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span> arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whistles Cut-tayle from his play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And along with them he goes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h4>FINIS.</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/10.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>THE MVSES ELIZIVM</h2>
+
+<h4>The Description of Elizium</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A Paradice on earth is found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though farre from vulgar sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which with those pleasures doth abound<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That it <i>Elizium</i> hight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where, in Delights that neuer fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Muses lulled be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sit at pleasure in the shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of many a stately tree,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which no rough Tempest makes to reele<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">Nor their straight bodies bowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their lofty tops doe neuer feele<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The weight of winters snowes;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Groues that euermore are greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No falling leafe is there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But <i>Philomel</i> (of birds the Queene)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Musicke spends the yeare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The <i>Merle</i> vpon her mertle Perch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There to the <i>Mavis</i> sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who from the top of some curld Berch<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Those notes redoubled rings;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There Daysyes damaske euery place<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor once their beauties lose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when proud <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> hides his face<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Themselues they scorne to close.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Pansy and the Violet here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As seeming to descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both from one Root, a very payre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For sweetnesse yet contend,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span><span class="i0">And pointing to a Pinke to tell<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">Which beares it, it is loath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To iudge it; but replyes for smell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That it excels them both.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So angry soone they grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from their odoriferous beds<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their sweets at it they throw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The winter here a Summer is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No waste is made by time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor doth the Autumne euer misse<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">The blossomes of the Prime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The flower that Iuly forth doth bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Aprill here is seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Primrose that puts on the Spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Iuly decks each Greene.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sweets for soueraignty contend<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And so abundant be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That to the very Earth they lend<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Barke of euery Tree:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rills rising out of euery Banck,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">In wild Meanders strayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And playing many a wanton pranck<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vpon the speckled plaine,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Gambols and lascivious Gyres<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their time they still bestow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor to their Fountaines none retyres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor on their course will goe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So proud and wanton made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they their courses quite neglect:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">And seeme as though they stayde,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faire <i>Flora</i> in her state to viewe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which through those Lillies looks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or as those Lillies leand to shew<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their beauties to the brooks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span><span class="i0">That <i>Ph&#339;bus</i>in his lofty race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oft layes aside his beames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And comes to coole his glowing face<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In these delicious streames;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i2">Whose ripned clusters there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their liquid purple drop, which driues<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A Vintage through the yeere.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Trees of sundry sutes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which make continuall summer glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Euen bending with their fruits,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some ripening, ready some to fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some blossom'd, some to bloome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like gorgeous hangings on the wall<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i2">Of some rich princely Roome:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Pomegranates</i>, <i>Lymons</i>, <i>Cytrons</i>, so<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their laded branches bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their leaues in number that outgoe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor roomth will them alow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There in perpetuall Summers shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Apolloes</i> Prophets sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the flowres that neuer fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But flowrish like their wit;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i2">Tune many a curious lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with their most melodious Quires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Make short the longest day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The <i>thrice three Virgins</i> heavenly Cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their trembling Timbrels sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst the three comely Graces there<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dance many a dainty Round,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Decay nor Age there nothing knowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There is continuall Youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Time on plant or creatures growes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i2">So still their strength renewth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span><span class="i0">The Poets Paradice this is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To which but few can come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Muses onely bower of blisse<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their Deare <i>Elizium</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Free from the rude resort<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of beastly people) spend the houres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In harmelesse mirth and sport,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then on to the <i>Elizian</i> plaines<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i2"><i>Apollo</i> doth invite you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he prouides with pastorall straines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Nimphals to delight you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The first Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Rodope</span> and <span class="smcap">Dorida</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>This Nimphall of delights doth treat,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Choice beauties, and proportions neat,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Of curious shapes, and dainty features</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Describd in two most perfect creatures.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> with a face of mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had flong abroad his beames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To blanch the bosome of the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glaze the gliding streames.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within a goodly Mertle groue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon that hallowed day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their vowes were vsde to pay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faire <i>Rodope</i> and <i>Dorida</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Met in those sacred shades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then whom the Sunne in all his way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nere saw two daintier Maids.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the thickets thrild his fires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Supposing to haue seene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soueraigne <i>Goddesse of desires</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or <i>Ioves Emperious Queene</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span><span class="i0">Both of so wondrous beauties were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In shape both so excell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That to be paraleld elsewhere,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">No iudging eye could tell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their affections so surpasse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well it might be deemd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That th' one of them the other was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And but themselues they seem'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disposed were to play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Barly-breake and Prison-base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doe passe the time away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This peerlesse payre together set,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">The other at their sport,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None neare their free discourse to let,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each other thus they court,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> My sweet, my soueraigne <i>Rodope</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My deare delight, my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I to this Bracelet woue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which brighter euery day doth grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The longer it is worne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As its delicious fellowes doe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Thy Temples that adorne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Rodope.</i> Nay had I thine my <i>Dorida</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would them so bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As that the winde vpon my way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might backward make them flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So should it in its greatst excesse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turne to becalmed ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quite forget all boistrousnesse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To play with euery hayre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> To me like thine had nature giuen,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">A Brow, so Archt, so cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Front, wherein so much of heauen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth to each eye appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world should see, I would strike dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Milky Way that's now,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><span class="i0">And say that Nectar <i>Hebe</i> shed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell all vpon my Brow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Rodope.</i> O had I eyes like <i>Doridaes</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would inchant the day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make the Sunne to stand at gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Till he forget his way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cause his Sister <i>Queene of Streames</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When so I list by night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By her much blushing at my Beames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T' eclipse her borrowed light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> Had I a Cheeke like <i>Rodopes</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In midst of which doth stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Groue of Roses, such as these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such a snowy land:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would then make the Lilly which we now<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">So much for whitenesse name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As drooping downe the head to bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And die for very shame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Rodope.</i> Had I a bosome like to thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I it pleas'd to show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T' what part o' th' Skie I would incline<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would make th' Etheriall bowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My swannish breast brancht all with blew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In brauery like the spring:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Winter to the generall view<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Full Summer forth should bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> Had I a body like my deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were I so straight so tall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, if so broad my shoulders were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I a waste so small;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would challenge the proud Queene of loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To yeeld to me for shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I should feare that <i>Mars</i> or <i>Iove</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would venter for my rape.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Rodope.</i> Had I a hand like thee my Gerle,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">(This hand O let me kisse)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Ivory Arrowes pyl'd with pearle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I a hand like this;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span><span class="i0">I would not doubt at all to make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each finger of my hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To taske swift <i>Mercury</i> to take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his inchanting wand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> Had I a Theigh like Rodopes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which twas my chance to viewe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When lying on yon banck at ease,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">The wind thy skirt vp blew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would say it were a columne wrought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some intent Diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for our chaste <i>Diana</i> sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pillar for her shryne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Rodope.</i> Had I a Leg but like to thine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were so neat, so cleane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A swelling Calfe, a Small so fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An Ankle, round and leane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would tell nature she doth misse<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">Her old skill; and maintaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She shewd her master peece in this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not to be done againe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Dorida.</i> Had I that Foot hid in those shoos,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Proportion'd to my height)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Short Heele, thin Instep, euen Toes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Sole so wondrous straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Forresters and Nimphes at this<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amazed all should stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kneeling downe, should meekely kisse<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">The Print left in the sand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By this the Nimphes came from their sport,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All pleased wondrous well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to these Maydens make report<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What lately them befell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One said the dainty <i>Lelipa</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did all the rest out-goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another would a wager lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She would outstrip a Roe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sayes one, how like you <i>Florimel</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">There is your dainty face:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><span class="i0">A fourth replide, she lik't that well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet better lik't her grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She's counted, I confesse, quoth she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be our onely Pearle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet haue I heard her oft to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A melancholy Gerle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another said she quite mistoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That onely was her art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When melancholly had her looke<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">Then mirth was in her heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hath she then that pretty trick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another doth reply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought no Nimph could haue bin sick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of that disease but I;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know you can dissemble well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth one to giue you due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here be some (who Ile not tell)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can do't as well as you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who thus replies, I know that too,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">We haue it from our Mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet there be some this thing can doe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More cunningly then other:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If Maydens but dissemble can<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their sorrow and ther ioy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their pore dissimulation than,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but a very toy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The second Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Lalvs</span>, <span class="smcap">Cleon</span>, and <span class="smcap">Lirope</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>The Muse new Courtship doth deuise,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>By Natures strange Varieties,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Whose Rarieties she here relates,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>And giues you Pastorall Delicates.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Lalus</i> a Iolly youthfull Lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With <i>Cleon</i>, no lesse crown'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With vertues; both their beings had<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the Elizian ground.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span><span class="i0">Both hauing parts so excellent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it a question was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which should be the most eminent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or did in ought surpasse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This <i>Cleon</i> was a Mountaineer,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And of the wilder kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from his birth had many a yeere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bin nurst vp by a Hinde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as the sequell well did show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It very well might be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For neuer Hart, nor Hare, nor Roe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were halfe so swift as he.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But <i>Lalus</i> in the Vale was bred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the Sheepe and Neate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by these Nimphes there choicly fed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">With Hony, Milke, and Wheate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Stature goodly, faire of speech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of behauiour mylde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like those there in the Valley rich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bred him of a chyld.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Falconry they had the skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Halkes to feed and flye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No better Hunters ere clome Hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor hollowed to a Cry:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Dingles deepe, and Mountains hore,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Oft with the bearded Speare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They combated the tusky Boare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slew the angry Beare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Musicke they were wondrous quaint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fine Aers they could deuise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They very curiously could Paint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And neatly Poetize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wagers many time were laid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Questions that arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which song the witty <i>Lalus</i> made,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Which <i>Cleon</i> should compose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stately Steed they manag'd well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Fence the art they knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Dansing they did all excell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gerles that to them drew;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span><span class="i0">To throw the Sledge, to pitch the Barre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wrestle and to Run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They all the Youth exceld so farre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That still the Prize they wonne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These sprightly Gallants lou'd a Lasse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Cald <i>Lirope the bright</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the whole world there scarcely was<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So delicate a Wight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was no Beauty so diuine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euer Nimph did grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it beyond it selfe did shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her more heuenly face:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What forme she pleasd each thing would take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ere she did behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pebbles she could Diamonds make,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Grosse Iron turne to Gold:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such power there with her presence came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sterne Tempests she alayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cruell Tiger she could tame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She raging Torrents staid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She chid, she cherisht, she gaue life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Againe she made to dye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She raisd a warre, apeasd a Strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With turning of her eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some said a God did her beget,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">But much deceiu'd were they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Father was a <i>Riuelet</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Mother was a <i>Fay</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Lineaments so fine that were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She from the Fayrie tooke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Beauties and Complection cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By nature from the Brooke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Ryualls wayting for the houre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The weather calme and faire)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When as she vs'd to leaue her Bower<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">To take the pleasant ayre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Acosting her; their complement<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To her their Goddesse done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By gifts they tempt her to consent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Lalus</i> thus begun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Lalus.</i> Sweet <i>Lirope</i> I haue a Lambe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Newly wayned from the Damme,<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>* Without hornes.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">Of the right kinde, it is *notted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naturally with purple spotted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into laughter it will put you,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">To see how prettily 'twill But you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When on sporting it is set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will beate you a Corvet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at euery nimble bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turne it selfe aboue the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tis hungry it will bleate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From your hand to haue its meate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when it hath fully fed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As innocently to expresse<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you bid it, it will play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be it either night or day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This <i>Lirope</i> I haue for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thou alone wilt liue with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cleon.</i> From him O turne thine eare away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heare me my lou'd <i>Lirope</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I haue a Kid as white as milke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His skin as soft as <i>Naples</i> silke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His hornes in length are wondrous euen,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">And curiously by nature writhen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is of th' Arcadian kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ther's not the like twixt either <i>Inde</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you walke, 'twill walke you by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you sit downe, it downe will lye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It with gesture will you wooe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And counterfeit those things you doe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ore each Hillock it will vault,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nimbly doe the Summer-sault,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">And follow you a furlong so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if by chance a Tune you roate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill foote it finely to your note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeke the worlde and you may misse<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><span class="i0">To finde out such a thing as this;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This my loue I haue for thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lirope.</i> Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you offer wondrous faire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Lalus</i> for Lambe, <i>Cleon</i> for Kyd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And haue you two such things in store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I n'er knew of them before?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well yet I dare a Wager lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That <i>Brag</i> my little Dog shall play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As dainty tricks when I shall bid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As <i>Lalus</i> Lambe, or <i>Cleons</i> Kid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But t' may fall out that I may neede them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till when yee may doe well to feed them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Goate and Mutton pretty be<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">But Youths these are noe bayts for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lalus.</i> I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her Bosome <i>Venus</i> hatcht them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where her little <i>Cupid</i> watcht them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Themselues and to the Fields betooke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where by chance a Fowler caught them<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">Of whom I full dearely bought them;<br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote"><i>* The redde fruit of the smooth Bramble.</i></div>
+<span class="i0">They'll fetch you Conserue from the *Hip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lay it softly on your Lip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fluttering feed you with the Sirup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if thence you put them by<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They to your white necke will flye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if you expulse them there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You so long shall see them prattle<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0">Till at length they'll fall to battle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they haue fought their fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You will smile to see them bill<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span><span class="i0">These birds my <i>Lirope's</i> shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cleon.</i> His Sparrowes are not worth a rush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'le finde as good in euery bush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Doues I haue a dainty paire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which when you please to take the Air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About your head shall gently houer<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">You Cleere browe from the Sunne to couer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with their nimble wings shall fan you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That neither Cold nor Heate shall tan you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like Vmbrellas with their feathers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They be most dainty Coloured things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They haue Damask backs and Chequerd wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their neckes more Various Cullours showe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then there be mixed in the Bowe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Venus</i> saw the lesser Doue<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0">And therewith was farre in Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Offering for't her goulden Ball<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her Sonne to play withall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These my <i>Liropes</i> shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So shee'll leaue him and goe with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lirope.</i> Then for Sparrowes, and for Doues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am fitted twixt my Loues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But <i>Lalus</i> I take no delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Sparowes, for they'll scratch and bite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though ioynd, they are euer wooing<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">Alwayes billing, if not doeing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twixt <i>Venus</i> breasts if they haue lyen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I much feare they'll infect myne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cleon</i> your Doues are very dainty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tame Pidgeons else you know are plenty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These may winne some of your Marrowes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am not caught with Doues, nor Sparrowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thanke ye kindly for your Coste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet your labour is but loste.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lalus.</i> With full-leau'd Lillies I will stick<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0">Thy braded hayre all o'r so thick,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><span class="i0">That from it a Light shall throw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the Sunnes vpon the Snow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Mantle shall be Violet Leaues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the fin'st the Silkeworme weaues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As finely wouen; whose rich smell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Ayre about thee so shall swell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it shall haue no power to mooue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Ruffe of Pinkes thy Robe aboue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About thy necke so neatly set<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0">That Art it cannot counterfet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which still shall looke so Fresh and new,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if vpon their Roots they grew:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for thy head Ile haue a Tyer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of netting, made of Strawbery wyer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in each knot that doth compose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Mesh, shall stick a halfe blowne Rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red, damaske, white, in order set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the sides, shall run a Fret<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Primroses, the Tyer throughout<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i0">With Thrift and Dayses frindgd about;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All this faire Nimph Ile doe for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cleon.</i> These be but weeds and Trash he brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ile giue thee solid, costly things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His will wither and be gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before thou well canst put them on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Currall I will haue thee Crown'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose Branches intricatly wound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall girt thy Temples euery way;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">And on the top of euery Spray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall stick a Pearle orient and great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which so the wandring Birds shall cheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That some shall stoope to looke for Cheries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As other for tralucent Berries.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wondering, caught e'r they be ware<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the curld Tramels of thy hayre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for thy necke a Christall Chaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose lincks shapt like to drops of Raine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon thy panting Breast depending,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i0">Shall seeme as they were still descending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as thy breath doth come and goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So seeming still to ebbe and flow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Amber Bracelets cut like Bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose strange transparency who sees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Silke small as the Spiders Twist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doubled so oft about thy Wrist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would surely thinke aliue they were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Lillies gathering hony there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Buskins Ivory, caru'd like Shels<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i0">Of Scallope, which as little Bels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made hollow, with the Ayre shall Chime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to thy steps shall keepe the time:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaue <i>Lalus</i>, <i>Lirope</i> for me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these shall thy rich dowry be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lirope.</i> <i>Lalus</i> for Flowers. <i>Cleon</i> for Iemmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Garlands and for Diadems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shall be sped, why this is braue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Nimph can choicer Presents haue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dressing, brading, frowncing, flowring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>260</span><span class="i0">All your Iewels on me powring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this brauery being drest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the ground I shall be prest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I doubt the Nimphes will feare me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor will venture to come neare me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuer Lady of the May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To this houre was halfe so gay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All in flowers, all so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the Crowne, beneath the Feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amber, Currall, Ivory, Pearle,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>270</span><span class="i0">If this cannot win a Gerle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ther's nothing can, and this ye wooe me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giue me your hands and trust ye to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Yet to tell ye I am loth)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I'le haue neither of you both;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lalus.</i> When thou shalt please to stem the flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(As thou art of the watry brood)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'le haue twelve Swannes more white than Snow,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><span class="i0">Yokd for the purpose two and two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drawe thy Barge wrought of fine Reed<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>280</span><span class="i0">So well that it nought else shall need,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Traces by which they shall hayle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Barge; shall be the winding trayle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of woodbynd; whose braue Tasseld Flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The Sweetnesse of the Woodnimphs Bowres)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be the Trappings to adorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Swannes, by which thy Barge is borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of flowred Flags I'le rob the banke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of water-Cans and King-cups ranck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be the Couering of thy Boate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>290</span><span class="i0">And on the Streame as thou do'st Floate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Naiades</i> that haunt the deepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Themselues about thy Barge shall keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Recording most delightfull Layes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Sea Gods written in thy prayse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in what place thou hapst to land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the gentle Siluery sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall soften, curled with the Aier<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As sensible of thy repayre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This my deare loue I'le doe for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>300</span><span class="i0">So Thou'lt leaue him and goe with me:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cleon.</i> Tush Nimphe his Swannes will prove but Geese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Barge drinke water like a Fleece;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Boat is base, I'le thee prouide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Chariot, wherein <i>Ioue</i> may ride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which when brauely thou art borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shalt looke like the gloryous morne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vshering the Sunne, and such a one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As to this day was neuer none,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Rarest Indian Gummes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>310</span><span class="i0">More pretious then your Balsamummes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which I by Art haue made so hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they with Tooles may well be Caru'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make a Coach of: which shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Materyalls of this one for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of thy Chariot each small peece<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall inlayd be with Amber Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><span class="i0">And guilded with the Yellow ore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Produc'd from <i>Tagus</i> wealthy shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which along the pleasant Lawne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>320</span><span class="i0">With twelue white Stags thou shalt be drawne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose brancht palmes of a stately height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With seuerall nosegayes shall be dight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as thou ryd'st, thy Coach about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thy strong guard shall runne a Rout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Estriges; whose Curled plumes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sen'sd with thy Chariots rich perfumes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scent into the Aier shall throw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose naked Thyes shall grace the show;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst the Woodnimphs and those bred<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>330</span><span class="i0">Vpon the mountayns, o'r thy head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall beare a Canopy of flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tinseld with drops of Aprill showers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which shall make more glorious showes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then spangles, or your siluer Oas;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This bright nimph I'le doe for thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lirope.</i> Vie and reuie, like Chapmen profer'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would't be receaued what you haue offer'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye greater honour cannot doe me,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>340</span><span class="i0">If not building Altars to me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both by Water and by Land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bardge and Chariot at command;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swans vpon the Streame to rawe me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stags vpon the Land to drawe me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all this Pompe should I be seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What a pore thing were a Queene:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All delights in such excesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As but yee, who can expresse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus mounted should the Nimphes me see,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>350</span><span class="i0">All the troope would follow me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thinking by this state that I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would asume a Deitie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There be some in loue haue bin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I may commit that sinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if e'r I be in loue,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><span class="i0">With one of you I feare twill proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with which I cannot tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So my gallant Youths farewell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The third Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Doron</span>. <span class="smcap">Naijs</span>. <span class="smcap">Cloris</span>. <span class="smcap">Claia</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Dorilvs</span>. <span class="smcap">Cloe</span>. <span class="smcap">Mertilla</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Florimel</span>.</h4>
+
+<h4>With Nimphes and Forresters.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>Poetick Raptures, sacred fires,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>With which </i>Apollo<i> his inspires,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>This Nimphall gives you; and withall</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Obserues the Muses Festivall.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Amongst th' Elizians many mirthfull Feasts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At which the Muses are the certaine guests,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' obserue one Day with most Emperiall state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wise <i>Apollo</i> which they dedicate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Poets God; and to his Alters bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' enamel'd Brauery of the beauteous spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strew their Bowers with euery precious sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which still wax fresh, most trod on with their feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With most choice flowers each Nimph doth brade her hayre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And not the mean'st but bauldrick wise doth weare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some goodly Garland, and the most renown'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With curious Roseat Anadems are crown'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These being come into the place where they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yearely obserue the Orgies to that day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Muses from their Heliconian spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their brimfull Mazers to the feasting bring:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When with deepe Draughts out of those plenteous Bowles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The iocond Youth haue swild their thirsty soules,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fall enraged with a sacred heat,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">And when their braines doe once begin to sweat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They into braue and Stately numbers breake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not a word that any one doth speake<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><span class="i0">But tis Prophetick, and so strangely farre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their high fury they transported are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As there's not one, on any thing can straine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by another answred is againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the same Rapture, which all sit to heare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When as two Youths that soundly liquord were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Dorilus</i> and <i>Doron</i>, two as noble swayns<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">As euer kept on the Elizian playns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First by their signes attention hauing woonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus they the Reuels frolikly begunne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Come </i>Dorilus<i>, let vs be brave,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In lofty numbers let vs raue,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With Rymes I will inrich thee.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>Content say I, then bid the base,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our wits shall runne the Wildgoosechase,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Spurre vp, or I will swich thee.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2"><i>And now the day begins to creepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vpon the world at leasure.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaues,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The West winde stroaks the velvit leaues</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And kisses them at pleasure.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>The spinners webs twixt spray and spray,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The top of euery bush make gay,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By filmy coards there dangling.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>For now the last dayes euening dew</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Euen to the full it selfe doth shew,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2"><i>Each bough with Pearle bespangling.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>O Boy how thy abundant vaine</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Euen like a Flood breaks from thy braine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Nor can thy Muse be gaged.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>Why nature forth did neuer bring</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>A man that like to me can sing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>If once I be enraged.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Why </i>Dorilus<i> I in my skill</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Nay beare back to his springing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>And I into a Trance most deepe</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>When fain'st they would be singing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Why </i>Dorilus<i> thou mak'st me mad,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And now my wits begin to gad,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>But sure I know not whither.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>O </i>Doron<i> let me hug thee then,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>There neuer was two madder men,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Then let vs on together.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. Hermes <i>the winged Horse bestrid,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i2"><i>And thorow thick and thin he rid,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And floundred throw the Fountaine.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>He spurd the Tit vntill he bled,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>So that at last he ran his head</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Against the forked Mountaine,</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>How sayst thou, but pyde </i>Iris<i> got</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Into great </i>Iunos<i> Chariot,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>I spake with one that saw her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>And there the pert and sawcy Elfe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Behau'd her as twere </i>Iuno's<i> selfe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i2"><i>And made the Peacocks draw her.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Ile borrow </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> fiery Iades,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With which about the world he trades,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And put them in my Plow.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>O thou most perfect frantique man,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Yet let thy rage be what it can,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Ile be as mad as thou.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Ile to great </i>Iove<i>, hap good, hap ill,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Though he with Thunder threat to kill,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And beg of him a boone.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>To swerue vp one of </i>Cynthias<i> beames,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And there to bath thee in the streames.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Discouerd in the Moone.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span><span class="i4">Doron. <i>Come frolick Youth and follow me,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>My frantique boy, and Ile show thee</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Countrey of the Fayries.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In noonshade of the Mistletow,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And where the Ph&#339;nix Aryes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i2"><i>The Caverns where the Winds are bred,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Since thus thou talkst of showing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That wondrous and eternall spring</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Whence th' Ocean hath its flowing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Doron. <i>We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Where snoring </i>Morpheus<i> doth keepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And wake the drowsy Groome.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Dorilus. <i>Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Stooles vpon the Floare we'll throw,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i2"><i>And roare about the Roome.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Muses here commanded them to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commending much the caridge of their Lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As greatly pleasd at this their madding Bout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heare how brauely they had borne it out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From first to the last, of which they were right glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By this they found that <i>Helicon</i> still had<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That vertue it did anciently retaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Orpheus Lynus</i> and th' Ascrean Swaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tooke lusty Rowses, which hath made their Rimes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">To last so long to all succeeding times.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now amongst this beauteous Beauie here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two wanton Nimphes, though dainty ones they were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Naijs</i> and <i>Cloe</i> in their female fits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Longing to show the sharpnesse of their wits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the <i>nine Sisters</i> speciall leaue doe craue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the next Bout they two might freely haue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hauing got the suffrages of all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus to their Rimeing instantly they fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><span class="i4">Naijs. <i>Amongst you all let us see</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i2"><i>Who ist opposes mee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Come on the proudest she</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To answere my dittye.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>Why </i>Naijs<i>, that am I,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Who dares thy pride defie.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And that we soone shall try</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Though thou be witty.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. Cloe <i>I scorne my Rime</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Should obserue feet or time,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Now I fall, then I clime,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i2"><i>Where i'st I dare not.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>Giue thy Invention wing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let her flert and fling,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Till downe the Rocks she ding,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For that I care not.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>This presence delights me,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>My freedome inuites me,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Season excytes me,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In Rime to be merry.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>And I beyond measure,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i2"><i>Am rauisht with pleasure,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To answer each Ceasure,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Untill thou beist weary.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>Behold the Rosye Dawne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Rises in Tinsild Lawne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And smiling seemes to fawne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vpon the mountaines.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>Awaked from her Dreames,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Shooting foorth goulden Beames</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Dansing vpon the Streames</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i2"><i>Courting the Fountaines.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>These more then sweet Showrets,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Intice vp these Flowrets,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To trim vp our Bowrets,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Perfuming our Coats.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><span class="i4">Cloe. <i>Whilst the Birds billing</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Each one with his Dilling</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The thickets still filling</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With Amorous Noets.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>The Bees vp in hony rould,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i2"><i>More then their thighes can hould,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Lapt in their liquid gould,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Their Treasure vs Bringing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>To these Rillets purling</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vpon the stones Curling,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And oft about wherling,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Dance tow'ard their springing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>The Wood-Nimphes sit singing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Each Groue with notes ringing</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Whilst fresh Ver is flinging</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i2"><i>Her Bounties abroad.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>So much as the Turtle,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Upon the low Mertle,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To the meads fertle,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Her cares doth unload.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>Nay 'tis a world to see,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In euery bush and Tree,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Birds with mirth and glee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Woo'd as they woe.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>The Robin and the Wren,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i2"><i>Every Cocke with his Hen,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Why should not we and men,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Doe as they doe.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>The Faires are hopping,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The small Flowers cropping,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And with dew dropping,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Skip thorow the Greaues.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>At Barly-breake they play</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Merrily all the day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>At night themselues they lay</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i2"><i>Vpon the soft leaues.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><span class="i4">Naijs. <i>The gentle winds sally,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vpon every Valley,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And many times dally</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And wantonly sport.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>About the fields tracing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Each other in chasing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And often imbracing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In amorous sort.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Naijs. <i>And Eccho oft doth tell</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i2"><i>Wondrous things from her Cell,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>As her what chance befell,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Learning to prattle.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloe. <i>And now she sits and mocks</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Shepherds and their flocks,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And the Heards from the Rocks</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Keeping their Cattle.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When to these Maids the Muses silence cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For 'twas the opinion of the Company,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were not these two taken of, that they<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i0">Would in their Conflict wholly spend the day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When as the Turne to <i>Florimel</i> next came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Nimph for Beauty of especiall name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet was she not so Iolly as the rest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though she were by her companions prest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet she by no intreaty would be wrought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sing, as by th' Elizian Lawes she ought:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When two bright Nimphes that her companions were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of all other onely held her deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mild <i>Claris</i> and <i>Mertilla</i>, with faire speech<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">Their most beloued <i>Florimel</i> beseech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'obserue the Muses, and the more to wooe her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They take their turnes, and thus they sing vnto her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Cloris. <i>Sing, </i>Florimel<i>, O sing, and wee</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our whole wealth will giue to thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>We'll rob the brim of euery Fountaine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Strip the sweets from euery Mountaine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>We will sweepe the curled valleys,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Brush the bancks that mound our allyes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>We will muster natures dainties</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i2"><i>When she wallowes in her plentyes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The lushyous smell of euery flower</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>New washt by an Aprill shower,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The Mistresse of her store we'll make thee</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That she for her selfe shall take thee;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Can there be a dainty thing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That's not thine if thou wilt sing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Mertilla. <i>When the dew in May distilleth,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And the Earths rich bosome filleth,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And with Pearle embrouds each Meadow,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i2"><i>We will make them like a widow,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And in all their Beauties dresse thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And of all their spoiles possesse thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With all the bounties Zephyre brings,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Breathing on the yearely springs,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The gaudy bloomes of euery Tree</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In their most beauty when they be,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>What is here that may delight thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Or to pleasure may excite thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Can there be a dainty thing</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>260</span><span class="i2"><i>That's not thine if thou wilt sing.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But <i>Florimel</i> still sullenly replyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will not sing at all, let that suffice:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When as a Nimph one of the merry ging<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing she no way could be wonne to sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, come, quoth she, ye vtterly vndoe her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With your intreaties, and your reuerence to her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For praise nor prayers, she careth not a pin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They that our froward <i>Florimel</i> would winne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must worke another way, let me come to her,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>270</span><span class="i0">Either Ile make her sing, or Ile vndoe her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Claia. Florimel <i>I thus coniure thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Since their gifts cannot alure thee;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By stampt Garlick, that doth stink</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>As any Clownes or Carriers feet,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Raysing blisters like the measels,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By the rough Burbreeding docks,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Rancker then the oldest Fox,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>280</span><span class="i2"><i>By filthy Hemblock, poysning more</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Then any vlcer or old sore,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By the Cockle in the corne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By Hempe in water that hath layne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By whose stench the Fish are slayne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>If you haue a minde to cast,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>May all filthy stinking Weeds</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>290</span><span class="i2"><i>That e'r bore leafe, or e'r had seeds,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Florimel <i>be giuen to thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>If thou'lt not sing as well as wee.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the rest the beauteous <i>Florimel</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Pleasd with the spell from <i>Claia</i> that came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As gamesome growes as any of them all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to this ditty instantly doth fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Florimel. <i>How in my thoughts should I contriue</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>300</span><span class="i2"><i>The Image I am framing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Which is so farre superlatiue,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>As tis beyond all naming;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>I would </i>Ioue<i> of my counsell make,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And haue his judgement in it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>But that I doubt he would mistake</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>How rightly to begin it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>It must be builded in the Ayre,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And tis my thoughts must doo it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And onely they must be the stayre</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>310</span><span class="i2"><i>From earth to mount me to it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For of my Sex I frame my Lay,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Each houre, our selues forsaking,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>How should I then finde out the way</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To this my vndertaking,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>When our weake Fancies working still,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Yet changing every minnit,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Will shew that it requires some skill,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Such difficulty's in it.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>We would things, yet we know not what,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>320</span><span class="i2"><i>And let our will be granted,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Yet instantly we finde in that</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Something vnthought of wanted:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>As with our motions varry,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With us they neuer tarry:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Some worldly crosse doth still attend,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>What long we haue in spinning,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And e'r we fully get the end</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>330</span><span class="i2"><i>We lose of our beginning.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our pollicies so peevish are,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That with themselues they wrangle,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And many times become the snare</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That soonest vs intangle;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For that the Loue we beare our Friends</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Though nere so strongly grounded,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Hath in it certaine oblique ends</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>If to the bottome sounded:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our owne well wishing making it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>340</span><span class="i2"><i>A pardonable Treason;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For that is deriud from witt,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And vnderpropt with reason.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For our Deare selues beloued sake</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>(Euen in the depth of passion)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Our Center though our selues we make,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Yet is not that our station;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>For whilst our Browes ambitious be</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And youth at hand awayts vs,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>It is a pretty thing to see</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>350</span><span class="i2"><i>How finely Beautie cheats vs,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And whilst with tyme we tryfling stand</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To practise Antique graces</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Age with a pale and withered hand</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Drawes Furowes in our faces.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span><span class="i0">When they which so desirous were before<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear her sing; desirous are far more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To haue her cease; and call to haue her stayd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she to much alredy had bewray'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as the <i>thrice three Sisters</i> thus had grac'd<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>360</span><span class="i0">Their Celebration, and themselues had plac'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon a Violet banck, in order all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they at will might view the Festifall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphs and all the lusty youth that were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this braue Nimphall, by them honored there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Gratifie the heauenly Gerles againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lastly prepare in state to entertaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those sacred Sisters, fairely and confer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On each of them, their prayse particular<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus the Nimphes to the nine Muses sung.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>370</span><span class="i0">When as the Youth and Forresters among<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That well prepared for this businesse were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Become the <i>Chorus</i>, and thus sung they there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. Clio <i>then first of those Celestiall nine</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That daily offer to the sacred shryne,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Of wise </i>Apollo<i>; Queene of Stories,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Thou that vindicat'st the glories</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Of passed ages, and renewst</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Their acts which euery day thou viewst,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And from a lethargy dost keepe</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>380</span><span class="i2"><i>Old nodding time, else prone to sleepe.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Clio <i>O craue of </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs, for his Altars with his holiest fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. Melpomine <i>thou melancholly Maid</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Next, to wise </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> we inuoke thy ayd,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In Buskins that dost stride the Stage,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And in thy deepe distracted rage,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In blood-shed that dost take delight,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>390</span><span class="i2"><i>Thy obiect the most fearfull sight,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That louest the sighes, the shreekes, and sounds</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Of horrors, that arise from wounds.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><span class="i4">Chorus. <i>Sad Muse, O craue of </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. <i>Comick </i>Thalia<i> then we come to thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Thou mirthfull Mayden, onely that in glee</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And loues deceits, thy pleasure tak'st,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>400</span><span class="i2"><i>Of which thy varying Scene that mak'st</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And in thy nimble Sock do'st stirre</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Loude laughter through the Theater,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That with the Peasant mak'st the sport,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>As well as with the better sort.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Thalia <i>craue of </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life, and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. Euterpe <i>next to thee we will proceed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>410</span><span class="i2"><i>That first sound'st out the Musick on the Reed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>With breath and fingers giu'ng life,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To the shrill Cornet and the Fyfe.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Teaching euery stop and kaye,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>To those vpon the Pipe that playe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Those which Wind-Instruments we call</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Or soft, or lowd, or greate, or small,</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Euterpe <i>aske of </i>Phebus<i> to inspire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>420</span><span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. Terpsichore <i>that of the Lute and Lyre,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And Instruments that sound with Cords and wyere,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That art the Mistres, to commaund</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The touch of the most Curious hand,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>When euery Quauer doth Imbrace</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>His like in a true Diapase,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And euery string his sound doth fill</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Toucht with the Finger or the Quill.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Terpsichore, <i>craue </i>Phebus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>430</span><span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. <i>Then </i>Erato<i> wise muse on thee we call,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In Lynes to vs that do'st demonstrate all,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Which neatly, with thy staffe and Bowe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Do'st measure, and proportion showe;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Motion and Gesture that dost teach</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That euery height and depth canst reach,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And do'st demonstrate by thy Art</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>440</span><span class="i2"><i>What nature else would not Impart.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. <i>Deare </i>Erato<i> craue </i>Phebus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. <i>To thee then braue </i>Caliope<i> we come</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Thou that maintain'st, the Trumpet, and the Drum;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The neighing Steed that louest to heare,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Clashing of Armes doth please thine eare,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In lofty Lines that do'st rehearse</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>450</span><span class="i2"><i>Things worthy of a thundring verse,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And at no tyme are heard to straine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>On ought that suits a Common vayne.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Caliope<i>, craue </i>Phebus<i> to inspire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Nimphes. <i>Then </i>Polyhymnia<i> most delicious Mayd,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In Rhetoricks Flowers that art arayd,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>In Tropes and Figures, richly drest,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>460</span><span class="i2"><i>The Fyled Phrase that louest best,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That art all Elocution, and</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The first that gau'st to vnderstand</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>The force of wordes in order plac'd</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And with a sweet deliuery grac'd.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. <i>Sweet Muse perswade our </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span><span class="i4">Nimphes. <i>Lofty </i>Vrania<i> then we call to thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>470</span><span class="i2"><i>To whom the Heauens for euer opened be,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Thou th' Asterismes by name dost call,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And shewst when they doe rise and fall</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Each Planets force, and dost diuine</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>His working, seated in his Signe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And how the starry Frame still roules</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Betwixt the fixed stedfast Poles.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Chorus. Vrania <i>aske of </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> to inspire</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Vs for his Altars with his holiest fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>480</span><span class="i2"><i>Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The fourth Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Cloris</span> and <span class="smcap">Mertilla</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10"><i>Chaste </i>Cloris<i> doth disclose the shames</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i10"><i>Of the Felician frantique Dames,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Mertilla <i>striues t' apease her woe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i10"><i>To golden wishes then they goe.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8"><i>Mertilla.</i> Why how now <i>Cloris</i>, what, thy head<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Bound with forsaken Willow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is the cold ground become thy bed?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The grasse become thy Pillow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">O let not those life-lightning eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In this sad vayle be shrowded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Which into mourning puts the Skyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To see them ouer-clowded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8"><i>Cloris.</i> O my <i>Mertilla</i> doe not praise<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i6">These Lampes so dimly burning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Such sad and sullen lights as these<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Were onely made for mourning:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Their obiects are the barren Rocks<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With aged Mosse o'r shaded;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Now whilst the Spring layes forth her Locks<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With blossomes brauely braded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span><span class="i8"><i>Mertilla.</i> O <i>Cloris</i>, Can there be a Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">O my deare Nimph, there may not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Wanting thine eyes it forth to bring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i6">Without which Nature cannot:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Say what it is that troubleth thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Encreast by thy concealing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Speake; sorrowes many times we see<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Are lesned by reuealing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8"><i>Cloris.</i> Being of late too vainely bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And but at too much leisure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Not with our Groves and Downes content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But surfetting in pleasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Felicia's Fields I would goe see,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i6">Where fame to me reported,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The choyce Nimphes of the world to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From meaner beauties sorted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Hoping that I from them might draw<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Some graces to delight me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But there such monstrous shapes I saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That to this houre affright me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Throw the thick Hayre, that thatch'd their Browes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Their eyes vpon me stared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like to those raging frantique Froes<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i6">For <i>Bacchus</i> Feasts prepared:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Their Bodies, although straight by kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Yet they so monstrous make them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That for huge Bags blowne vp with wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You very well may take them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Their Bowels in their Elbowes are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Whereon depend their Panches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And their deformed Armes by farre<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Made larger than their Hanches:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For their behauiour and their grace,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i6">Which likewise should haue priz'd them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Their manners were as beastly base<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As th' rags that so disguisd them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All Anticks, all so impudent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">So fashon'd out of fashion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As blacke <i>Cocytus</i> vp had sent<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><span class="i6">Her Fry into this nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Whose monstrousnesse doth so perplex,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of Reason and depriues me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That for their sakes I loath my sex,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i6">Which to this sadnesse driues me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8"><i>Mertilla.</i> O my deare <i>Cloris</i> be not sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nor with these Furies danted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But let these female fooles be mad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With Hellish pride inchanted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Let not thy noble thoughts descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">So low as their affections;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Whom neither counsell can amend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nor yet the Gods corrections:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Such mad folks ne'r let vs bemoane,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i6">But rather scorne their folly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And since we two are here alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To banish melancholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Leaue we this lowly creeping vayne<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Not worthy admiration,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And in a braue and lofty strayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Lets exercise our passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With wishes of each others good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From our abundant treasures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And in this iocund sprightly mood:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i6">Thus alter we our measures.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O I could wish this place were strewd with Roses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that this Banck were thickly thrumd with Grasse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As soft as Sleaue, or Sarcenet euer was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereon my <i>Cloris</i> her sweet selfe reposes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> O that these Dewes Rosewater were for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Mists Perfumes that hang vpon these thicks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that the Winds were all Aromaticks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which, if my wish could make them, they should bee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O that my Bottle one whole Diamond were,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">So fild with Nectar that a Flye might sup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at one draught that thou mightst drinke it vp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet a Carouse not good enough I feare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> That all the Pearle, the Seas, or Indias haue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were well dissolu'd, and thereof made a Lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou there in bathing, and I by to take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleasure to see thee cleerer than the Waue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O that the Hornes of all the Heards we see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were of fine gold, or else that euery horne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were like to that one of the Vnicorne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">And of all these, not one but were thy Fee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> O that their Hooues were Iuory, or some thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the pur'st Iuory farre more Christalline,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fild with the food wherewith the Gods doe dine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keepe thy Youth in a continuall Spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O that the sweets of all the Flowers that grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The labouring ayre would gather into one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Gardens, Fields, nor Meadowes leauing none,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all their Sweetnesse vpon thee would throw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> Nay that those sweet harmonious straines we heare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">Amongst the liuely Birds melodious Layes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they recording sit vpon the Sprayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were houering still for Musick at thine eare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O that thy name were caru'd on euery Tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as these plants still great, and greater grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy name deare Nimph might be enlarged so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That euery Groue and Coppis might speake thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> Nay would thy name vpon their Rynds were set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by the Nimphes so oft and lowdly spoken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As that the Ecchoes to that language broken<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Thy happy name might hourely counterfet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> O let the Spring still put sterne winter by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in rich Damaske let her Reuell still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it should doe if I might haue my will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou mightst still walke on her Tapistry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus since Fate no longer time alowes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder this broad and shady Sicamore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where now we sit, as we haue oft before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those yet vnborne shall offer vp their Vowes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The fift Nimphall</h4><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Claia</span>, <span class="smcap">Lelipa</span>, <span class="smcap">Clarinax</span> a Hermit.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Of Garlands, Anadems, and Wreathes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>This Nimphall nought but sweetnesse breathes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Presents you with delicious Posies,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>And with powerfull Simples closes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> See where old <i>Clarinax</i> is set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sundry Simples sorting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From whose experience we may get<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What worthy is reporting.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then <i>Lelipa</i> let vs draw neere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst he his weedes is weathering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see some powerfull Simples there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he hath late bin gathering.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hail gentle Hermit, <i>Iove</i> thee speed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And haue thee in his keeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euer helpe thee at thy need,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be thou awake or sleeping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Clarinax.</i> Ye payre of most Celestiall lights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Beauties three times burnisht,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who could expect such heauenly wights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Angels features furnisht;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What God doth guide you to this place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To blesse my homely Bower?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It cannot be but this high grace<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Proceeds from some high power;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The houres like hand-maids still attend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disposed at your pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ordayned to noe other end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to awaite your leasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Deawes drawne vp into the Aer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by your breathes perfumed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In little Clouds doe houer there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As loath to be consumed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Aer moues not but as you please,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">So much sweet Nimphes it owes you,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span><span class="i0">The winds doe cast them to their ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And amorously inclose you.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> Be not too lauish of thy praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou good Elizian Hermit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest some to heare such words as these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps may flattery tearme it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of your Simples something say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which may discourse affoord vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We know your knowledge lyes that way,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">With subiects you haue stor'd vs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> We know for Physick yours you get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which thus you heere are sorting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vpon garlands we are set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Wreathes and Posyes sporting:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> The Chaplet and the Anadem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The curled Tresses crowning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We looser Nimphes delight in them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not in your Wreathes renowning.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Clarinax.</i> The Garland long agoe was worne,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">As Time pleased to bestow it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Lawrell onely to adorne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Conquerer and the Poet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Palme his due, who vncontrould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On danger looking grauely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Fate had done the worst it could,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who bore his Fortunes brauely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most worthy of the Oken Wreath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Ancients him esteemed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in a Battle had from death<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Some man of worth redeemed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About his temples Grasse they tye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himselfe that so behaued<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In some strong Seedge by th' Enemy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A City that hath saued.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Wreath of Vervaine Herhauts weare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst our Garlands named,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being sent that dreadfull newes to beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Offensiue warre proclaimed.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><span class="i0">The Signe of Peace who first displayes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">The Oliue Wreath possesses:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Louer with the Myrtle Sprayes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adornes his crisped Tresses.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Loue the sad forsaken wight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Willow Garland weareth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Funerall man befitting night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The balefull Cipresse beareth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To <i>Pan</i> we dedicate the Pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose Slips the Shepherd graceth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Againe the Ivie and the Vine<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">On his, swolne <i>Bacchus</i> placeth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> The Boughes and Sprayes, of which you tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By you are rightly named,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we with those of pretious smell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And colours are enflamed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The noble Ancients to excite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men to doe things worth crowning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not vnperformed left a Rite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heighten their renowning:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they that those rewards deuis'd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">And those braue wights that wore them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By these base times, though poorely priz'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet Hermit we adore them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The store of euery fruitfull Field<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We Nimphes at will possessing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From that variety they yeeld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Get flowers for euery dressing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which a Garland Ile compose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then busily attend me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These flowers I for that purpose chose,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">But where I misse amend me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Clarinax.</i> Well <i>Claia</i> on with your intent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lets see how you will weaue it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which done, here for a monument<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hope with me, you'll leaue it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Here Damaske Roses, white and red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of my lap first take I,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span><span class="i0">Which still shall runne along the thred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My chiefest Flower this make I:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst these Roses in a row,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">Next place I Pinks in plenty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These double Daysyes then for show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will not this be dainty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pretty Pansy then Ile tye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Stones some Chaine inchasing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And next to them their neere Alye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The purple Violet placing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The curious choyce, Clove Iuly-flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose kinds hight the Carnation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sweetnesse of most soueraine power<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Shall helpe my Wreath to fashion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose sundry cullers of one kinde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First from one Root derived,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them in their seuerall sutes Ile binde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Garland so contriued;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A course of Cowslips then I'll stick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here and there though sparely<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pleasant Primrose downe Ile prick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Pearles, which will show rarely:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with these Marygolds Ile make<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">My Garland somewhat swelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Honysuckles then Ile take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose sweets shall helpe their smelling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Lilly and the Flower delice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For colour much contenting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that, I them doe only prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are but pore in senting:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Daffadill most dainty is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To match with these in meetnesse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Columbyne compar'd to this,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">All much alike for sweetnesse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These in their natures onely are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fit to embosse the border,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therefore Ile take especiall care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To place them in their order:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet-Williams, Campions, Sops-in-Wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One by another neatly:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><span class="i0">Thus haue I made this Wreath of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And finished it featly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> Your Garland thus you finisht haue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">Then as we haue attended<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your leasure, likewise let me craue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I may the like be friended.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those gaudy garish Flowers you chuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which our Nimphes are flaunting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which they at Feasts and Brydals vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sight and smell inchanting:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Chaplet me of Hearbs Ile make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then which though yours be brauer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet this of myne I'le vndertake<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0">Shall not be short in fauour.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Basill then I will begin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose scent is wondrous pleasing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Eglantine I'le next put in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sense with sweetnes seasing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then in my Lauender I'le lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Muscado put among it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here and there a leafe of Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which still shall runne along it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Germander, Marieram, and Tyme<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">Which vsed are for strewing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Hisop as an hearbe most pryme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here in my wreath bestowing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Balme and Mynt helps to make vp<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Chaplet, and for Tryall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Costmary that so likes the Cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And next it Penieryall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Burnet shall beare vp with this<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose leafe I greatly fansy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some Camomile doth not amisse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0">With Sauory and some Tansy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then heere and there I'le put a sprig<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Rosemary into it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus not too little or too big<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tis done if I can doe it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Clarinax.</i> <i>Claia</i> your Garland is most gaye,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><span class="i0">Compos'd of curious Flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so most louely <i>Lelipa</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Chaplet is of yours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In goodly Gardens yours you get<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">Where you your laps haue laded;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My symples are by Nature set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Groues and Fields vntraded.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Flowers most curiously you twyne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one his place supplying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But these rough harsher Hearbs of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About me rudely lying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which some dwarfish Weeds there be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some of a larger stature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some by experience as we see,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0">Whose names expresse their nature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heere is my Moly of much fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Magicks often vsed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mugwort and Night-shade for the same<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not by me abused;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Henbane, Popy, Hemblock here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Procuring Deadly sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which I doe minister with Feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not fit for each mans keeping.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heere holy Veruayne, and heere Dill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0">Against witchcraft much auailing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Horhound gainst the Mad dogs ill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By biting, neuer failing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Mandrake that procureth loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In poysning philters mixed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And makes the Barren fruitfull proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Root about them fixed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inchaunting Lunary here lyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Sorceries excelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this is Dictam, which we prize<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i0">Shot shafts and Darts expelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Saxifrage against the stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Powerfull is approued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Dodder by whose helpe alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ould Agues are remoued<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Mercury, here Helibore,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span><span class="i0">Ould Vlcers mundifying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Shepheards-Purse the Flux most sore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That helpes by the applying;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here wholsome Plantane, that the payne<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">Of Eyes and Eares appeases;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here cooling Sorrell that againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We vse in hot diseases:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The medcinable Mallow here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Asswaging sudaine Tumors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The iagged Polypodium there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To purge ould rotten humors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next these here Egremony is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That helpes the Serpents byting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blessed Betony by this,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i0">Whose cures deseruen writing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This All-heale, and so nam'd of right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New wounds so quickly healing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand more I could recyte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most worthy of Reuealing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that I hindred am by Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And busnesse doth preuent me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cure a mad man, which of late<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is from Felicia sent me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Nay then thou hast inough to doe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i0">We pity thy enduring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they are there infected soe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they are past thy curing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The sixt Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Silvivs</span>, <span class="smcap">Halcivs</span>, <span class="smcap">Melanthvs</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>A Woodman, Fisher, and a Swaine</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>This Nimphall through with mirth maintaine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Whose pleadings so the Nimphes doe please,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>That presently they giue them Bayes.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cleere had the day bin from the dawne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All chequerd was the Skye,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span><span class="i0">Thin Clouds like Scarfs of Cobweb Lawne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vayld Heauen's most glorious eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Winde had no more strength then this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That leasurely it blew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make one leafe the next to kisse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That closly by it grew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Rils that on the Pebbles playd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Might now be heard at will;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This world they onely Musick made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else euerything was still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Flowers like braue embraudred Gerles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lookt as they much desired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see whose head with orient Pearles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most curiously was tyred;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to it selfe the subtle Ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such souerainty assumes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it receiu'd too large a share<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">From natures rich perfumes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the Elizian Youth were met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were of most account,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to disport themselues were set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon an easy Mount:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neare which, of stately Firre and Pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There grew abundant store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Tree that weepeth Turpentine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shady Sicamore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst this merry youthfull trayne<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">A Forrester they had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Fisher, and a Shepheards swayne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A liuely Countrey Lad:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Betwixt which three a question grew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who should the worthiest be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which violently they pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor stickled would they be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it the Company doth please<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This ciuill strife to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Freely to heare what each of these<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">For his braue selfe could say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When first this Forrester (of all)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That <i>Silvius</i> had to name,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><span class="i0">To whom the Lot being cast doth fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth thus begin the Game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Silvius.</i> For my profession then, and for the life I lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All others to excell, thus for my selfe I plead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am the Prince of sports, the Forrest is my Fee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He's not vpon the Earth for pleasure liues like me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Morne no sooner puts her rosye Mantle on,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">But from my quyet Lodge I instantly am gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the melodious Birds from euery Bush and Bryer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the wilde spacious Wasts, make a continuall quire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The motlied Meadowes then, new vernisht with the Sunne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shute vp their spicy sweets vpon the winds that runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In easly ambling Gales, and softly seeme to pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it the longer might their lushiousnesse imbrace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am clad in youthfull Greene, I other colour, scorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My silken Bauldrick beares my Beugle, or my Horne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which setting to my Lips, I winde so lowd and shrill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">As makes the Ecchoes showte from euery neighbouring Hill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Doghooke at my Belt, to which my Lyam's tyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Sheafe of Arrowes by, my Woodknife at my Syde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Crosse-bow in my Hand, my Gaffle or my Rack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bend it when I please, or it I list to slack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Hound then in my Lyam, I by the Woodmans art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forecast, where I may lodge the goodly Hie-palm'd Hart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To viewe the grazing Heards, so sundry times I vse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where by the loftiest Head I know my Deare to chuse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to vnheard him then, I gallop o'r the ground<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Vpon my wel-breath'd Nag, to cheere my earning Hound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometime I pitch my Toyles the Deare aliue to take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometime I like the Cry, the deep-mouth'd Kennell make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then vnderneath my Horse, I staulke my game to strike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a single Dog to hunt him hurt, I like.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Siluians are to me true subiects, I their King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stately Hart, his Hind doth to my presence bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Buck his loued Doe, the Roe his tripping Mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before me to my Bower, whereas I sit in State.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Dryads, Hamadryads, the Satyres and the Fawnes<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Oft play at Hyde and Seeke before me on the Lawnes,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><span class="i0">The frisking Fayry oft when horned Cinthia shines<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before me as I walke dance wanton Matachynes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The numerous feathered flocks that the wild Forrests haunt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Siluan songs to me, in cheerefull dittyes chaunte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Shades like ample Sheelds, defend me from the Sunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through which me to refresh the gentle Riuelets runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No little bubling Brook from any Spring that falls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on the Pebbles playes me pretty Madrigals.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I' th' morne I clime the Hills, where wholsome winds do blow,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">At Noone-tyde to the Vales, and shady Groues below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'wards Euening I againe the Chrystall Floods frequent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In pleasure thus my life continually is spent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Princes and great Lords haue Pallaces, so I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue in the Forrests here, my Hall and Gallery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tall and stately Woods, which vnderneath are Plaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Groues my Gardens are, the Heath and Downes againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wide and spacious walkes, then say all what ye can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Forrester is still your only gallant man.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He of his speech scarce made an end,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">But him they load with prayse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphes most highly him commend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vow to giue him Bayes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He's now cryde vp of euery one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And who but onely he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Forrester's the man alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The worthyest of the three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When some then th' other farre more stayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wil'd them a while to pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there was more yet to be sayd,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">That might deserve applause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Halcius</i> his turne next plyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silence hauing wonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roome for the fisher man he cryes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus his Plea begunne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Halcius.</i> No Forrester, it so must not be borne away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But heare what for himselfe the Fisher first can say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Chrystall current Streames continually I keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where euery Pearle-pau'd Foard, and euery Blew-eyd deepe<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span><span class="i0">With me familiar are; when in my Boate being set,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">My Oare I take in hand, my Augle and my Net<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About me; like a Prince my selfe in state I steer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now vp, now downe the Streame, now am I here, now ther,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Pilot and the Fraught my selfe; and at my ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can land me where I list, or in what place I please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Siluer-scaled Sholes, about me in the Streames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As thick as ye discerne the Atoms in the Beames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neare to the shady Banck where slender Sallowes grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Willows their shag'd tops downe t'wards the waters bow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shove in with my Boat to sheeld me from the heat,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">Where chusing from my Bag, some prou'd especiall bayt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The goodly well growne Trout I with my Angle strike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with my bearded Wyer I take the rauenous Pike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of whom when I haue hould, he seldome breakes away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though at my Lynes full length, soe long I let him play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till by my hand I finde he well-nere wearyed be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When softly by degrees I drawe him vp to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lusty Samon to, I oft with Angling take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which me aboue the rest most Lordly sport doth make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who feeling he is caught, such Frisks and bounds doth fetch,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">And by his very strength my Line soe farre doth stretch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As draws my floating Corcke downe to the very ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wresting at my Rod, doth make my Boat turne round.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I neuer idle am, some tyme I bayt my Weeles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With which by night I take the dainty siluer Eeles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with my Draughtnet then, I sweepe the streaming Flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to my Tramell next, and Cast-net from the Mud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I beate the Scaly brood, noe hower I idely spend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wearied with my worke I bring the day to end:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Naijdes and Nymphes that in the Riuers keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">Which take into their care, the store of euery deepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the Flowery flags, the Bullrushes and Reed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That of the Spawne haue charge (abundantly to breed)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well mounted vpon Swans, their naked bodys lend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my discerning eye, and on my Boate attend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dance vpon the Waues, before me (for my sake)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To th' Musick the soft wynd vpon the Reeds doth make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for my pleasure more, the rougher Gods of Seas<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From <i>Neptune's</i> Court send in the blew Neriades,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><span class="i0">Which from his bracky Realme vpon the Billowes ride<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0">And beare the Riuers backe with euery streaming Tyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Billowes gainst my Boate, borne with delightfull Gales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft seeming as I rowe to tell me pretty tales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst Ropes of liquid Pearle still load my laboring Oares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As streacht vpon the Streame they stryke me to the Shores:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silent medowes seeme delighted with my Layes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As sitting in my Boate I sing my Lasses praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let them that like, the Forrester vp cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your noble Fisher is your only man say I.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This speech of <i>Halcius</i> turn'd the Tyde,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">And brought it so about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all vpon the Fisher cryde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he would beare it out;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him for the speech he made, to clap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who lent him not a hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said t'would be the Waters hap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite to put downe the Land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This while <i>Melanthus</i> silent sits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(For so the Shepheard hight)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hauing heard these dainty wits,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0">Each pleading for his right;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heare them honor'd in this wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His patience doth prouoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When for a Shepheard roome he cryes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for himselfe thus spoke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Melanthus.</i> Well Fisher you haue done, and Forrester for you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Tale is neatly tould, s'are both's to giue you due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now my turne comes next, then heare a Shepherd speak:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My watchfulnesse and care giues day scarce leaue to break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to the Fields I haste, my folded flock to see,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">Where when I finde, nor Woolfe, nor Fox, hath iniur'd me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I to my Bottle straight, and soundly baste my Throat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which done, some Country Song or Roundelay I roate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So merrily; that to the musick that I make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I Force the Larke to sing ere she be well awake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then <i>Baull</i> my cut-tayld Curre and I begin to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He o'r my Shephooke leapes, now th'one, now th'other way,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><span class="i0">Then on his hinder feet he doth himselfe aduance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tune, and to my note, my liuely Dog doth dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then whistle in my Fist, my fellow Swaynes to call,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0">Downe goe our Hooks and Scrips, and we to Nine-holes fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Dust-point, or at Quoyts, else are we at it hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All false and cheating Games, we Shepheards are debard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Suruaying of my sheepe if Ewe or Wether looke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though it were amisse, or with my Curre, or Crooke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I take it, and when once I finde what it doth ayle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It hardly hath that hurt, but that my skill can heale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when my carefull eye, I cast vpon my sheepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sort them in my Pens, and sorted soe I keepe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those that are bigst of Boane, I still reserue for breed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0">My Cullings I put off, or for the Chapman feed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the Euening doth approach I to my Bagpipe take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to my Grazing flocks such Musick then I make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they forbeare to feed; then me a King you see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I playing goe before, my Subiects followe me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Bell-weather most braue, before the rest doth stalke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Father of the flocke, and after him doth walke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My writhen-headed Ram, with Posyes crowned in pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast to his crooked hornes with Rybands neatly ty'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at our Shepheards Board that's cut out of the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i0">My fellow Swaynes and I together at it round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Greencheese, clouted Cream, with Flawns, and Custards, stord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whig, Sider, and with Whey, I domineer a Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When shering time is come I to the Riuer driue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My goodly well-fleec'd Flocks: (by pleasure thus I thriue)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which being washt at will; vpon the shering day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wooll I foorth in Loaks, fit for the wynder lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which vpon lusty heapes into my Coate I heaue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in the Handling feeles as soft as any Sleaue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When euery Ewe two Lambes, that yeaned hath that yeare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">About her new shorne neck a Chaplet then doth weare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Tarboxe, and my Scrip, my Bagpipe, at my back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Sheephooke in my hand, what can I say I lacke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He that a Scepter swayd, a sheephooke in his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath not disdaind to haue, for Shepheards then I stand;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span><span class="i0">Then Forester and you my Fisher cease your strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I say your Shepheard leads your onely merry life,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They had not cryd the Forester,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Fisher vp before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So much: but now the Nimphes preferre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i0">The Shephard ten tymes more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the Ging goes on his side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Minion him they make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him themselues they all apply'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all his partie take;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till some in their discretion cast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since first the strife begunne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all that from them there had past<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None absolutly wonne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That equall honour they should share;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i0">And their deserts to showe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For each a Garland they prepare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which they on them bestowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the choisest flowers that weare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which purposly they gather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With which they Crowne them, parting there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they came first together.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The seuenth Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Florimel</span>, <span class="smcap">Lelipa</span>, <span class="smcap">Naijs</span>, <span class="smcap">Codrvs</span> a
+Feriman.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>The Nimphes, the Queene of loue pursue,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Which oft doth hide her from their view:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>But lastly from th' Elizian Nation,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>She banisht is by Proclamation</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Florimel.</i> Deare <i>Lelipa</i>, where hast thou bin so long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was't not enough for thee to doe me wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rob me of thy selfe, but with more spight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To take my <i>Naijs</i> from me, my delight?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yee lazie Girles, your heads where haue ye layd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whil'st <i>Venus</i> here her anticke prankes hath playd?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> Nay <i>Florimel</i>, we should of you enquire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The onely Mayden, whom we all admire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Beauty, Wit, and Chastity, that you<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Amongst the rest of all our Virgin crue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In quest of her, that you so slacke should be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaue the charge to Naijs and to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Florimel.</i> Y'are much mistaken <i>Lelipa</i>, 'twas I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the Nimphes, that first did her descry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At our great Hunting, when as in the Chase<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amongst the rest, me thought I saw one face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So exceeding faire, and curious, yet vnknowne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I that face not possibly could owne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the course, so Goddesse like a gate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Each step so full of maiesty and state;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That with my selfe, I thus resolu'd that she<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lesse then a Goddesse (surely) could not be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus as <i>Idalia</i>, stedfastly I ey'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little Nimphe that kept close by her side<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I noted, as vnknowne as was the other,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which <i>Cupid</i> was disguis'd so by his mother.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little purblinde Rogue, if you had seene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You would haue thought he verily had beene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One of <i>Diana's</i> Votaries so clad,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">He euery thing so like a Huntresse had:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she had put false eyes into his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That very well he might vs all haue sped.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still they kept together in the Reare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as the Boy should haue shot at the Deare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shot amongst the Nimphes, which when I saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Closer vp to them I began to draw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fell to hearken, when they naught suspecting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because I seem'd them vtterly neglecting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard her say, my little <i>Cupid</i> too't,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Now Boy or neuer, at the Beuie shoot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haue at them <i>Venus</i> quoth the Boy anon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'le pierce the proud'st, had she a heart of stone:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that I cryde out, Treason, Treason, when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphes that were before, turning agen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To vnderstand the meaning of this cry,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><span class="i0">They out of sight were vanish't presently.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus but for me, the Mother and the Sonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here in Elizium, had vs all vndone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Naijs.</i> Beleeue me, gentle Maide, 'twas very well,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">But now heare me my beauteous <i>Florimel</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great <i>Mars</i> his Lemman being cryde out here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She to <i>Felicia</i> goes, still to be neare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' Elizian Nimphes, for at vs is her ayme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fond <i>Felicians</i> are her common game.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I vpon pleasure idly wandring thither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something worth laughter from those fooles to gather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Found her, who thus had lately beene surpriz'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fearing the like, had her faire selfe disguis'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like an old Witch, and gaue out to haue skill<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">In telling Fortunes either good or ill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that more nearly she with them might close,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She cut the Cornes, of dainty Ladies Toes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She gaue them Phisicke, either to coole or mooue them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And powders too to make their sweet Hearts loue them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her sonne <i>Cupid</i>, as her Zany went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carrying her boxes, whom she often sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To know of her faire Patients how they slept.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By which meanes she, and the blinde Archer crept<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into their fauours, who would often Toy,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">And tooke delight in sporting with the Boy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which many times amongst his waggish tricks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These wanton Wenches in the bosome prickes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they before which had some franticke fits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were by his Witchcraft quite out of their wits.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watching this Wisard, my minde gaue me still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She some Impostor was, and that this skill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was counterfeit, and had some other end.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For which discouery, as I did attend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her wrinckled vizard being very thin,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">My piercing eye perceiu'd her cleerer skin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the thicke Riuels perfectly to shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I perceiu'd a beauty so diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As that so clouded, I began to pry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little nearer, when I chanc't to spye<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span><span class="i0">That pretty Mole vpon her Cheeke, which when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw; suruaying euery part agen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon her left hand, I perceiu'd the skarre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which she receiued in the Troian warre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which when I found, I could not chuse but smile.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">She, who againe had noted me the while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, by my carriage, found I had descry'd her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slipt out of sight, and presently doth hide her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> Nay then my dainty Girles, I make no doubt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I my selfe as strangely found her out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As either of you both; in Field and Towne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When like a Pedlar she went vp and downe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she had got a pretty handsome Packe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which she had fardled neatly at her backe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And opening it, she had the perfect cry,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Come my faire Girles, let's see, what will you buy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here be fine night Maskes, plastred well within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To supple wrinckles, and to smooth the skin:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heer's Christall, Corall, Bugle, Iet, in Beads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cornelian Bracelets for my dainty Maids:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Periwigs and Searcloth-Gloues doth show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make their hands as white as Swan or Snow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then takes she forth a curious gilded boxe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was not opened but by double locks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Takes them aside, and doth a Paper spred,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">In which was painting both for white and red:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And next a piece of Silke, wherein there lyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the decay'd, false Breasts, false Teeth, false Eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the while shee's opening of her Packe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cupid</i> with's wings bound close downe to his backe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Playing the Tumbler on a Table gets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shewes the Ladies many pretty feats.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I seeing behinde him that he had such things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For well I knew no boy but he had wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I view'd his Mothers beauty, which to me<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Lesse then a Goddesse said, she could not be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that quoth I to her, this other day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As you doe now, so one that came this way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shew'd me a neate piece, with the needle wrought,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><span class="i0">How <i>Mars</i> and <i>Venus</i> were together caught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By polt-foot <i>Vulcan</i> in an Iron net;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It grieu'd me after that I chanc't to let,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It to goe from me: whereat waxing red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into her Hamper she hung downe her head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As she had stoup't some noueltie to seeke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">But 'twas indeed to hide her blushing Cheeke:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she her Trinkets trusseth vp anon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'r we were 'ware, and instantly was gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Florimel.</i> But hearke you Nimphes, amongst our idle prate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tis current newes through the Elizian State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That <i>Venus</i> and her Sonne were lately seene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here in <i>Elizium</i>, whence they oft haue beene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Banisht by our Edict, and yet still merry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were here in publique row'd o'r at the Ferry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where as 'tis said, the Ferryman and she<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">Had much discourse, she was so full of glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Codrus</i> much wondring at the blind Boyes Bow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Naijs.</i> And what it was, that easly you may know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Codrus</i> himselfe comes rowing here at hand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> <i>Codrus</i> Come hither, let your Whirry stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hope vpon you, ye will take no state<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because two Gods haue grac't your Boat of late;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good Ferry-man I pray thee let vs heare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What talke ye had, aboard thee whilst they were.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Codrus.</i> Why thus faire Nimphes.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0">As I a Fare had lately past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought that side to ply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard one as it were in haste;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Boate, a Boate, to cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which as I was aboute to bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And came to view my Fraught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thought I; what more then heauenly thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath fortune hither brought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She seeing mine eyes still on her were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soone, smilingly, quoth she;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0">Sirra, looke to your Roother there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why lookst thou thus at me?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span><span class="i0">And nimbly stept into my Boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her a little Lad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naked and blind, yet did I note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Bow and Shafts he had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And two Wings to his Shoulders fixt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which stood like little Sayles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With farre more various colours mixt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then be your Peacocks Tayles;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0">I seeing this little dapper Elfe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such Armes as these to beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth I thus softly to my selfe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What strange thing haue we here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I neuer saw the like thought I:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tis more then strange to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To haue a child haue wings to fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet want eyes to see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure this is some deuised toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or it transform'd hath bin,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0">For such a thing, halfe Bird, halfe Boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thinke was neuer seene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my Boat I turnd about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wistly viewd the Lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cleerely saw his eyes were out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Bow and Shafts he had.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As wistly she did me behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How likst thou him, quoth she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why well, quoth I; and better should,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had he but eyes to see.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0">How sayst thou honest friend, quoth she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wilt thou a Prentice take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thinke in time, though blind he be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Ferry-man hee'll make;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To guide my passage Boat quoth I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His fine hands were not made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hath beene bred too wantonly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To vndertake my trade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why helpe him to a Master then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth she, such Youths be scant,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0">It cannot be but there be men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That such a Boy do want.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><span class="i0">Quoth I, when you your best haue done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No better way you'll finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to a Harper binde your Sonne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since most of them are blind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The louely Mother and the Boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laught heartily thereat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As at some nimble iest or toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heare my homely Chat.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0">Quoth I, I pray you let me know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came he thus first to light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or by some sicknesse, hurt, or blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Depryued of his sight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay sure, quoth she, he thus was borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tis strange borne blind, quoth I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I feare you put this as a scorne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On my simplicity;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth she, thus blind I did him beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth I, if't be no lye,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>220</span><span class="i0">Then he 's the first blind man Ile sweare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere practisd Archery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man, quoth she, nay there you misse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's still a Boy as now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor to be elder then he is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gods will him alow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be no elder then he is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then sure he is some sprite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I straight replide, againe at this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Goddesse laught out right;<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>230</span><span class="i0">It is a mystery to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An Archer and yet blinde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth I againe, how can it be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he his marke should finde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Gods, quoth she, whose will it was<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he should want his sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he in something should surpasse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To recompence their spight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaue him this gift, though at his Game<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He still shot in the darke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>240</span><span class="i0">That he should haue so certaine ayme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As not to misse his marke.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span><span class="i0">By this time we were come a shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When me my Fare she payd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not a word she vttered more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor had I her bewrayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>Venus</i> nor of <i>Cupid</i> I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before did neuer heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that Fisher comming by<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, told me who they were.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>250</span><span class="i2"><i>Florimel.</i> Well: against them then proceed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As before we haue decreed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the Goddesse and her Child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be for euer hence exild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which <i>Lelipa</i> you shall proclaime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In our wise <i>Apollo's</i> name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Lelipa.</i> To all th' Elizian Nimphish Nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus we make our Proclamation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against <i>Venus</i> and her Sonne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the mischeefe they haue done,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>260</span><span class="i0">After the next last of May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fixt and peremtory day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If she or <i>Cupid</i> shall be found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon our Elizian ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Edict, meere Rogues shall make them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as such, who ere shall take them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them shall into prison put,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cupids</i> wings shall then be cut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Bow broken, and his Arrowes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giuen to Boyes to shoot at Sparrowes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>270</span><span class="i0">And this Vagabund be sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hauing had due punishment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mount <i>Cytheron</i>, which first fed him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where his wanton Mother bred him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there out of her protection<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dayly to receiue correction;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then her Pasport shall be made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to <i>Cyprus</i> Isle conuayd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at <i>Paphos</i> in her Shryne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where she hath been held diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>280</span><span class="i0">For her offences found contrite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There to liue an Anchorite.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The eight Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Mertilla</span>, <span class="smcap">Claia</span>, <span class="smcap">Cloris</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>A Nimph is marryed to a Fay,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Great preparations for the Day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>All Rites of Nuptials they recite you</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>To the Brydall and inuite you.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> But will our <i>Tita</i> wed this Fay?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Yea, and to morrow is the day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> But why should she bestow her selfe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon this dwarfish Fayry Elfe?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Why by her smalnesse you may finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she is of the Fayry kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore apt to chuse her make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence she did her begining take:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besides he 's deft and wondrous Ayrye,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And of the noblest of the Fayry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chiefe of the Crickets of much fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Fayry a most ancient name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to be briefe, 'tis cleerely done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pretty wench is woo'd and wonne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> If this be so, let vs prouide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Ornaments to fit our Bryde.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they knowing she doth come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From vs in <i>Elizium</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Queene <i>Mab</i> will looke she should be drest<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">In those attyres we thinke our best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therefore some curious things lets giue her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'r to her Spouse we her deliuer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> Ile haue a Iewell for her eare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Which for my sake Ile haue her weare)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'T shall be a Dewdrop, and therein<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Cupids I will haue a twinne,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span><span class="i0">Which strugling, with their wings shall break<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Bubble, out of which shall leak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So sweet a liquor as shall moue<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Each thing that smels, to be in loue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Beleeue me Gerle, this will be fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to this Pendant, then take mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Cup in fashion of a Fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Linxes piercing eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein there sticks a Sunny Ray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shot in through the cleerest day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose brightnesse <i>Venus</i> selfe did moue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therein to put her drinke of Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which for more strength she did distill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">The Limbeck was a <i>Ph&#339;nix</i> quill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this Cups delicious brinke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Fly approching but to drinke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Amber or some precious Gumme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It transparant doth become.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> For Iewels for her eares she's sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for a dressing for her head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thinke for her I haue a Tyer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all Fayryes shall admyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yellowes in the full-blowne Rose,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Which in the top it doth inclose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like drops of gold Oare shall be hung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon her Tresses, and among<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those scattered seeds (the eye to please)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wings of the Cantharides:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With some o' th' Raine-bow that doth raile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Moons in, in the Peacocks taile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose dainty colours being mixt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With th' other beauties, and so fixt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her louely Tresses shall appeare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">As though vpon a flame they were.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to be sure she shall be gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'll take those feathers from the Iay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About her eyes in Circlets set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be our <i>Tita's</i> Coronet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> Then dainty Girles I make no doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we shall neatly send her out:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let's amongst our selues agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">Most curiously laid on in Threaues:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all embroydery to supply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Powthred with flowers of Rosemary:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A trayle about the skirt shall runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Silkewormes finest, newly spunne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With th' smallest of the Spinners Clue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hauing done their worke, againe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These to the Church shall beare her Traine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which for our <i>Tita</i> we will make<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Of the cast slough of a Snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> And being led to meet her mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make sure that she want no state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With feathers from the Pheasants head:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mix'd with the plume of (so high price,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The precious bird of Paradice.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">Into a curious Canopy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Borne o're her head (by our enquiry)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> But all this while we haue forgot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> We had, for those I'le fit her now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shall be of the Lady-Cow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dainty shell vpon her backe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which as she holds a stately pace,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">Her Leg will wonderfully grace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> But then for musicke of the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This must be thought on for the Feast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> The Nightingale of birds most choyce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To doe her best shall straine her voyce;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to this bird to make a Set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That make a Quier of euery Bush.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for still musicke, we will keepe<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rest into their chambers gone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like those vpon Ropes that walke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tripping Fayry tricks shall play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The euening of the wedding day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hath not beene talk'd of yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Cloris.</i> Of leaues of Roses white and red,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Shall be the Couering of her bed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be the flower Imperiall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the Fringe, it all along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With azure Harebels shall be hung:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With downe stuft of the Butterflee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Mertilla.</i> Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now for our Prothalamion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Marriage song of all the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">A thing that much must grace our feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let vs practise then to sing it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere we before th' assembly bring it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We in Dialogues must doe it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The my dainty Girles set to it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>This day must </i>Tita<i> marryed be,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>But is it certaine that ye say,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Will she wed the Noble Faye?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0"><i>Such as the Gods at Banquets vse:</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And make proud the posts with posies:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Shute your sweets into the ayre,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Charge the morning to be fayre.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>To be married to a Faye.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>By whom then shall our Bride be led</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To the Temple to be wed.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>Onely by your selfe and I,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0"><i>Who that roomth should else supply?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>Come bright Girles, come altogether,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And bring all your offrings hither,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>All your goodly graces Leuye,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Come in Maiestie and state</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Our Brydall here to celebrate.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Faye.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>Whose lot wilt be the way to strow</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0"><i>On which to Church our Bride must goe?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>That I think as fit'st of all,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To liuely </i>Lelipa<i> will fall.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>Summon all the sweets that are,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To this nuptiall to repayre;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Till with their throngs themselues they smother,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Strongly styfling one another;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And at last they all consume,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And vanish in one rich perfume.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Faye.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>By whom must </i>Tita<i> married be,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>'Tis fit we all to that should see?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>The Priest he purposely doth come,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Th' Arch Flamyne of Elizium.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><span class="i2">Cloris. <i>With Tapers let the Temples shine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Load the Altars till there rise</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Clouds from the burnt sacrifice;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With your Sensors fling aloofe</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>180</span><span class="i0"><i>Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Fay.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>But comming backe when she is wed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Who breakes the Cake aboue her head.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>That shall </i>Mertilla<i>, for shee's tallest,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And our </i>Tita<i> is the smallest.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>Violins, strike vp aloud,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ply the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Let the nimble hand belabour</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>190</span><span class="i0"><i>The whistling Pipe, and drumbling Taber:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To the full the Bagpipe racke,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Till the swelling leather cracke.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Fay.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>But when to dyne she takes her seate</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>What shall be our </i>Tita's<i> meate?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>The Gods this Feast, as to begin,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Haue sent of their Ambrosia in.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Respas, and Elizian Cherry:</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>200</span><span class="i0"><i>The virgin honey from the flowers</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>In Hibla, wrought in </i>Flora's<i> bowers:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Carouse but in dissolued Pearle.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Fay.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Claia. <i>But when night comes, and she must goe</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span><span class="i2">Mertilla. <i>In the Posset must be brought,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>210</span><span class="i0"><i>And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cloris. <i>In Maskes, in Dances, and delight,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And reare Banquets spend the night:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Then about the Roome we ramble,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Scatter Nuts, and for them scramble:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mertilla. } <i>For our </i>Tita<i> is this day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Claia. &nbsp; &nbsp; } <i>Married to a noble Fay.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>The ninth Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Mvses</span> and <span class="smcap">Nimphs</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>The Muses spend their lofty layes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Vpon </i>Apollo<i> and his prayse;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>The Nimphs with Gems his Alter build,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>This Nimphall is with </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> fild.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A Temple of exceeding state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Nimphes and Muses rearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which they to <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> dedicate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Elizium euer cheering:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These Muses, and those Nimphes contend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Phane to <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> offring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which side the other should transcend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These praise, those prizes proffering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at this long appointed day,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Each one their largesse bringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those nine faire Sisters led the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus to <i>Apollo</i> singing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The Muses. <i>Thou youthfull God that guid'st the howres,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Muses thus implore thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>By all those Names, due to thy powers,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>By which we still adore thee.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sol<i>, </i>Tytan<i>, </i>Delius<i>, </i>Cynthius<i>, styles</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Much reuerence that have wonne thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>Deriu'd from Mountaines as from Iles</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0"><i>Where worship first was done thee.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Rich </i>Delos<i> brought thee forth diuine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thy Mother thither driven,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>At </i>Delphos<i> thy most sacred shrine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thy Oracles were giuen.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>In thy swift course from East to West,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>They minutes misse to finde thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That bear'st the morning on thy breast,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And leau'st the night behinde thee.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Vp to Olimpus top so steepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0"><i>Thy startling Coursers currying;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thence downe to Neptunes vasty deepe,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thy flaming Charriot hurrying.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eos<i>, </i>Ethon<i>, </i>Phlegon<i>, </i>Pirois<i>, proud,</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">The horses drawing the Chariot of the Sunne.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>Their lightning Maynes aduancing:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Breathing forth fire on euery cloud</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Vpon their Iourney prancing.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Whose sparkling hoofes, with gold for speed</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Are shod, to scape all dangers,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Where they upon Ambrosia feed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0"><i>In their celestiall Mangers.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Bright </i>Colatina<i>, that of hils</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">The mountaines first saluting the Sunne at his rising.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>Is Goddesse, and hath keeping</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Her Nimphes, the cleere </i>Oreades<i> wils</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>T'attend thee from thy sleeping.</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">* Supposed the God of earth.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>Great </i>*Demogorgon<i> feeles thy might,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>His Mynes about him heating:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Who through his bosome dart'st thy light,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Within the Center sweating.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0"><i>Thou </i>Minos<i> mou'st to heare thee:</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">One of the Iudges of hell.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Rockes feele in themselues a fire,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And rise vp to come neere thee.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>'Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hearbs by their natures calling:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Of which some opening at thy Rise,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And closing at thy falling.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Fayre </i>Hyacinth<i> thy most lou'd Lad,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That with the sledge thou sluest;</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>Hath in a flower the life he had,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0"><i>Whose root thou still renewest,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thy </i>Daphne<i> thy beloued Tree,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And thy deare </i>Clitia<i> yet we see,</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">A Nimph lou'd of <i>Apollo</i>, and by him changed into a flower.</div>
+<span class="i0"><i>Not time from thee can sunder;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>(Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which that fell Serpent </i>Python<i> slew,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Renowning thee for euer.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The </i>Actian<i> and the </i>Pythian<i> Games</i><br /></span>
+<div class="sidenote">Playes or Games in honor of <i>Apollo</i>.</div>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0"><i>Deuised were to praise thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With all th' </i>Apolinary<i> names</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That th' Ancients thought could raise thee.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To thee we'll haue erected,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which thou the God of Poesie</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Must care to haue protected:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With thy loud </i>Cinthus<i> that shall share,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With all his shady Bowers,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Nor </i>Licia's Cragus<i> shall compare</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0"><i>With this, for thee, of ours.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrust in amongst them thronging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desiring they might haue the due<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That was to them belonging.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are in his glories graced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it is we must build the Shryne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein they must be placed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which of those precious Gemmes we'll make<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">That Nature can affoord vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which from that plenty we will take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherewith we here have stor'd vs:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O glorious <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> most diuine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine Altars then we hallow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with those stones we build a Shryne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thee our wise <i>Apollo</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><span class="i2">The Nimphes. <i>No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>(Their numbers let vs muster)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>But hath from thy most powerfull beames</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0"><i>The Vertue and the Lustre;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The first is to be placed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That glory is of Diadems,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Them gracing, by them graced:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>In whom thy power the most is seene,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The raging fire refelling:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>For beauty most excelling,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Resisting poyson often prou'd</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0"><i>By those about that beare it.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou'd,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That doth reuiue the spirit,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Whose kinde to large extensure growne</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The colour so enflamed,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Is that admired mighty stone</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Carbunckle that's named,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which from it such a flaming light</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And radiency eiecteth,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That in the very dark'st of night</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0"><i>The eye to it directeth.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Of which who hath the keeping,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And much prouoketh sleeping:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Chrisolite, that doth resist</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thirst, proued, neuer failing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The purple colored Amatist,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>'Gainst strength of wine prevailing;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0"><i>Most soueraine ouer passion:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Sardonix approu'd by vs</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To master Incantation.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Then that celestiall colored stone</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which worne, there wearinesse is none,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And cureth melancholly:</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With golden vaines is graced;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Iaspis, of so various hew,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0"><i>Amongst our other placed;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Onix from the Ancients brought,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Of wondrous Estimation,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Shall in amongst the rest be wrought</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Our sacred Shryne to fashion;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The Topas, we'll stick here and there,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And sea-greene colored Berill,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And Turkesse, which who haps to beare</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Is often kept from perill,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To Selenite, of </i>Cynthia's<i> light,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>150</span><span class="i0"><i>So nam'd, with her still ranging,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which as she wanes or waxeth bright</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Its colours so are changing.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With Opalls, more then any one,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>We'll deck thine Altar fuller,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>For that of euery precious stone,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>It doth retaine some colour;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With bunches of Pearle Paragon</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thine Altars vnderpropping,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Whose base is the Cornelian,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>160</span><span class="i0"><i>Strong bleeding often stopping:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With th' Agot, very oft that is</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cut strangely in the Quarry,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As Nature ment to show in this,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>How she her selfe can varry:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Elizium well might store vs:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>But we content our selues with these</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That readiest lye before vs:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And thus O </i>Ph&#339;bus<i> most diuine</i><br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>170</span><span class="i0"><i>Thine Altars still we hallow,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And to thy Godhead reare this Shryne</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Our onely wise </i>Apollo<i>.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
+<h4>The tenth Nimphall</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Naiis</span>, <span class="smcap">Claia</span>, <span class="smcap">Corbilvs</span>, <span class="smcap">Satyre</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>A Satyre on Elizium lights,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Yet when they heare his iust complaint,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>They make him an Elizian Saint.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><i>Corbilus.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What might it be from which ye flye so fast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see your faces full of pallid feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though some perill followed on your flight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into what danger ye haue lately light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Naijs.</i> Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">As when kinde, loued <i>Corbilus</i> we saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When our much haste vs so much weakned had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So fell a monster lying there we found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem'd to vs in show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he's a very perfect Goat below,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">His crooked Cambrils arm'd with hoofe and hayre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Corbilus.</i> Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come and goe back and guide me to the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> How <i>Corbilus</i>; a Satyre doe you say?<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">How should he ouer high <i>Parnassus</i> hit?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span><span class="i0">Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But onely those the Muses will permit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Corbilus.</i> 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By beastly mens abhominable way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besyde he may be banisht his owne home<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By this base time, or be so much distrest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Naijs.</i> Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As at the first, when I and <i>Claia</i> saw him.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Corbilus.</i> 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lookes would say, that we may easly learne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How, and from whence, he to <i>Elizium</i> came.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set foot on the Elizian earth before?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Satyre.</i> O neuer aske, how I came to this place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What cannot strong necessity finde out?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rather bemoane my miserable case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With wild <i>Silvanus</i> and his woody crue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Forrests I, at liberty and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Nor any rightly can conceiue but we.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That faire <i>Felicia</i> which was but of late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands now in that most lamentable state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That not a Siluan will inhabit there;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><span class="i0">Where in the soft and most delicious shade,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">In heat of Summer we were wont to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the long day too short for vs we made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The slyding houres so slyly stole away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By <i>Cynthia's</i> light, and on the pleasant Lawne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">Till at the last, they lowder were then they.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once faire <i>Felicia</i>, but now quite defac'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i0">In humane Reason it could neuer be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those plagues their next posterity shall see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little Infant on the mothers Lap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not a Forrest in <i>Felicia</i> found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dig them caues for houses in the ground:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begging from thence that <i>Iove</i> would dart his fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span><span class="i0">This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">The name of their braue Ancestors to heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those braue Muses that their Country song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The right and honour that to them belong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i0">Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus am light into Elizium,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Naijs.</i> Poore silly creature, come along with vs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This place content in all abundance yeelds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>130</span><span class="i0">Of <i>Ioues</i> deare Daughters, where in shades they sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Claia.</i> Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Corbilus.</i> Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>140</span><span class="i0">And some like beasts in markets sold and bought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That haue no vnderstanding of their state:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to Elizium be thou welcome then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By that vile nation captiued againe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That many a glorious age their captiues were.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/11.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<h2>SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND'</h2>
+
+<h3>[From the Edition of 1593]</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yea she alone, next that eternall he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The expresse Image of eternitie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If this be wrought me my light to bereaue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or vgly <i>Saturne</i> from his combust sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh cleerest day-starre, honored of mine eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet sdaynst mine eyes should gaze vpon thy light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright morning sunne, who with thy sweet arise,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Expell'st the clouds of my harts lowring night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goddes reiecting sweetest sacrifice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of mine eyes teares ay offered to thine eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span><span class="i0">May purest heauens scorne my soules pure desires?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or holy shrines hate Pilgrims orizons?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May sacred temples gaynsay sacred prayers?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Saints refuse the poores deuotions?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Orphane thoughts with sorrow be you waind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When loues Religion shalbe thus prophayn'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet needes the earth must droope with visage sad,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">When siluer dewes been turn'd to bitter stormes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Cheerful <i>Welkin</i>, once in sables clad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her frownes foretell poore humaine creatures harmes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet for all to make amends for this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clouds sheed teares, and weepen at my misse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue iij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Beta</i> alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Queene of Virgins onely she:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And thou the Queene of floods shalt be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let all thy Nymphes be ioyfull then to see this happy day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy <i>Beta</i> now alone shalbe the subiect of my laye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest virelayes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come louely shepheards sit we down and chant our <i>Betas</i> prayse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And let vs sing so rare a verse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i4">Our <i>Betas</i> prayses to rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That little Birds shall silent be, to heare poore shepheards sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And riuers backward bend their course, and flow vnto the spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Range all thy swannes faire Thames together on a rancke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And place them duely one by one, vpon thy stately banck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then set together all agood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Recording to the siluer flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe you with her lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Osel and the Throstlecocke, chiefe musicke of our maye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O! see what troups of Nimphs been sporting on the strands,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">And they been blessed Nimphs of peace, with Oliues in their hands.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span><span class="i4">How meryly the Muses sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That all the flowry Medowes ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Beta</i> sits vpon the banck, in purple and in pall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she the Queene of Muses is, and weares the Corinall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Trim vp her Golden tresses with <i>Apollos</i> sacred tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honor thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Blessed Angels haue prepar'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A glorious Crowne for thy reward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not such a golden Crowne as haughty <i>C&aelig;sar</i> weares,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">But such a glittering starry Crowne as <i>Ariadne</i> beares.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Make her a goodly Chapilet of azur'd Colombine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglentine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bedeck our <i>Beta</i> all with Lillies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the dayntie Daffadillies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Roses damask, white, and red, and fairest flower delice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Cowslips of Jerusalem, and cloues of Paradice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O thou fayre torch of heauen, the days most dearest light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou bright shyning <i>Cinthya</i>, the glory of the night:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">You starres the eyes of heauen,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i4">And thou the glyding leuen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou O gorgeous <i>Iris</i> with all strange Colours dyd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she streams foorth her rayes, then dasht is all your pride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See how the day stands still, admiring of her face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And time loe stretcheth foorth her armes, thy <i>Beta</i> to imbrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Syrens sing sweete layes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Trytons sound her prayse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let thy billowes there proclaime thy <i>Betas</i> holy-day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">With whose sweete shadow, al thy bancks with peace preserued be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lawrell for Poets and Conquerours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And mirtle for Loues Paramours:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fame may be thy fruit, the boughes preseru'd by peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let the mournful Cipres die, now stormes and tempest cease.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span><span class="i0">Wee'l straw the shore with pearle where <i>Beta</i> walks alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we wil paue her princely Bower with richest Indian stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Perfume the ayre and make it sweete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For such a Goddesse it is meete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">No maruaile then although they so doe dazell humaine sight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sound out your trumpets then, from <i>London's</i> stately towres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To beate the stormie windes a back and calme the raging showres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Set too the Cornet and the flute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Orpharyon and the Lute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tune the Taber and the Pipe, to the sweet violons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And moue the thunder in the ayre, with lowdest Clarions.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Beta</i> long may thine Altars smoke, with yeerely sacrifice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And long thy sacred Temples may their Saboths solemnize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thy shepheards watch by day and night,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i4">Thy Mayds attend the holy light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy large empyre stretch her armes from east vnto the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou vnder thy feet mayst tread, that foule seuen-headed beast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue iv</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Melpomine</i> put on thy mourning Gaberdine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">with weeping verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">attend his hearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose blessed soule the heauens doe now enshrine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come Nymphs and with your Rebecks ring his knell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warble forth your wamenting harmony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at his drery fatall obsequie,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i4">with Cypres bowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">maske your fayre Browes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beat your breasts to chyme his burying peale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span><span class="i0">Thy birth-day was to all our ioye, the euen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on thy death this dolefull song we sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet Child of <i>Pan</i>, and the <i>Castalian</i> spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">vnto our endless mone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">from vs why art thou gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fill vp that sweete Angels quier in heauen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O whylome thou thy lasses dearest loue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">When with greene Lawrell she hath crowned thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Immortal mirror of all Poesie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">the Muses treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">the Graces pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reigning with Angels now in heauen aboue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our mirth is now depriu'd of all her glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Taburins in dolefull dumps are drownd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our viols want their sweet and pleasing sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">our melodie is mar'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">and we of ioyes debard,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">O wicked world so mutable and transitory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O dismall day, bereauer of delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O stormy winter, sourse of all our sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O most vntimely and eclipsed morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">to rob us quite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">of all delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darkening that starre which euer shone so bright.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh <i>Elphin</i>, <i>Elphin</i>, Though thou hence be gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In spight of death yet shalt thou liue for aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Poesie is garlanded with Baye:<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i4">and still shalt blaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">thy lasting prayse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose losse poore shepherds euer shall bemone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come Girles, and with Carnations decke his graue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With damaske Roses and the hyacynt:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come with sweete Williams, Marioram and Mynt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">with precious Balmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">with hymnes and psalmes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This funerall deserues no lesse at all to haue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span><span class="i0">But see where <i>Elphin</i> sits in fayre Elizia,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Feeding his flocke on yonder heauenly playne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come and behold, you louely shepheards swayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">piping his fill<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">on yonder hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tasting sweete <i>Nectar</i>, and <i>Ambrosia</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue vij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>Borrill.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh spightfull wayward wretched loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woe to <i>Venus</i> which did nurse thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heauens and earth thy plagues doe proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thoughts griefe, hearts woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hopes paine, bodies languish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enuies rage, sleepes foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fancies fraud, soules anguish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desires dread, mindes madnes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Secrets bewrayer, natures error,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sights deceit, sullens sadnes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speeches expence, Cupids terror,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Malcontents melancholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liues slaughter, deaths nurse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cares slaue, dotard's folly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fortunes bayte, world's curse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lookes theft, eyes blindnes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Selfes will, tongues treason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Paynes pleasure, wrongs kindnes,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Furies frensie, follies reason:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With cursing thee as I began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither God, neither man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither Fayrie, neither Feend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><i>Batte.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue is the heauens fayre aspect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue is the glorie of the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue only doth our liues direct,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue is our guyder from our birth,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span><span class="i0">Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue taught mine eyes the way to loue,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Loue raysed my conceit so hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue framd my hand his arte to proue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue gaue me first to Poesie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue is the Soueraigne of my will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue bound me first to loyalty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue was the first that fram'd my speech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue was the first that gaue me grace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue is my life and fortunes leech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue made the vertuous giue me place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Loue is the end of my desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue is the loadstarre of my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue makes my selfe, my selfe admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue seated my delights aboue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue placed honor in my brest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue made me learnings fauoret,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue made me liked of the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue first my minde on virtue set.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loue is my life, life is my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">loue is my whole felicity,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Loue is my sweete, sweete is my loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am in loue, and loue in mee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue viij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Farre in the countrey of <i>Arden</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There wond a knight hight <i>Cassemen</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">as bolde as <i>Isenbras</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell was he and eger bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In battell and in Tournament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">as was the good sir <i>Topas</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had as antique stories tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A daughter cleaped <i>Dowsabell</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">a mayden fayre and free:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And for she was her fathers heire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full well she was ycond the leyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">of mickle curtesie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silke wel couth she twist and twine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make the fine Marchpine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and with the needle werke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she couth helpe the priest to say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Mattens on a holyday,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and sing a Psalme in Kirke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She ware a frocke of frolicke greene,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Might well beseeme a mayden Queene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">which seemly was to see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hood to that so neat and fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In colour like the colombine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">ywrought full featously.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her feature all as fresh aboue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As is the grasse that grows by Doue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">as lyth as lasse of Kent:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As white as snow on peakish hull,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">or Swanne that swims in Trent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This mayden in a morne betime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Went forth when May was in her prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">to get sweet Cetywall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hony-suckle, the Harlocke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Lilly and the Lady-smocke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">to decke her summer hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus as she wandred here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ypicking of the bloomed Breere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">she chanced to espie<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">A shepheard sitting on a bancke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like <i>Chanteclere</i> he crowed crancke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and pip'd with merrie glee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He leard his sheepe as he him list,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he would whistle in his fist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">to feede about him round:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst he full many a caroll sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vntill the fields and medowes rung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and that the woods did sound:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fauour this same shepheards swayne,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">Was like the bedlam <i>Tamburlayne</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">which helde prowd Kings in awe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But meeke he was as Lamb mought be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ylike that gentle <i>Abel</i> he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">whom his lewd brother slaw.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This shepheard ware a sheepe gray cloke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was of the finest loke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">that could be cut with sheere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mittens were of Bauzens skinne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His cockers were of Cordiwin<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">his hood of Meniueere.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His aule and lingell in a thong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">his breech of Coyntrie blew:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full crispe and curled were his lockes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His browes as white as <i>Albion</i> rockes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">so like a louer true.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pyping still he spent the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So mery as the Popingay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">which liked <i>Dowsabell</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>70</span><span class="i0">That would she ought or would she nought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This lad would neuer from her thought:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">she in loue-longing fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At length she tucked vp her frocke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">White as the Lilly was her smocke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">she drew the shepheard nie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But then the shepheard pyp'd a good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all his sheepe forsooke their foode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">to heare his melodie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy sheepe quoth she cannot be leane,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>80</span><span class="i0">That haue a iolly shepheards swayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">the which can pipe so well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea but (sayth he) their shepheard may,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jf pyping thus he pine away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">in loue of <i>Dowsabell</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of loue fond boy take thou no keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth she, looke well vnto thy sheepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">lest they should hap to stray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth he, so had I done full well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I not seene fayre <i>Dowsabell</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>90</span><span class="i2">come forth to gather Maye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that she gan to vaile her head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her cheekes were like the Roses red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">but not a word she sayd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that the shepheard gan to frowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He threw his pretie pypes adowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and on the ground him layd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sayth she, I may not stay till night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaue my summer hall vndight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and all for long of thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>100</span><span class="i0">My Coate sayth he, nor yet my foulde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">except thou fauour me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sayth she yet leuer I were dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I should lose my maydenhead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and all for loue of men:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sayth he yet are you too vnkind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If in your heart you cannot finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">to loue vs now and then:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And J to thee will be as kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>110</span><span class="i0">As <i>Colin</i> was to <i>Rosalinde</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">of curtesie the flower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then will I be as true quoth she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As euer mayden yet might be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">vnto her Paramour:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that she bent her snowe-white knee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and him she sweetely kist.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that the shepheard whoop'd for ioy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth he, ther's neuer shepheards boy,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>120</span><span class="i2">that euer was so blist.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>[From the Edition of 1605]</h3>
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then this great Vniuerse no lesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can serue her prayses to expresse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Betwixt her eies the poles of Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The host of heauenly beautyes moue,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span><span class="i0">Depainted in their proper stories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well the fixd as wandring glories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which from their proper orbes not goe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether they gyre swift or slowe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where from their lips, when she doth speake,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">The musick of those sphears do breake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which their harmonious motion breedeth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From whose cheerfull breath proceedeth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That balmy sweetnes that giues birth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To euery ofspring of the earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her shape and cariage of which frame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In forme how well shee beares the same,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is that proportion heauens best treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereby it doth all poyze and measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that alone her happy sight<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Conteynes perfection and delight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vppon a bank with roses set about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where pretty turtles ioyning bil to bill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There little loue sore wounded lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bowe and arowes broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bedewd with teares from Venus eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh greeuous to be spoken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Where sticks the arrowe that poore hart did kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With whose sharp pile request him ere he die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the same to write his latest will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bid him send it backe to mee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At instant of his dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That cruell cruell shee may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My faith and her denying.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His chappell be a mournefull Cypresse Shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a chauntry Philomels sweet lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where prayers shall continually be made<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">By pilgrim louers passing by that way.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span><span class="i0">With Nymphes and shepheards yearly moane<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His timeles death beweeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In telling that my hart alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath his last will in keeping.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>[From the Edition of 1606]</h3>
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue vij</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now fye vpon thee wayward loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woe to <i>Venus</i> which did nurse thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heauen and earth thy plagues doe proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What art thou but th' extreamst madnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Natures first and only error<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That consum'st our daies in sadnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the minds Continuall terror:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walking in Cymerian blindnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">In thy courses voy'd of reason.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sharp reproofe thy only kindnesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In thy trust the highest treason?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both the Nymph and ruder swaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vexing with continuall anguish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which dost make the ould complaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the young to pyne and languishe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who thee keepes his care doth nurse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That seducest all to folly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blessing, bitterly doest curse,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Tending to destruction wholly:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus of thee as I began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So againe I make an end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither god neither man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither faiery, neither feend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6"><span class="smcap">Batte.</span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What is Loue but the desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the thing that fancy pleaseth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A holy and resistlesse fier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weake and strong alike that ceaseth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which not heauen hath power to let,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Nor wise nature cannot smother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereby <i>Phoebus</i> doth begette<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the vniuersall mother.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the euerlasting Chaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which together al things tied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vnmooued them retayne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by which they shall abide:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That concent we cleerely find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All things doth together drawe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so strong in euery kinde,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0">Subiects them to natures law.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose hie virtue number teaches<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which euery thing dooth mooue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the lowest depth that reaches<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the height of heauen aboue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Harmony that wisely found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the cunning hand doth strike<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereas euery amorous sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweetly marryes with his like.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tender cattell scarcely take<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i0">From their damm's the feelds to proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ech seeketh out a make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing liues that doth not loue:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not soe much as but the plant<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As nature euery thing doth payre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By it if the male it want<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth dislike and will not beare:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing then is like to loue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the which all creatures be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From it nere let me remooue<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i0">Nor let it remooue from me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ix</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10"><span class="smcap">Batte.</span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>Gorbo</i>, as thou cam'st this waye<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By yonder little hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or as thou through the fields didst straye<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sawst thou my <i>Daffadill</i>?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span><span class="i4">Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The colour maides delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And neuer hath her beauty seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But through a vale of white.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Then Roses richer to behold<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i4">That trim vp louers bowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Pansy and the Marigould<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Tho <i>Ph&#339;bus</i> Paramours.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Gorbo.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; Thou well describ'st the Daffadill<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">It is not full an hower<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Since by the spring neare yonder hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I saw that louely flower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Batte.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor news of her didst bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And yet my Daffadill more sweete,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i4">Then that by yonder spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Gorbo.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;I saw a shepheard that doth keepe<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In yonder field of Lillies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Was making (as he fed his sheepe)<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A wreathe of Daffadillies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Batte.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Yet <i>Gorbo</i> thou delud'st me stil<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My flower thou didst not see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For know my pretie <i>Daffadill</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Is worne of none but me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">To shew it selfe but neare her seate,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i4">No Lilly is so bould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Except to shade her from the heate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or keepe her from the colde:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Gorbo.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;Through yonder vale as I did passe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Descending from the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I met a smerking bony lasse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They call her <i>Daffadill</i>:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Whose presence as along she went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The prety flowers did greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As though their heads they downward bent,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i4">With homage to her feete.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span><span class="i4">And all the shepheards that were nie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From toppe of euery hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">There goes sweet <i>Daffadill</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Gorbo.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;I gentle shepheard, now with ioy<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou all my flockes dost fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That's she alone kind shepheards boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Let vs to <i>Daffadill</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ix</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Who's yonder in the vally set?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;O it is she whose sweets do stayne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The Lilly, Rose, or violet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; Why doth the Sunne against his kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;He pawseth almost stroken blind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With gazing on her heauenly eies:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i4">Which somtyme was their chiefe delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;Because they neede no other good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That liue in presence of her sight:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; How com those flowers to florish still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Not withering with sharpe winters breath?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;She hath robd nature of her skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And comforts all things with her breath:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; Why slide these brookes so slow away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As swift as the wild Roe that were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;O muse not shepheard that they stay,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i4">When they her heauenly voice do heare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; From whence com all these goodly swayns<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;From gathering garlands on the playnes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To crowne thy <i>Siluia</i> shepheards queen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>Motto.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; The sun that lights this world below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Perkin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp;These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thy <i>Syluia</i> is as chast, as fayre.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>From Eclogue ix</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Rowland.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;O she alone the shepheards Queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her Flocke that leades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The goddesse of these medes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">These mountaines and these plaines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Then be his beams that rule the yeare,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fy on that prayse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In striuing things to rayse:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That doth but make them lesse.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;That doe the flowery spring prolong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And keeps the plenteous summer young:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And doth asswage<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The wrathfull winters rage<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That would our flocks destroy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<i>Ioue</i> saw her brest that naked lay,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;A sight alone was fit for <i>Ioue</i> to see:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And swore it was the milkie way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Of all most pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The path (we vs assure)<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Vnto <i>Ioues</i> court to be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He saw her tresses hanging downe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And sayd that <i>Ariadnes</i> crowne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;With those compar'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The gods should not regard<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i6">Nor <i>Berenices</i> hayre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;They neuer needed <i>Cynthia's</i> light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;That soone gaue place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Amazed with her grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That did attend thy sheepe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Aboue where heauens hie glories are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When as she shall be placed in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Row:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;She shall be calld the shepheards starre,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i0"><i>Cho:</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And euermore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">We shepheards will adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Her setting and her rise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <img src="images/12.jpg"
+      alt="Decorative"
+      title="Decorative" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+<h2>APPENDIX</h2>
+
+
+<p>In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton's;
+chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends' books. The
+first song is from <i>England's Helicon</i>, and is, I think, too pretty to
+be lost. Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their
+inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of
+which there are doubtless a few still lacking. But I have tried to make
+the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.</p>
+
+
+<h4>From <i>England's Helicon</i> (1600) p. 97.</h4>
+
+<h4>Rowlands <i>Madrigall.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faire Loue rest thee heere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neuer yet was morne so cleere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweete be not vnkinde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me thy fauour finde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or else for loue I die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Harke this pretty bubling spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How it makes the Meadowes ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue now stand my friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heere let all sorrow end,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i2">And I will honour thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See where little <i>Cupid</i> lyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking babies in her eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Cupid</i> helpe me now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lend to me thy bowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To wound her that wounded me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heere is none to see or tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All our flocks are feeding by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Banke with Roses spred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh it is a dainty bed,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i2">Fit for my Loue and me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Harke the birds in yonder Groaue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How they chaunt vnto my Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loue be kind to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I haue beene to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For thou hast wonne my hart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span><span class="i0">Calme windes blow you faire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rock her thou gentle ayre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O the morne is noone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The euening comes too soone,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i2">To part my Loue and me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Roses and thy lips doo meete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh that life were halfe so sweete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who would respect his breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That might die such a death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh that life thus might die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All the bushes that be neere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sweet Nightingales beset,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hush sweete and be still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let them sing their fill,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>40</span><span class="i2">There's none our ioyes to let.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh why doo'st thou make such hast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is too early yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So soone from ioyes to flit<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Why art thou so vnkind?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See my little Lambkins runne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looke on them till I haue done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast not on the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rob me of her light,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>50</span><span class="i2">That liue but by her eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas, sweete Loue, we must depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Harke, my dogge begins to barke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some bodie's comming neere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shall not find vs heere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For feare of being chid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take my Garland and my Gloue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weare it for my sake my Loue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To morrow on the greene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shalt be our Sheepheards Queene,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>60</span><span class="i2">Crowned with Roses gay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10"><i>Mich. Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>FINIS.</h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+<h4>From T. Morley's <i>First Book of Ballets</i> (1595).</h4>
+
+<h4>Mr. M.D. to the Author.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such was old <i>Orpheus</i> cunning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sencelesse things drew neere him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heards of beasts to heare him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Morley! but this enchaunting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet thou needst not feare him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's <i>Legend of Humphrey Duke of
+Gloucester</i> (1600).</h4>
+
+<h4>To his friend, Master <i>Chr. M.</i> his Booke.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like as a man, on some aduenture bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That if the voyage (happily) be good:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They his good fortune freely may pertake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If otherwise it perrish in the flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On thy returne I put this little forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And if thy fortune prosper, I may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I haue some share, though most returne to thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><i>Mich. Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; <i>Holy Roode</i> (1609).</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To</i> <span class="smcap">M. Iohn Davies</span>, <i>my good friend</i>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>If with the </i>Muses<i> they will haue commerce:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Seldome at </i>Stawles<i>, me, this way men rehearse,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To mine </i>Inferiours<i>, not unto my </i>Betters:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>He stales his </i>Lines<i> that so doeth them disperse;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>I am so free, I loue not </i>Golden-fetters<i>.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And many </i>Lines<i> fore </i>Writers<i>, be but Setters</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To them which cheate with</i> Papers; <i>which doth pierse,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Often (my good </i>Iohn<i>; and I loue) thy</i> Letters<i>;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Which lend me Credit, as I lend my </i>Verse<i>.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Michael Drayton.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Prefixed to Sir David Murray's <i>Sophonisba</i> &amp;c. (1611).</h4>
+
+<h4><i>To my kinde friend</i> Da: Murray.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In new attire (and put most neatly on)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou <i>Murray</i> mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As when she sat on the Numidian throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a body of delicious ayres:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But breathing now vpon our colder shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That what she was, she's euery where the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">M. Drayton.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Among the Panegyrical Verses before Coryat's <i>Crudities</i> (1611).</h4>
+
+<h4><i>Incipit Michael Drayton</i>.</h4>
+
+<h4>A briefe Prologue to the verses <i>following</i>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Deare <i>Tom</i>, thy booke was like to come to light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They go before whose wits are at their noones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many there be that write before thy Booke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For whom (except here) who could euer looke?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice happy are all wee that had the Grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To haue our names set in this liuing place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most worthy man, with thee it is euen thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As men take <i>Dottrels</i>, so hast thou ta'n vs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which as a man his arme or leg doth set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">And we are all thy <i>Zanies</i>, thy true <i>Apes</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw this age (from what it was at first)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swolne, and so bigge, that it was like to burst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That who will thriue, must hazard his damnation:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As to dim heauen: I looked for Antichrist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or some new set of Diuels to sway hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worser then those, that in the <i>Chaos</i> fell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">At length it brought forth this: O most strange thing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Euer is hard'st to be deliuered.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thee wise <i>Coryate</i> we are taught to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great, with great men which is the way to grow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in a new straine thou com'st finely in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making thy selfe like those thou mean'st to winne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greatnesse to me seem'd euer full of feare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which thou found'st false at thy arriuing there,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span><span class="i0">Of the <i>Bermudas</i>, the example such,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Where not a ship vntill this time durst touch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kep't as suppos'd by hels infernall dogs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Fleet found their most honest wyld courteous hogs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liue vertuous <i>Coryate</i>, and for euer be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lik'd of such wise men, as are most like thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><i>Explicit Michael Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>Prefixed to William Browne's <i>Britannia's Pastorals</i> (1613).</h4>
+
+<h4>To his Friend the <span class="smcap">Avthor</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Driue forth thy Flocke, young Pastor, to that Plaine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where our old Shepheards wont their flocks to feed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To those cleare walkes, where many a skilfull Swaine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To'ards the calme eu'ning, tun'd his pleasant Reede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those, to the <i>Muses</i> once so sacred, Downes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As no rude foote might there presume to stand:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Now made the way of the vnworthiest Clownes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dig'd and plow'd vp with each vnhallowed hand)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If possible thou canst, redeeme those places,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Where, by the brim of many a siluer Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The learned Maydens, and delightfull Graces<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Often haue sate to heare our Shepheards sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where on those <i>Pines</i> the neighb'ring Groues among,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Now vtterly neglected in these dayes)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Garlands, Pipes, and Cornamutes were hong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The monuments of our deserued praise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So may thy Sheepe like, so thy Lambes increase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the Wolfe feede euer safe and free!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So maist thou thriue, among the learned prease,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">As thou young Shepheard art belou'd of mee!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's <i>Georgics</i> (1618).</h4>
+
+<h4>To my worthy friend Mr. <i>George Chapman</i>, and his translated <i>Hesiod</i>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><i>Chapman</i>; We finde by thy past-prized fraught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What wealth thou dost vpon this Land conferre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th'olde <i>Grecian</i> Prophets hither that hast brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their full words the true interpreter:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by thy trauell, strongly hast exprest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The large dimensions of the English tongue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deliuering them so well, the first and best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That to the world in Numbers euer sung.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou hast vnlock'd the treasury, wherein<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">All Art, and knowledge haue so long been hidden:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which, till the gracefull Muses did begin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here to inhabite, was to vs forbidden.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In blest <i>Elizivm</i> (in a place most fit)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnder that tree due to the <i>Delphian</i> God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mus&aelig;us</i>, and that <i>Iliad Singer</i> sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And neare to them that noble <i>Hesiod</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smoothing their rugged foreheads; and do smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After so many hundred yeares to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Poems read in this farre westerne Ile,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Translated from their ancient Greeke, by thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each his good <i>Genius</i> whispering in his eare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That with so lucky, and auspicious fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did still attend them, whilst they liuing were,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gaue their Verses such a lasting date.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where slightly passing by the <i>Thespian</i> spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many long after did but onely sup;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature, then fruitfull, forth these men did bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fetch deep Rowses from <i>Ioues</i> plentious cup.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In thy free labours (friend) then rest content,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">Feare not <i>Detraction</i>, neither fawne on <i>Praise</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When idle <i>Censure</i> all her force hath spent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Knowledge</i> can crowne her self with her owne Baies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their Lines, that haue so many liues outworne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cleerely expounded shall base Enuy scorne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><i>Michael Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+<h4>Prefixed to Book ij. of <i>Primaleon</i>, &amp;c. Translated by Anthony Munday
+(1619).</h4>
+
+<h4><i>OF THE WORKE</i> <i>and Translation.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>If in opinion of iudiciall wit,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Primaleons<i> sweet Invention well deserue:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Then he (no lesse) which hath translated it,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Which doth his sense, his forme, his phrase, obserue.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And in true method of his home-borne stile,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>(Following the fashion of a French conceate)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hath brought him heere into this famous Ile,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Where but a stranger, now hath made his seate.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>He liues a Prince, and comming in this sort,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Shall to his Countrey of your fame report.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">M.D.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>From <i>Annalia Dubrensia</i> (1636).</h4>
+
+<h4>TO MY NOBLE Friend Mr. <span class="smcap">Robert Dover</span>, on his braue annuall
+<i>Assemblies</i> vpon <i>Cotswold</i>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Douer, to doe thee Right, who will not striue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dost in these dull yron Times reuiue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The golden Ages glories; which poore Wee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had not so much as dream't on but for Thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As those braue <i>Grecians</i> in their happy dayes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Mount Olympus to their <i>Hercules</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ordain'd their games Olimpick, and so nam'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of that great Mountaine; for those pastimes fam'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where then their able Youth, Leapt, Wrestled, Ran,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>10</span><span class="i0">Threw the arm'd Dart; and honour'd was the <i>Man</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That was the Victor; In the Circute there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nimble Rider, and skill'd Chariotere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stroue for the Garland; In those noble Times<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There to their Harpes the Poets sang their Rimes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That whilst <i>Greece</i> flourisht, and was onely then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nurse of all Arts, and of all famous men:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Numbring their yeers, still their accounts they made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either from this or that <i>Olimpiade</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span><span class="i0">So <i>Douer</i>, from these <i>Games</i>, by thee begun,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>20</span><span class="i0">Wee'l reckon Ours, as time away doth run.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wee'l haue thy Statue in some Rocke cut out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With braue Inscriptions garnished about;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vnder written, <i>Loe, this was the man,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Dover</span>, <i>that first these noble Sports began.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ladds of the Hills, and Lasses of the Vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In many a song, and many a merry Tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall mention Thee; and hauing leaue to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vnto thy name shall make a Holy day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Cosswold</i> Shepheards as their flockes they keepe,<br /></span>
+<span class='linenum'>30</span><span class="i0">To put off lazie drowsinesse and sleepe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall sit to tell, and heare thy Story tould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That night shall come ere they their flocks can fould.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12"><i>Michaell Drayton.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p>
+<h2>NOTES</h2>
+
+
+<p>These notes are not intended to supply materials for the criticism of
+the text. So freely, indeed, did Drayton alter his poems for a fresh
+edition, that the ordinary machinery of an <i>apparatus criticus</i> would be
+overtasked if the attempt were made. All that has been undertaken here
+is to provide the requisite information in places where the text
+followed seemed open to suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>It may be added that the punctuation of the originals has in general
+been preserved; in a few flagrant instances, where the text as it stood
+was misleading, it has been modified. Such changes are not noted here.</p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_2'>2</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>1,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>14&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>vertues] vertuous 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_3'>3</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>3,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>1&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Ioue] loue 1599, 1602, 1605</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>3&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>them forth,] them, forth 1599. <i>But the 1619 version supports the reading in the text.</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_5'>5</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>8,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>8&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>men] ones 1599: women 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>9&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>to 1599, 1619: of 1594</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_6'>6</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>9,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>11&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>in] on 1602</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>10,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>her] his 1602: their 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_8'>8</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>14,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>14&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>anatomize 1599. <i>But there is ground for believing that</i> anotamize <i>represents a current pronunciation.</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_9'>9</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>15,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>10&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>She'st] ? She'll</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_10'>10</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>17,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>9&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Were] Where 1594</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>18,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>5&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Elizia] Elizium 1599</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_11'>11</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>20,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>10&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>whir-poole] whirl-poole 1602</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Helycon] Helicon 1602</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_14'>14</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>26,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>5&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Thy 1599 etc.: The 1594</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_15'>15</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>27,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Thus] This 1594</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>depriued] ? depraued</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_18'>18</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>33,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>3&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Wishing] Wisheth 1599</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span><a href='#Page_19'>19</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>36,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>13&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>And others] And eithers 1599</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_20'>20</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>37,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>euer-certaine] neuer-certaine 1602</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_28'>28</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>1,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>song] sung 1613</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_31'>31</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>10,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>2&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>bids] bad 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>my ... his] his ... my 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_37'>37</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>30,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>14&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>hollowed] halowed 1605: hallow'd 1619. <i>But cf.</i> <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, l. 18.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_38'>38</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>43,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>3&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Wherein 1602, 1605: Where, in 1619: Wherein 1599</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_39'>39</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>44,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Paynting] Panting 1608</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>8&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Wherein 1602, 1605, 1619: Where in 1599</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_40'>40</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>55,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>7&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>forces heere,] forces, here 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>56,</td>
+  <td align='right' colspan="2"><i>heading</i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>A Consonet] A Cansonet 1602</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_41'>41</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>57,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>13&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>yet] then 1595</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_42'>42</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>17,</td>
+  <td align='right'>ll.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4, 13&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Promethius] Prometheus 1605</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_43'>43</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>27,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>2&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Who can he loue? 1608: Who? can he loue: 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>They resolute,] They resolute? 1608, 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>31,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>4&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>appose] oppose 1608, 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>9&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>They 1619: The 1602, 1605, 1608</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>47,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>8&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>a 1619: and 1605, 1608</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_49'>49</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>51,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>1&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>to 1608: <i>omitted in</i> 1605</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_53'>53</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>21,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>11&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>soe] ? loe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>13&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Troth] Froth 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_71'>71</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>16&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>scowles] scoulds 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>37&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>whome 1606: whose 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>41&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>rage 1606: age 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_74'>74</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>25&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>he 1619: shee 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_77'>77</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>34&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>some few 1606: some, few 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>10&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>their] ? there.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_83'>83</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>72&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Stuck] <i>The emendation</i> Struck <i>is tempting (the form is somewhat uncommon but not unparalleled); especially in view of</i> l. 80.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_94'>94</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>18&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>hollow'd] <i>cf.</i> <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, 30, l. 14</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_96'>96</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>120&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>the] <i>no doubt a printer's error for</i> they</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_97'>97</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>125&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>be lowe] belowe 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_97'>97</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>126&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>whether] whethet 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span><a href='#Page_98'>98</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>37&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>it] <i>omitted in</i> 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_101'>101</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>62&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>be] ? been</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_104'>104</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>88&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>him] ? them</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>94&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>ceaze 1620: lease 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_106'>106</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>37&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>his] <i>omitted in</i> 1631</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>56&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>warnd] warne 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_110'>110</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>105&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Neat] Next <i>conj. Beeching</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_118'>118</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right' colspan="2"><i>heading</i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>Chaplaine] Chapliane 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_120'>120</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>81&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>extirpe 1631: extipe 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_146'>146</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>90&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>fett] sett <i>and</i> frett <i>have been conjectured.</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_153'>153</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>92&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>debate] delate 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_154'>154</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>115&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>claue] ? cleaue</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_156'>156</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>220&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>euery] euer 1627</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_174'>174</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>225&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>wither] whither 1630</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_177'>177</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>343&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>rawe] taw 1748</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_192'>192</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>18&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>there] they 1630</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_232'>232</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>12&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>vnto] vp to 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_233'>233</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>53&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>fame] faire 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_234'>234</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>66&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>moue] mock 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_238'>238</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>25&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>feature] features 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_240'>240</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>99&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>long] loue 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_242'>242</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'><i>Ecl.&nbsp;ij,</i></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>21&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>moane 1600: moans 1605</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_243'>243</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>55&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>But it if the Male doth want 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_244'>244</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>37&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>along she went 1619: she went along 1606</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_245'>245</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>43&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>lowe] loud 1600, 1619</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_247'>247</a>,</td>
+  <td align='left'></td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>37&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td align='left'>glories 1619: glorious 1606</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<h3>ERRATA</h3>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'>Page</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_94'>94</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>5</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>for</i> of said <i>read</i> said</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='center'>"</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#Page_173'>173</a>,</td>
+  <td align='right'>l.</td>
+  <td align='right'>170</td>
+  <td align='left'><i>for</i> you <i>read</i> your</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h5>
+Oxford<br />
+Printed at the Clarendon Press<br />
+By Horace Hart, M.A.<br />
+Printer to the University<br />
+</h5>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Minor Poems of Michael Drayton
+
+Author: Michael Drayton
+
+Editor: Cyril Brett
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2006 [EBook #17873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINOR POEMS OF MICHAEL DRAYTON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MINOR POEMS
+OF
+MICHAEL DRAYTON
+
+
+CHOSEN AND EDITED BY
+CYRIL BRETT
+
+
+OXFORD
+AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
+1907
+
+
+Henry Frowde, M.A.
+Publisher to the University of Oxford
+London, Edinburgh, New York
+and Toronto
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                              PAGE
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE                             iv
+
+INTRODUCTION                                     v
+
+SONNETS (1594)                                   1
+
+SONNETS (1599)                                  28
+
+SONNETS (1602)                                  42
+
+SONNETS (1605)                                  47
+
+SONNETS (1619)                                  51
+
+ODES (1619)                                     56
+
+ODES (1606)                                     85
+
+ELEGIES (1627)                                  88
+
+NIMPHIDIA (1627)                               124
+
+THE QUEST OF CYNTHIA                           144
+
+THE SHEPARDS SIRENA                            151
+
+THE MUSES ELIZIUM (1630)                       161
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1593)       231
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1605)       240
+
+SONGS FROM THE SHEPHERD'S GARLAND (1606)       242
+
+APPENDIX                                       248
+
+NOTES                                          257
+
+
+
+
+CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF DRAYTON'S LIFE AND WORKS
+
+
+1563       Drayton born at Hartshill, Warwickshire.
+
+1572?      Drayton a page in the house of Sir Henry Goodere, at
+                  Polesworth.
+
+c. 1574    Anne Goodere born?
+
+Feb. 1591  Drayton in London. _Harmony of Church_.
+
+1593       _Idea, the Shepherd's Garland_. _Legend of Peirs Gaveston_.
+
+1594       _Ideas Mirrour_. _Matilda_. Lucy Harrington becomes Countess
+                  of Bedford.
+
+1595       Sir Henry Goodere the elder dies. _Endimion and Phoebe_,
+                  dedicated to Lucy Bedford.
+
+1595-6     Anne Goodere married to Sir Henry Rainsford.
+
+1596       _Mortimeriados_. _Legends of Robert, Matilda, and Gaveston_.
+
+1597       _England's Heroical Epistles_.
+
+1598       Drayton already at work on the _Polyolbion_.
+
+1599       _Epistles_ and _Idea_ sonnets, new edition. (Date of Portrait
+                  of Drayton in National Portrait Gallery.)
+
+1600       _Sir John Oldcastle_.
+
+1602       New edition of _Epistles_ and _Idea_.
+
+1603       Drayton made an Esquire of the Bath, to Sir Walter Aston.
+                  _To the Maiestie of King James_. _Barons' Wars_.
+
+1604       _The Owle_. _A Pean Triumphall_. _Moyses in a Map of his
+                  Miracles_.
+
+1605       First collected edition of _Poems_. Another edition of
+                  _Idea_ and _Epistles_.
+
+1606       _Poemes Lyrick and Pastorall_. _Odes_. _Eglogs_.
+                  _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+1607       _Legend of Great Cromwell_.
+
+1608       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1609       Another edition of _Cromwell_.
+
+1610       Reprint of Collected Poems.
+
+1613       Reprint of Collected Poems. First Part of _Polyolbion_.
+
+1618       Two _Elegies_ in FitzGeoffrey's _Satyrs and Epigrames_.
+
+1619       Collected Folio edition of Poems.
+
+1620       Second edition of _Elegies_, and reprint of 1619 Poems.
+
+1622       _Polyolbion_ complete.
+
+1627       _Battle of Agincourt_, _Nymphidia_, &c.
+
+1630       _Muses Elizium_. _Noah's Floud_. _Moses his Birth and
+                  Miracles_. _David and Goliah_.
+
+1631       Second edition of 1627 folio. Drayton dies towards the end
+                  of the year.
+
+1636       Posthumous poem appeared in _Annalia Dubrensia_.
+
+1637       _Poems_.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Michael Drayton was born in 1563, at Hartshill, near Atherstone, in
+Warwickshire, where a cottage, said to have been his, is still shown. He
+early became a page to Sir Henry Goodere, at Polesworth Hall: his own
+words give the best picture of his early years here.[1] His education
+would seem to have been good, but ordinary; and it is very doubtful if
+he ever went to a university.[2] Besides the authors mentioned in the
+Epistle to Henry Reynolds, he was certainly familiar with Ovid and
+Horace, and possibly with Catullus: while there seems no reason to doubt
+that he read Greek, though it is quite true that his references to Greek
+authors do not prove any first-hand acquaintance. He understood French,
+and read Rabelais and the French sonneteers, and he seems to have been
+acquainted with Italian.[3] His knowledge of English literature was
+wide, and his judgement good: but his chief bent lay towards the
+history, legendary and otherwise, of his native country, and his vast
+stores of learning on this subject bore fruit in the _Polyolbion_.
+
+While still at Polesworth, Drayton fell in love with his patron's
+younger daughter, Anne;[4] and, though she married, in 1596, Sir Henry
+Rainsford of Clifford, Drayton continued his devotion to her for many
+years, and also became an intimate friend of her husband's, writing a
+sincere elegy on his death.[5] About February, 1591, Drayton paid a
+visit to London, and published his first work, the _Harmony of the
+Church_, a series of paraphrases from the Old Testament, in
+fourteen-syllabled verse of no particular vigour or grace. This book was
+immediately suppressed by order of Archbishop Whitgift, possibly because
+it was supposed to savour of Puritanism.[6] The author, however,
+published another edition in 1610; indeed, he seems to have had a
+fondness for this style of work; for in 1604 he published a dull poem,
+_Moyses in a Map of his Miracles_, re-issued in 1630 as _Moses his Birth
+and Miracles_. Accompanying this piece, in 1630, were two other 'Divine
+poems': _Noah's Floud_, and _David and Goliath_. _Noah's Floud_ is, in
+part, one of Drayton's happiest attempts at the catalogue style of
+bestiary; and Mr. Elton finds in it some foreshadowing of the manner of
+_Paradise Lost_. But, as a whole, Drayton's attempts in this direction
+deserve the oblivion into which they, in common with the similar
+productions of other authors, have fallen. In the dedication and preface
+to the _Harmony of the Church_ are some of the few traces of Euphuism
+shown in Drayton's work; passages in the _Heroical Epistles_ also occur
+to the mind.[7] He was always averse to affectation, literary or
+otherwise, and in Elegy viij deliberately condemns Lyly's fantastic
+style.
+
+Probably before Drayton went up to London, Sir Henry Goodere saw that he
+would stand in need of a patron more powerful than the master of
+Polesworth, and introduced him to the Earl and Countess of Bedford.
+Those who believe[8] Drayton to have been a Pope in petty spite,
+identify the 'Idea' of his earlier poems with Lucy, Countess of Bedford;
+though they are forced to acknowledge as self-evident that the 'Idea' of
+his later work is Anne, Lady Rainsford. They then proceed to say that
+Drayton, after consistently honouring the Countess in his verse for
+twelve years, abruptly transferred his allegiance, not forgetting to
+heap foul abuse on his former patroness, out of pique at some temporary
+withdrawal of favour. Not only is this directly contrary to all we know
+and can infer of Drayton's character, but Mr. Elton has decisively
+disproved it by a summary of bibliographical and other evidence. Into
+the question it is here unnecessary to enter, and it has been mentioned
+only because it alone, of the many Drayton-controversies, has cast any
+slur on the poet's reputation.
+
+In 1593, Drayton published _Idea, the Shepherds Garland_, in nine
+Eclogues; in 1606 he added a tenth, the best of all, to the new edition,
+and rearranged the order, so that the new eclogue became the ninth. In
+these Pastorals, while following the _Shepherds Calendar_ in many ways,
+he already displays something of the sturdy independence which
+characterized him through life. He abandons Spenser's quasi-rustic
+dialect, and, while keeping to most of the pastoral conventions, such as
+the singing-match and threnody, he contrives to introduce something of a
+more natural and homely strain. He keeps the political allusions,
+notably in the Eclogue containing the song in praise of _Beta_, who is,
+of course, Queen Elizabeth. But an over-bold remark in the last line of
+that song was struck out in 1606; and the new eclogue has no political
+reference. He is not ashamed to allude directly to Spenser; and indeed
+his direct debts are limited to a few scattered phrases, as in the
+_Ballad_ of _Dowsabel_. Almost to the end of his literary career,
+Drayton mentions Spenser with reverence and praise.[9]
+
+It is in the songs interspersed in the Eclogues that Drayton's best work
+at this time is to be found: already his metrical versatility is
+discernible; for though he doubtless remembered the many varieties of
+metre employed by Spenser in the _Calendar_, his verses already bear a
+stamp of their own. The long but impetuous lines, such as 'Trim up her
+golden tresses with Apollo's sacred tree', afford a striking contrast to
+the archaic romance-metre, derived from _Sir Thopas_ and its fellows,
+which appears in _Dowsabel_, and it again to the melancholy, murmuring
+cadences of the lament for Elphin. It must, however, be confessed that
+certain of the songs in the 1593 edition were full of recondite conceits
+and laboured antitheses, and were rightly struck out, to be replaced by
+lovelier poems, in the edition of 1606. The song to Beta was printed in
+_Englands Helicon_, 1600; here, for the first time, appeared the song of
+_Dead Love_, and for the only time, _Rowlands Madrigal_. In these songs,
+Drayton offends least in grammar, always a weak point with him; in the
+body of the Eclogues, in the earlier Sonnets, in the Odes, occur the
+most extraordinary and perplexing inversions. Quite the most striking
+feature of the Eclogues, especially in their later form, is their bold
+attempt at greater realism, at a breaking-away from the conventional
+images and scenery.
+
+Having paid his tribute to one poetic fashion, Drayton in 1594 fell in
+with the prevailing craze for sonneteering, and published _Ideas
+Mirrour_, a series of fifty-one 'amours' or sonnets, with two prefatory
+poems, one by Drayton and one by an unknown, signing himself _Gorbo il
+fidele_. The title of these poems Drayton possibly borrowed from the
+French sonneteer, de Pontoux: in their style much recollection of
+Sidney, Constable, and Daniel is traceable. They are ostensibly
+addressed to his mistress, and some of them are genuine in feeling; but
+many are merely imitative exercises in conceit; some, apparently, trials
+in metre. These amours were again printed, with the title of 'sonnets',
+in _1599_[10], 1600, _1602_, 1603, _1605_, 1608, 1610, 1613, _1619_, and
+1631, during the poet's lifetime. It is needless here to discuss whether
+Drayton were the 'rival poet' to Shakespeare, whether these sonnets were
+really addressed to a man, or merely to the ideal Platonic beauty; for
+those who are interested in these points, I subjoin references to the
+sonnets which touch upon them.[11] From the prentice-work evident in
+many of the _Amours_, it would seem that certain of them are among
+Drayton's earliest poems; but others show a craftsman not meanly
+advanced in his art. Nevertheless, with few exceptions, this first
+'bundle of sonnets' consists rather of trials of skill, bubbles of the
+mind; most of his sonnets which strike the reader as touched or
+penetrated with genuine passion belong to the editions from 1599
+onwards; implying that his love for Anne Goodere, if at all represented
+in these poems, grew with his years, for the 'love-parting' is first
+found in the edition of 1619. But for us the question should not be, are
+these sonnets genuine representations of the personal feeling of the
+poet? but rather, how far do they arouse or echo in us as individuals
+the universal passion? There are at least some of Drayton's sonnets
+which possess a direct, instant, and universal appeal, by reason of
+their simple force and straightforward ring; and not in virtue of any
+subtle charm of sound and rhythm, or overmastering splendour of diction
+or thought. Ornament vanishes, and soberness and simplicity increase, as
+we proceed in the editions of the sonnets. Drayton's chief attempt in
+the jewelled or ornamental style appeared in 1595, with the title of
+_Endimion and Phoebe_, and was, in a sense, an imitation of Marlowe's
+_Hero and Leander_. _Hero and Leander_ is, as Swinburne says, a shrine
+of Parian marble, illumined from within by a clear flame of passion;
+while _Endimion and Phoebe_ is rather a curiously wrought tapestry, such
+as that in Mortimer's Tower, woven in splendid and harmonious colours,
+wherein, however, the figures attain no clearness or subtlety of
+outline, and move in semi-conventional scenery. It is, none the less,
+graceful and impressive, and of a like musical fluency with other poems
+of its class, such as _Venus and Adonis_, or _Salmacis and
+Hermaphrodius_. Parts of it were re-set and spoilt in a 1606 publication
+of Drayton's, called _The Man in the Moone_.
+
+In 1593 and 1594 Drayton also published his earliest pieces on the
+mediaeval theme of the 'Falls of the Illustrious'; they were _Peirs
+Gavesson_ and _Matilda the faire and chaste daughter of the Lord Robert
+Fitzwater_. Here Drayton followed in the track of Boccaccio, Lydgate,
+and the _Mirrour for Magistrates_, walking in the way which Chaucer had
+derided in his _Monkes Tale_: and with only too great fidelity does
+Drayton adapt himself to the dullnesses of his model: fine rhetoric is
+not altogether wanting, and there is, of course, the consciousness that
+these subjects deal with the history of his beloved country, but neither
+these, nor _Robert, Duke of Normandy_ (1596), nor _Great Cromwell, Earl
+of Essex_ (1607 and 1609), nor the _Miseries of Margaret_ (1627) can
+escape the charge of tediousness.[12] _England's Heroical Epistles_ were
+first published in 1597, and other editions, of 1598, 1599, and 1602,
+contain new epistles. These are Drayton's first attempt to strike out a
+new and original vein of English poetry: they are a series of letters,
+modelled on Ovid's _Heroides_,[13] addressed by various pairs of lovers,
+famous in English history, to each other, and arranged in chronological
+order, from Henry II and Rosamond to Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guilford
+Dudley. They are, in a sense, the most important of Drayton's writings,
+and they have certainly been the most popular, up to the early
+nineteenth century. In these poems Drayton foreshadowed, and probably
+inspired, the smooth style of Fairfax, Waller, and Dryden. The metre,
+the grammar, and the thought, are all perfectly easy to follow, even
+though he employs many of the Ovidian 'turns' and 'clenches'. A certain
+attempt at realization of the different characters is observable, but
+the poems are fine rhetorical exercises rather than realizations of the
+dramatic and passionate possibilities of their themes. In 1596, Drayton,
+as we have seen, published the _Mortimeriados_, a kind of epic, with
+Mortimer as its hero, of the wars between King Edward II and the
+Barons.[14] It was written in the seven-line stanza of Chaucer's
+_Troilus and Cressida_ and Spenser's _Hymns_. On its republication in
+1603, with the title of the _Barons' Wars_, the metre was changed to
+_ottava rima_, and Drayton showed, in an excellent preface, that he
+fully appreciated the principles and the subtleties of the metrical art.
+While possessing many fine passages, the _Barons' Wars_ is somewhat
+dull, lacking much of the poetry of the older version; and does not
+escape from Drayton's own criticism of Daniel's Chronicle Poems: 'too
+much historian in verse, ... His rhymes were smooth, his metres well did
+close, But yet his manner better fitted prose'.[15] The description of
+Mortimer's Tower in the sixth book recalls the ornate style of _Endimion
+and Phoebe_, while the fifth book, describing the miseries of King
+Edward, is the most moving and dramatic. But there is a general
+lifelessness and lack of movement for which these purple passages barely
+atone. The cause of the production of so many chronicle poems about this
+time has been supposed[16] to be the desire of showing the horrors of
+civil war, at a time when the queen was growing old, and no successor
+had, as it seemed, been accepted. Also they were a kind of parallel to
+the Chronicle Play; and Drayton, in any case even if we grant him to
+have been influenced by the example of Daniel, never needed much
+incentive to treat a national theme.
+
+About this time, we find Drayton writing for the stage. It seems
+unnecessary here to discuss whether the writing of plays is evidence of
+Drayton's poverty, or his versatility;[17] but the fact remains that he
+had a hand in the production of about twenty. Of these, the only one
+which certainly survives is _The first part of the true and honorable
+historie, of the life of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham,_ &c.
+It is practically impossible to distinguish Drayton's share in this
+curious play, and it does not, therefore, materially assist the
+elucidation of the question whether he had any dramatic feeling or
+skill. It can be safely affirmed that the dramatic instinct was nor
+uppermost in his mind; he was a Seneca rather than a Euripides: but to
+deny him all dramatic idea, as does Dr. Whitaker, is too severe. There
+is decided, if slender, dramatic skill and feeling in certain of the
+_Nymphals_. Drayton's persons are usually, it must be said, rather
+figures in a tableau, or series of tableaux; but in the second and
+seventh _Nymphals_, and occasionally in the tenth, there is real
+dramatic movement. Closely connected with this question is the
+consideration of humour, which is wrongly denied to Drayton. Humour is
+observable first, perhaps, in the _Owle_ (1604); then in the _Ode to his
+Rival_ (1619); and later in the _Nymphidia_, _Shepheards Sirena_, and
+_Muses Elyzium_. The second _Nymphal_ shows us the quiet laughter, the
+humorous twinkle, with which Drayton writes at times. The subject is an
+[Greek: agon] or contest between two shepherds for the affections of a
+nymph called Lirope: Lalus is a vale-bred swain, of refined and elegant
+manners, skilled, nevertheless, in all manly sports and exercises;
+Cleon, no less a master in physical prowess, was nurtured by a hind in
+the mountains; the contrast between their manners is admirably
+sustained: Cleon is rough, inclined to be rude and scoffing, totally
+without tact, even where his mistress is concerned. Lalus remembers her
+upbringing and her tastes; he makes no unnecessary or ostentatious
+display of wealth; his gifts are simple and charming, while Cleon's are
+so grotesquely unsuited to a swain, that it is tempting to suppose that
+Drayton was quietly satirizing Marlowe's _Passionate Shepherd_. Lirope
+listens gravely to the swains in turn, and makes demure but provoking
+answers, raising each to the height of hope, and then casting them both
+down into the depths of despair; finally she refuses both, yet without
+altogether killing hope. Her first answer is a good specimen of her
+banter and of Drayton's humour.[18]
+
+On the accession of James I, Drayton hastened to greet the King with a
+somewhat laboured song _To the Maiestie of King James_; but this poem
+was apparently considered to be premature: he cried _Vivat Rex_, without
+having said, _Mortua est eheu Regina_, and accordingly he suffered the
+penalty of his 'forward pen',[19] and was severely neglected by King and
+Court. Throughout James's reign a darker and more satirical mood
+possesses Drayton, intruding at times even into his strenuous
+recreation-ground, the _Polyolbion_, and manifesting itself more
+directly in his satires, the _Owle_ (1604), the _Moon-Calfe_ (1627), the
+_Man in the Moone_ (1606), and his verse-letters and elegies; while his
+disappointment with the times, the country, and the King, flashes out
+occasionally even in the Odes, and is heard in his last publication, the
+_Muses Elizium_ (1630). To counterbalance the disappointment in his
+hopes from the King, Drayton found a new and life-long friend in Walter
+Aston, of Tixall, in Staffordshire; this gentleman was created Knight of
+the Bath by James, and made Drayton one of his esquires. By Aston's
+'continual bounty' the poet was able to devote himself almost entirely
+to more congenial literary work; for, while Meres speaks of the
+_Polyolbion_ in 1598,[20] and we may easily see that Drayton had the
+idea of that work at least as early as 1594,[21] yet he cannot have been
+able to give much time to it till now. Nevertheless, the 'declining and
+corrupt times' worked on Drayton's mind and grieved and darkened his
+soul, for we must remember that he was perfectly prosperous then and was
+not therefore incited to satire by bodily want or distress.
+
+In 1604 he published the _Owle_, a mild satire, under the form of a
+moral fable of government, reminding the reader a little of the
+_Parlement of Foules_. _The Man in the Moone_ (1606) is partly a
+recension of _Endimion and Phoebe_, but is a heterogeneous mass of
+weakly satire, of no particular merit. The _Moon-Calfe_ (1627) is
+Drayton's most savage and misanthropic excursion into the region of
+Satire; in which, though occasionally nobly ironic, he is more usually
+coarse and blustering, in the style of Marston.[22] In 1605 Drayton
+brought out his first 'collected poems', from which the _Eclogues_ and
+the _Owle_ are omitted; and in 1606 he published his _Poemes Lyrick and
+Pastorall_, _Odes_, _Eglogs_, _The Man in the Moone_. Of these the
+_Eglogs_ are a recension of the _Shepherd's Garland_ of 1593: we have
+already spoken of _The Man in the Moone_. The _Odes_ are by far the most
+important and striking feature of the book. In the preface, Drayton
+professes to be following Pindar, Anacreon, and Horace, though, as he
+modestly implies, at a great distance. Under the title of _Odes_ he
+includes a variety of subjects, and a variety of metres; ranging from an
+_Ode to his Harp_ or _to his Criticks_, to a _Ballad of Agincourt_, or a
+poem on the Rose compared with his Mistress. In the edition of 1619
+appeared several more Odes, including some of the best; while many of
+the others underwent careful revision, notably the _Ballad_. 'Sing wee
+the Rose,' perhaps because of its unintelligibility, and the Ode to his
+friend John Savage, perhaps because too closely imitated from Horace,
+were omitted. Drayton was not the first to use the term _Ode_ for a
+lyrical poem, in English: Soothern in 1584, and Daniel in 1592 had
+preceded him; but he was the first to give the name popularity in
+England, and to lift the kind as Ronsard had lifted it in France; and
+till the time of Cowper no other English poet showed mastery of the
+short, staccato measure of the Anacreontic as distinct from the Pindaric
+Ode. In the _Odes_ Drayton shows to the fullest extent his metrical
+versatility: he touches the Skeltonic metre, the long ten-syllabled line
+of the _Sacrifice to Apollo_; and ascends from the smooth and melodious
+rhythms of the _New Year_ through the inspiring harp-tones of the
+_Virginian Voyage_ to the clangour and swing of the _Ballad of
+Agincourt_. His grammar is possibly more distorted here than anywhere,
+but, as Mr. Elton says, 'these are the obstacles of any poet who uses
+measures of four or six syllables.' His tone throughout is rather that
+of the harp, as played, perhaps, in Polesworth Hall, than that of any
+other instrument; but in 1619 Drayton has taken to him the lute of Carew
+and his compeers. In 1619 the style is lighter, the fancy gayer, more
+exquisite, more recondite. Most of his few metaphysical conceits are to
+be found in these later Odes, as in the _Heart_, the _Valentine_, and
+the _Crier_. In the comparison of the two editions the nobler, if more
+strained, tone of the earlier is obvious; it is still Elizabethan, in
+its nobility of ideal and purpose, in its enthusiasm, in its belief and
+confidence in England and her men; and this even though we catch a
+glimpse of the Jacobean woe in the _Ode to John Savage_: the 1619 Odes
+are of a different world; their spirit is lighter, more insouciant in
+appearance, though perhaps studiedly so; the rhythms are more fantastic,
+with less of strength and firmness, though with more of grace and
+superficial beauty; even the very textual alterations, while usually
+increasing the grace and the music of the lines, remind the reader that
+something of the old spontaneity and freshness is gone.
+
+In 1607 and 1609, Drayton published two editions of the last and weakest
+of his mediaeval poems--the _Legend of Great Cromwell_; and for the next
+few years he produced nothing new, only attending to the publication of
+certain reprints and new editions. During this time, however, he was
+working steadily at the _Polyolbion_, helped by the patronage of Aston
+and of Prince Henry. In 1612-13, Drayton burst upon an indifferent world
+with the first part of the great poem, containing eighteen songs; the
+title-page will give the best idea of the contents and plan of the book:
+'Poly-Olbion or a Chorographicall Description of the Tracts, Riuers,
+Mountaines, Forests, and other Parts of this renowned Isle of Great
+Britaine, With intermixture of the most Remarquable Stories,
+Antiquities, Wonders, Rarityes, Pleasures, and Commodities of the same:
+Digested in a Poem by Michael Drayton, Esq. With a Table added, for
+direction to those occurrences of Story and Antiquities, whereunto the
+Course of the Volume easily leades not.' &c. On this work Drayton had
+been engaged for nearly the whole of his poetical career. The learning
+and research displayed in the poem are extraordinary, almost equalling
+the erudition of Selden in his Annotations to each Song. The first part
+was, for various reasons, a drug in the market, and Drayton found great
+difficulty in securing a publisher for the second part. But during the
+years from 1613 to 1622, he became acquainted with Drummond of
+Hawthornden through a common friend, Sir William Alexander of Menstry,
+afterwards Earl of Stirling. In 1618, Drayton starts a correspondence;
+and towards the end of the year mentions that he is corresponding also
+with Andro Hart, bookseller, of Edinburgh. The subject of his letter was
+probably the publication of the Second Part; which Drayton alludes to in
+a letter of 1619 thus: 'I have done twelve books more, that is from the
+eighteenth book, which was Kent, if you note it; all the East part and
+North to the river Tweed; but it lies by me; for the booksellers and I
+are in terms; they are a company of base knaves, whom I both scorn and
+kick at.' Finally, in 1622, Drayton got Marriott, Grismand, and Dewe, of
+London, to take the work, and it was published with a dedication to
+Prince Charles, who, after his brother's death, had given Drayton
+patronage. Drayton's preface to the Second Part is well worth quoting:
+
+'_To any that will read it._ When I first undertook this Poem, or, as
+some very skilful in this kind have pleased to term it, this Herculean
+labour, I was by some virtuous friends persuaded, that I should receive
+much comfort and encouragement therein; and for these reasons; First,
+that it was a new, clear, way, never before gone by any; then, that it
+contained all the Delicacies, Delights, and Rarities of this renowned
+Isle, interwoven with the Histories of the Britons, Saxons, Normans, and
+the later English: And further that there is scarcely any of the
+Nobility or Gentry of this land, but that he is in some way or other by
+his Blood interested therein. But it hath fallen out otherwise; for
+instead of that comfort, which my noble friends (from the freedom of
+their spirits) proposed as my due, I have met with barbarous ignorance,
+and base detraction; such a cloud hath the Devil drawn over the world's
+judgment, whose opinion is in few years fallen so far below all
+ballatry, that the lethargy is incurable: nay, some of the Stationers,
+that had the selling of the First Part of this Poem, because it went not
+so fast away in the sale, as some of their beastly and abominable trash,
+(a shame both to our language and nation) have either despitefully left
+out, or at least carelessly neglected the Epistles to the Readers, and
+so have cozened the buyers with unperfected books; which these that have
+undertaken the Second Part, have been forced to amend in the First, for
+the small number that are yet remaining in their hands. And some of our
+outlandish, unnatural, English, (I know not how otherwise to express
+them) stick not to say that there is nothing in this Island worth
+studying for, and take a great pride to be ignorant in any thing
+thereof; for these, since they delight in their folly, I wish it may be
+hereditary from them to their posterity, that their children may be
+begg'd for fools to the fifth generation, until it may be beyond the
+memory of man to know that there was ever other of their families:
+neither can this deter me from going on with Scotland, if means and time
+do not hinder me, to perform as much as I have promised in my First
+Song:
+
+    Till through the sleepy main, to _Thuly_ I have gone,
+    And seen the Frozen Isles, the cold _Deucalidon_,
+    Amongst whose iron Rocks, grim _Saturn_ yet remains
+    Bound in those gloomy caves with adamantine chains.
+
+And as for those cattle whereof I spake before, _Odi profanum vulgus, et
+arceo_, of which I account them, be they never so great, and so I leave
+them. To my friends, and the lovers of my labours, I wish all happiness.
+_Michael Drayton._'
+
+The _Polyolbion_ as a whole is easy and pleasant to read; and though in
+some parts it savours too much of a mere catalogue, yet it has many
+things truly poetical. The best books are perhaps the xiij, xiv, and xv,
+where he is on his own ground, and therefore naturally at his best. It
+is interesting to notice how much attention and space he devotes to
+Wales. He describes not only the 'wonders' but also the fauna and flora
+of each district; and of the two it would seem that the flowers
+interested him more. Though he was a keen observer of country sights and
+sounds (a fact sufficiently attested by the _Nymphidia_ and the
+_Nymphals_), it is evident that his interest in most things except
+flowers was rather momentary or conventional than continuous and
+heart-felt; but of the flowers he loves to talk, whether he weaves us a
+garland for the Thame's wedding, or gives us the contents of a maund of
+simples; and his love, if somewhat homely and unimaginative, is apparent
+enough. But the main inspiration, as it is the main theme, of the
+_Polyolbion_ is the glory and might and wealth, past, present, and
+future, of England, her possessions and her folk. Through all this
+glory, however, we catch the tone of Elizabethan sorrow over the 'Ruines
+of Time'; grief that all these mighty men and their works will perish
+and be forgotten, unless the poet makes them live for ever on the lips
+of men. Drayton's own voluminousness has defeated his purpose, and sunk
+his poem by its own bulk. Though it is difficult to go so far as Mr.
+Bullen, and say that the only thing better than a stroll in the
+_Polyolbion_ is one in a Sussex lane, it is still harder to agree with
+Canon Beeching, that 'there are few beauties on the road', the beauties
+are many, though of a quietly rural type, and the road, if long and
+winding, is of good surface, while its cranks constitute much of its
+charm. It is doubtless, from the outside, an appalling poem in these
+days of epitomes and monographs, but it certainly deserves to be rescued
+from oblivion and read.
+
+In 1618 Drayton contributed two _Elegies_ to Henry FitzGeoffrey's
+_Satyrs and Epigrames_. These were on the Lady Penelope Clifton, and on
+'the death of the three sonnes of the Lord Sheffield, drowned neere
+where Trent falleth into Humber'. Neither is remarkable save for
+far-fetched conceits; they were reprinted in 1610, and again, with many
+others, in the volume of 1627. In 1619 Drayton issued a folio collected
+edition of his works, and reprinted it in 1620. In 1627 followed a folio
+of wholly fresh matter, including the _Battaile of Agincourt_; _the
+Miseries of Queene Margarite_, _Nimphidia_, _Quest of Cinthia_,
+_Shepheards Sirena_, _Moone-Calfe_, and _Elegies upon sundry occasions_.
+The _Battaile of Agincourt_ is a somewhat otiose expansion, with purple
+patches, of the _Ballad_; it is, nevertheless, Drayton's best lengthy
+piece on a historical theme. Of the _Miseries of Queene Margarite_ and
+of the _Moone-Calfe_ we have already spoken. The most notable piece in
+the book is the _Nimphidia_. This poem of the Court of Fairy has
+'invention, grace, and humour', as Canon Beeching has said. It would be
+interesting to know exactly when it was composed and committed to paper,
+for it is thought that the three fairy poems in Herrick's _Hesperides_
+were written about 1626. In any case, Drayton's poem touches very
+little, and chiefly in the beginning, on the subject of any one of
+Herrick's three pieces. The style, execution, and impression left on the
+reader are quite different; even as they are totally unlike those of the
+_Midsummer Night's Dream_. Herrick's pieces are extraordinary
+combinations of the idea of 'King of Shadows', with a reality
+fantastically sober: the poems are steeped in moonlight. In Drayton all
+is clear day, or the most unromantic of nights; though everything is
+charming, there is no attempt at idealization, little of the higher
+faculty of imagination; but great realism, and much play of fancy.
+Herrick's verses were written by Cobweb and Moth together, Drayton's by
+Puck. Granting, however, the initial deficiency in subtlety of charm,
+the whole poem is inimitably graceful and piquant. The gay humour, the
+demure horror of the witchcraft, the terrible seriousness of the battle,
+wonderfully realize the mock-heroic gigantesque; and while there is not
+the minute accuracy of Gulliver in Lilliput, Drayton did not write for a
+sceptical or too-prying audience; quite half his readers believed more
+or less in fairies. In the metre of the poem Drayton again echoes that
+of the older romances, as he did in _Dowsabel_. In the _Quest of
+Cinthia_, while ostensibly we come to the real world of mortals, we are
+really in a non-existent land of pastoral convention, in the most
+pseudo-Arcadian atmosphere in which Drayton ever worked. The metre and
+the language are, however, charmingly managed. _The Shepheards Sirena_
+is a poem, apparently, 'where more is meant than meets the ear,' as so
+often in pastoral poetry[23]; it is difficult to see exactly what is
+meant; but the Jacobean strain of doubt and fear is there, and the poem
+would seem to have been written some time earlier than 1627. The
+_Elegies_ comprise a great variety of styles and themes; some are really
+threnodies, some verse-letters, some laments over the evil times, and
+one a summary of Drayton's literary opinions. He employs the couplet in
+his _Elegies_ with a masterly hand, often with a deliberately rugged
+effect, as in his broader Marstonic satire addressed to William Browne;
+while the line of greater smoothness but equal strength is to be seen in
+the letters to Sandys and Jeffreys. He is fantastic and conceited in
+most of the threnodies; but, as is natural, that on his old friend, Sir
+Henry Rainsford, is least artificial and fullest of true feeling. The
+epistle to _Henery Reynolds. Of Poets and Poesie_ shows Drayton as a
+sane and sagacious critic, ready to see the good, but keen to discern
+the weakness also; perhaps the clearest evidence of his critical skill
+is the way in which nearly all of his judgements on his contemporaries
+coincide with the received modern opinions.
+
+In his later years Drayton enjoyed the patronage of the third Earl and
+Countess of Dorset; and in _1630_ he published his last volume, the
+_Muses Elizium_, of which he dedicated the pastoral part to the Earl,
+and the three divine poems at the end to the Countess. The _Muses
+Elizium_ proper consists of Ten Pastorals or Nymphals, prefaced by a
+_Description of Elizium_. The three divine poems have been mentioned
+before, and were _Noah's Floud_, _Moses his Birth and Miracles_, and
+_David and Goliah_. The _Nymphals_ are the crown and summary of much of
+the best in Drayton's work. Here he departed from the conventional type
+of pastoral, even more than in the _Shepherd's Garland_; but to say that
+he sang of English rustic life would hardly be true: the sixth
+_Nymphal_, allowing for a few pardonable exaggerations by the
+competitors, is almost all English, if we except the names; so is the
+tenth with the same exception; the first and fourth might take place
+anywhere, but are not likely in any country; the second is more
+conventional; the fifth is almost, but not quite, English; the third,
+seventh, and ninth are avowedly classical in theme; while the eighth is
+a more delicate and subtle fairy poem than the _Nymphidia_. The fourth
+and tenth _Nymphals_ are also touched with the sadder, almost satiric
+vein; the former inveighing against the English imitation of foreigners
+and love of extravagance in dress; while the tenth complains of the
+improvident and wasteful felling of trees in the English forests. This
+last _Nymphal_, though designedly an epilogue, is probably rather a
+warning than a despairing lament, even though we conceive the old satyr
+to be Drayton himself. As a whole the _Nymphals_ show Drayton at his
+happiest and lightest in style and metre; at his moments of greatest
+serenity and even gaiety; an atmosphere of sunshine seems to envelope
+them all, though the sun sink behind a cloud in the last. His music now
+is that of a rippling stream, whereas in his earlier days he spoke
+weightier and more sonorous words, with a mouth of gold.[24]
+
+To estimate the poetical faculty of Drayton is a somewhat perplexing
+task; for, while rarely subtle, or rising to empyrean heights, he wrote
+in such varied styles, on such various themes, that the task, at first,
+seems that of criticizing many poets, not one. But through all his work
+runs the same eminently English spirit, the same honesty and clearness
+of idea, the same stolidity of purpose, and not infrequently of
+execution also; the same enthusiasm characterizes all his earlier, and
+much of his later work; the enthusiasm especially characteristic of
+Elizabethan England, and shown by Drayton in his passion for England and
+the English, in his triumphant joy in their splendid past, and his
+certainty of their future glory. As a poet, he lacked imagination and
+fine fury; he supplied their place by the airiest and clearest of
+fancies, by the strenuous labour of a great brain illumined by the
+steady flame of love for his country and for his lady. Mr. Courthope has
+said that he lacked loftiness and resolution of artistic purpose;
+without these, we ask, how could a man, not lavishly dowered with poetry
+in his soul, have achieved so much of it? It was his very fixity and
+loftiness of purpose, his English stubbornness and doggedness of
+resolution that enabled him to surmount so many obstacles of style and
+metre, of subject and thought. His two purposes, of glorifying his
+mistress and his friends, and of sounding England's glories past and
+future, while insisting on the dangers of a present decadence, never
+flagged or failed. All his poetry up to 1627 has this object directly or
+secondarily; and much after this date. Of the more abstract and
+universal aspects of his art he had not much conception; but he caught
+eagerly at the fashionable belief in the eternizing power of poetry; and
+had it not been that, where his patriotism was uppermost, he was
+deficient in humour and sense of proportion, he would have succeeded
+better: as it is, his more directly patriotic pieces are usually the
+dullest or longest of his works. He requires, like all other poets, the
+impulse of an absolutely personal and individual feeling, a moment of
+more intimate sympathy, to rouse him to his heights of song. Thus the
+_Ballad of Agincourt_ is on the very theme of all patriotic themes that
+most attracted him; Virginian and other Voyages lay very close to his
+heart; and in certain sonnets to his lady lies his only imperishable
+work. Of sheer melody and power of song he had little, apart from his
+themes: he could not have sat down and written a few lark's or
+nightingale's notes about nothing as some of his contemporaries were
+able to do: he required the stimulus of a subject, and if he were really
+moved thereby he beat the music out. Only in one or two of the later
+Odes, and in the volumes of 1627 and 1630, does his music ever seem to
+flow from him naturally. Akin to this quality of broad and extensive
+workmanship, to this faculty of taking a subject and when writing, with
+all thought concentrated on it, rather than on the method of writing
+about it, is his strange lack of what are usually called 'quotations'.
+For this is not only due to the fact that he is little known; there are,
+besides, so few detached remarks or aphorisms that are separately
+quotable; so few examples of that _curiosa felicitas_ of diction: lines
+like these,
+
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings....
+
+are rare enough. Drayton, in fact, comes as near controverting the
+statement _Poeta nascitur, non fit_, as any one in English literature:
+by diligent toil and earnest desire he won a place for himself in the
+second rank of English poets: through love he once set foot in the
+circle of the mightiest. Sincere he was always, simple often, sensuous
+rarely. His great industry, his careful study, and his great receptivity
+are shown in the unusual spectacle of a man who has sung well in the
+language of his youth, suddenly learning, in his age, the tongue spoken
+by the younger generation, and reproducing it with individuality and
+sureness of touch. It is in rhetoric, splendid or rugged, in argument,
+in plain statement or description, in the outline sketch of a picture,
+that Drayton excels; magic of atmosphere and colouring are rarely
+present. Stolidity is, perhaps, his besetting sin; yet it is the sign of
+a slow, not a dull, intellect; an intellect, like his heart, which never
+let slip what it had once taken to itself.
+
+As a man Drayton would seem to have been an excellent type of the
+sturdy, clear-headed, but yet romantic and enthusiastic Englishman;
+gifted with much natural ability, sedulously increased by study; quietly
+humorous, self-restrained; and if temporarily soured by disappointment
+and the disjointed times, yet emerging at last into a greater serenity,
+a more unadulterated gaiety than had ever before characterized him. It
+is possible, but from his clear and sane balance of mind improbable,
+that many of his light later poems are due to deliberate self-blinding
+and self-deception, a walking in enchanted lands of the mind.
+
+Of Drayton's three known portraits the earliest shows him at the age of
+thirty-six, and is now in the National Portrait Gallery. A look of
+quiet, speculative melancholy seems to pervade it; there is, as yet, no
+moroseness, no evidence of severe conflict with the world, no shadow of
+stress or of doubt. The second and best-known portrait shows us Drayton
+at the age of fifty, and was engraved by Hole, as a frontispiece to the
+poems of 1619. Here a notable change has come over the face; the mouth
+is hardened, and depressed at the corners through disappointment and
+disillusionment; the eyes are full of a pathos increased by the puzzled
+and perturbed uplift of the brows. Yet a stubbornness and tenacity of
+purpose invests the features and reminds us that Drayton is of the old
+and sound Elizabethan stock, 'on evil days though fallen.' Let it be
+remembered, that he was in 1613, when the portrait was taken, in more or
+less prosperous circumstances; it was the sad degeneracy, the meanness
+and feebleness of the generation around him, that chiefly depressed and
+embittered him. The final portrait, now in the Dulwich Gallery,
+represents the poet as a man of sixty-five; and is quite in keeping with
+the sunnier and calmer tone of his later poetry. It is the face of one
+who has not emerged unscathed from the world's conflict, but has
+attained to a certain calm, a measure of tranquillity, a portion of
+content, who has learnt the lesson that there is a soul of goodness in
+things evil. The Hole portrait shows him with long hair, small 'goatee'
+beard, and aquiline nose drawn up at the nostrils: while the National
+portrait shows a type of nose and beard intermediate between the Hole
+and the Dulwich pictures: the general contour of the face, though the
+forehead is broad enough, is long and oval. Drayton seems to have been
+tall and thin, and to have been very susceptible of cold, and therefore
+to have hated Winter and the North.[25] He is said to have shared in the
+supper which caused Shakespeare's death; but his own verses[26] breathe
+the spirit of Milton's sonnet to Cyriack Skinner, rather than that of a
+devotee of Bacchus.
+
+He died in 1631, possibly on December 23, and was buried under the North
+wall of Westminster Abbey. Meres's[27] opinion of his character during
+his early life is as follows: 'As Aulus Persius Flaccus is reported
+among al writers to be of an honest life and vpright conuersation: so
+Michael Drayton, _quem totics honoris et amoris causa nomino_, among
+schollers, souldiours, Poets, and all sorts of people is helde for a man
+of uertuous disposition, honest conversation, and well gouerned cariage;
+which is almost miraculous among good wits in these declining and
+corrupt times, when there is nothing but rogery in villanous man, and
+when cheating and craftines is counted the cleanest wit, and soundest
+wisedome.'[28] Fuller also, in a similar strain, says, 'He was a pious
+poet, his conscience having the command of his fancy, very temperate in
+his life, slow of speech, and inoffensive in company.'
+
+In conclusion I have to thank Mr. H.M. Sanders, of Pembroke College,
+Oxford, for help and advice, and Professor Raleigh and Mr. R.W. Chapman
+for help and criticism while the volume was in the press. Above all, I
+am at every turn indebted to Professor Elton's invaluable _Michael
+Drayton_,[29] without which the work of any student of Drayton would be
+rendered, if not impossible, at least infinitely harder.
+
+    CYRIL BRETT.
+ALTON, STAFFORDSHIRE.
+
+[Footnote 1: Cf. Elegy viij, _To Henery Reynolds, Esquire_, p. 108.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Sir Aston Cokayne, in 1658, says that he went to Oxford,
+while Fleay asserts, without authority, that his university was probably
+Cambridge.]
+
+[Footnote 3: Cf. the motto of _Ideas Mirrour_, the allusions to
+_Ariosto_ in the _Nymphidia_, p. 129; and above all, the _Heroical
+Epistles_; Dedic. of _Ep._ of _D._ of _Suffolk to Q. Margaret_: 'Sweet
+is the _French_ Tongue, more sweet the _Italian_, but most sweet are
+they both, if spoken by your admired self.' Cf. _Surrey to Geraldine_,
+ll. 5 sqq., with Drayton's note.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Cf. Sonnet xij (ed. 1602), p. 42, ''Tis nine years now
+since first I lost my wit.' (This sonnet may, of course, occur in the
+supposed 1600 ed., which would fix an earlier date for Drayton's
+beginning of love.)]
+
+[Footnote 5: Elegy ix, p. 113.]
+
+[Footnote 6: Cf. Morley's ed. of _Barons' Wars_, &c. (1887), p. 6.]
+
+[Footnote 7: Cf. _E.H. Ep._ 'Mat. to K.J.,' 100 sqq., &c.]
+
+[Footnote 8: Professor Courthope and others. There was some excuse for
+blunders before the publication of Professor Elton's book; and they have
+been made easier by an unfortunate misprint. Professor Courthope twice
+misprints the first line of the Love-Parting Sonnet, as 'Since there's
+no help, come let us _rise_ and part', and, so printed, the line
+supports better the theory that the poem refers to a patroness and not
+to a mistress. Cf. Courthope, _Hist. Eng. Poetry_, iii. pp. 40 and 43.]
+
+[Footnote 9: Cf. _E. and Phoebe_, sub fin.; _Shep. Sir._ 145-8; _Ep. Hy.
+Reyn._ 79 sqq.]
+
+[Footnote 10: Those reprints which were really new _editions_ are in
+italics.]
+
+[Footnote 11: 1594 ed., Pref. Son. and nos. 12, 18, 28; 1599 ed., nos.
+3, 31, 46; 1602 ed., 12, 27, 31; and 1603 ed., 47.]
+
+[Footnote 12: Meres thought otherwise. Cf. _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'As
+Accius, M. Atilius, and Milithus were called _Tragediographi_, because
+they writ tragedies: so may wee truly terme Michael Drayton
+_Tragaediographus_ for his passionate penning the downfals of valiant
+Robert of Normandy, chast Matilda, and great Gaueston.' Cf. Barnefield,
+_Poems: in diuers humors_ (ed. Arber, p. 119), 'And Drayton, whose
+wel-written Tragedies, | And Sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. |
+Thy learned name is equall with the rest; | Whose stately Numbers are so
+well addrest.']
+
+[Footnote 13: Cf. Meres, _Palladis Tamia_ (1598), 'Michael Drayton doth
+imitate Ouid in his _England's Heroical Epistles_.']
+
+[Footnote 14: Cf. id., _ibid._, 'As Lucan hath mournefully depainted the
+ciuil wars of Pompey and Caesar: so hath Daniel the ciuill wars of Yorke
+and Lancaster, and Drayton the civill wars of Edward the second and the
+Barons.']
+
+[Footnote 15: Cf. Elegy viij. 126-8.]
+
+[Footnote 16: Cf. Morley's ed., _Barons' Wars_, &c., 1887, pp. 6-7.]
+
+[Footnote 17: Cf. Elron, pp. 83-93, and Whitaker, _M. Drayton as a
+Dramatist_ (Public. Mod. Lang. Assoc. of America, vol. xviij. 3).]
+
+[Footnote 18: Cf. _Nl._ ij. 127 sqq., p. 172.]
+
+[Footnote 19: Cf. Elegy ij. 20.]
+
+[Footnote 20: Cf. _Palladis Tamia_: 'Michael Drayton is now in penning,
+in English verse, a Poem called _Poly-olbion_, Geographicall &
+Hydrographicall of all the forests, woods, mountaines, fountaines,
+riuers, lakes, flouds, bathes, & springs that be in England.']
+
+[Footnote 21: Cf. _Amours_ (1594), xx and xxiv.]
+
+[Footnote 22: Cf. Sonnet vj (1619 edition); which is a dignified summary
+of much that he says more coarsely in the _Moone-Calfe_.]
+
+[Footnote 23: Cf. Morley's ed. _Barons' Wars, &c._, p. 8.]
+
+[Footnote 24: Charles FitzGeoffrey, _Drake_ (1596), 'golden-mouthed
+Drayton musical.' Guilpin, _Skialetheia_ (1598), 'Drayton's condemned of
+some for imitation, But others say, 'tis the best poet's fashion ...
+Drayton's justly surnam'd golden-mouth'd.' Meres, _Palladis Tamia_
+(1598),' In Charles Fitz-Jefferies _Drake_ Drayton is termed
+"golden-mouth'd" for the purity and pretiousnesse of his stile and
+phrase.']
+
+[Footnote 25: Cf. _E. H. E._, pp. 90, 99 (ed. 1737); Elegy i; and _Ode
+written in the Peak_.]
+
+[Footnote 26: Elegy viij, ad init.]
+
+[Footnote 27: _Palladis Tamia_ (1598).]
+
+[Footnote 28: Cf. _Returne from Parnassus_, i. 2 (1600) ed. Arb. p. 11.]
+
+[Footnote 29: _Michael Drayton. A Critical Study_. Oliver Elton, M.A.
+London: A. Constable & Co., 1905.]
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS
+
+[from the Edition of 1594]
+
+To the deere Chyld of the Muses, and
+ _his euer kind_ Mecaenas, _Ma._ Anthony
+          Cooke, Esquire
+
+
+    Vovchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rymes,
+    Which long (dear friend) haue slept in sable night,
+    And, come abroad now in these glorious tymes,
+    Can hardly brook the purenes of the light.
+    But still you see their desteny is such,
+    That in the world theyr fortune they must try,
+    Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch,
+    Wearing your name, theyr gracious liuery.
+    Yet these mine owne: I wrong not other men,
+    Nor trafique further then thys happy Clyme,
+    Nor filch from _Portes_, nor from _Petrarchs_ pen,
+    A fault too common in this latter time.
+      Diuine Syr Phillip, I auouch thy writ,
+      I am no Pickpurse of anothers wit.
+                          Yours deuoted,
+                              M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Amour 1
+
+    Reade heere (sweet Mayd) the story of my wo,
+    The drery abstracts of my endles cares,
+    With my liues sorow enterlyned so;
+    Smok'd with my sighes, and blotted with my teares:
+    The sad memorials of my miseries,
+    Pend in the griefe of myne afflicted ghost;
+    My liues complaint in doleful Elegies,
+    With so pure loue as tyme could neuer boast.
+    Receaue the incense which I offer heere,
+    By my strong fayth ascending to thy fame,
+    My zeale, my hope, my vowes, my praise, my prayer,
+    My soules oblation to thy sacred name:
+      Which name my Muse to highest heauen shal raise
+      By chast desire, true loue, and vertues praise.
+
+
+Amour 2
+
+    My fayre, if thou wilt register my loue,
+    More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise;
+    Preserue my teares, and thou thy selfe shall proue
+    A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes.
+    Note but my sighes, and thine eyes shal behold
+    The Sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke;
+    And if by thee, my prayers may be enrold,
+    They heauen and earth to pitty shall prouoke.
+    Looke thou into my breast, and thou shall see
+    Chaste holy vowes for my soules sacrifice:
+    That soule (sweet Maide) which so hath honoured thee,
+    Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes;
+      Those eyes to my heart shining euer bright,
+      When darknes hath obscur'd each other light.
+
+
+Amour 3
+
+    My thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue,
+    And, for their vertues I desiered to know,
+    Vpon the nest I set them forth, to proue
+    If they were of the Eagles kinde or no:
+    But they no sooner saw my Sunne appeare,
+    But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood;
+    Which proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre,
+    And that they came of this rare kinglie brood.
+    But now their plumes, full sumd with sweet desire,
+    To shew their kinde began to clime the skies:
+    Doe what I could my Eaglets would aspire,
+    Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes.
+      And thus (my faire) my thoughts away be flowne,
+      And from my breast into thine eyes be gone.
+
+
+Amour 4
+
+    My faire, had I not erst adorned my Lute
+    With those sweet strings stolne from thy golden hayre,
+    Vnto the world had all my ioyes been mute,
+    Nor had I learn'd to descant on my faire.
+    Had not mine eye seene thy Celestiall eye,
+    Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name,
+    My soule had ne'er felt thy Diuinitie,
+    Nor my Muse been the trumpet of thy fame.
+    But thy diuine perfections, by their skill,
+    This miracle on my poore Muse haue tried,
+    And, by inspiring, glorifide my quill,
+    And in my verse thy selfe art deified:
+      Thus from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued,
+      That by thy fame all fame shall be suruiued.
+
+
+Amour 5
+
+    Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected,
+    The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite;
+    No Virgin once attending on that light,
+    Nor yet those heauenly secrets once respected;
+    Till thou alone, to pay the heauens their dutie
+    Within the Temple of thy sacred name,
+    With thine eyes kindling that Celestiall flame,
+    By those reflecting Sun-beames of thy beautie.
+    Here Chastity that Vestall most diuine,
+    Attends that Lampe with eye which neuer sleepeth;
+    The volumes of Religions lawes shee keepeth,
+    Making thy breast that sacred reliques shryne,
+      Where blessed Angels, singing day and night,
+      Praise him which made that fire, which lends that light.
+
+
+Amour 6
+
+    In one whole world is but one Phoenix found,
+    A Phoenix thou, this Phoenix then alone:
+    By thy rare plume thy kind is easly knowne,
+    With heauenly colours dide, with natures wonder cround.
+    Heape thine own vertues, seasoned by their sunne,
+    On heauenly top of thy diuine desire;
+    Then with thy beautie set the same on fire,
+    So by thy death thy life shall be begunne.
+    Thy selfe, thus burned in this sacred flame,
+    With thine owne sweetnes al the heauens perfuming,
+    And stil increasing as thou art consuming,
+    Shalt spring againe from th' ashes of thy fame;
+      And mounting vp shall to the heauens ascend:
+      So maist thou liue, past world, past fame, past end.
+
+
+Amour 7
+
+    Stay, stay, sweet Time; behold, or ere thou passe
+    From world to world, thou long hast sought to see,
+    That wonder now wherein all wonders be,
+    Where heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse.
+    Nay, looke thee, Time, in this Celesteall glasse,
+    And thy youth past in this faire mirror see:
+    Behold worlds Beautie in her infancie,
+    What shee was then, and thou, or ere shee was.
+    Now passe on, Time: to after-worlds tell this,
+    Tell truelie, Time, what in thy time hath beene,
+    That they may tel more worlds what Time hath seene,
+    And heauen may ioy to think on past worlds blisse.
+      Heere make a Period, Time, and saie for mee,
+      She was the like that neuer was, nor neuer more shalbe.
+
+
+Amour 8
+
+    Vnto the World, to Learning, and to Heauen,
+    Three nines there are, to euerie one a nine;
+    One number of the earth, the other both diuine,
+    One wonder woman now makes three od numbers euen.
+    Nine orders, first, of Angels be in heauen;
+    Nine Muses doe with learning still frequent:
+    These with the Gods are euer resident.
+    Nine worthy men vnto the world were giuen.
+    My Worthie one to these nine Worthies addeth,
+    And my faire Muse one Muse vnto the nine;
+    And my good Angell, in my soule diuine,
+    With one more order these nine orders gladdeth.
+      My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angell, then,
+      Makes euery one of these three nines a ten.
+
+
+Amour 9
+
+    Beauty sometime, in all her glory crowned,
+    Passing by that cleere fountain of thine eye,
+    Her sun-shine face there chaunsing to espy,
+    Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.
+    And thus, whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed,
+    Who then, yet liuing, deemd she had been dying,
+    And yet in death some hope of life espying,
+    At her owne rare perfections so amazed;
+    Twixt ioy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning,
+    The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining,
+    And shee, in her owne destiny diuining,
+    Threw in herselfe, to saue herselfe by drowning;
+      The Well of Nectar, pau'd with pearle and gold,
+      Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.
+
+
+Amour 10
+
+    Oft taking pen in hand, with words to cast my woes,
+    Beginning to account the sum of all my cares,
+    I well perceiue my griefe innumerable growes,
+    And still in reckonings rise more millions of dispayres.
+    And thus, deuiding of my fatall howres,
+    The payments of my loue I read, and reading crosse,
+    And in substracting set my sweets vnto my sowres;
+    Th' average of my ioyes directs me to my losse.
+    And thus mine eyes, a debtor to thine eye,
+    Who by extortion gaineth all theyr lookes,
+    My hart hath payd such grieuous vsury,
+    That all her wealth lyes in thy Beauties bookes;
+      And all is thine which hath been due to mee,
+      And I a Banckrupt, quite vndone by thee.
+
+
+Amour 11
+
+    Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue,
+    To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell;
+    For I was apt, a scholler like to proue,
+    Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.
+    Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun
+    At my first Lesson in thy sacred name:
+    My consonants the next when I had done,
+    Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.
+    My liquids then were liquid christall teares,
+    My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe;
+    My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires,
+    Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe:
+      My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so,
+      That I can read a story of my woe.
+
+
+Amour 12
+
+    Some Atheist or vile Infidell in loue,
+    When I doe speake of thy diuinitie,
+    May blaspheme thus, and say I flatter thee,
+    And onely write my skill in verse to proue.
+    See myracles, ye vnbeleeuing! see
+    A dumbe-born Muse made to expresse the mind,
+    A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind,
+    One by thy name, the other touching thee.
+    Blind were mine eyes, till they were seene of thine,
+    And mine eares deafe by thy fame healed be;
+    My vices cur'd by vertues sprung from thee,
+    My hopes reuiu'd, which long in graue had lyne:
+      All vncleane thoughts, foule spirits, cast out in mee
+      By thy great power, and by strong fayth in thee.
+
+
+Amour 13
+
+    Cleere _Ankor_, on whose siluer-sanded shore
+    My soule-shrinde Saint, my faire _Idea_, lyes;
+    O blessed Brooke! whose milk-white Swans adore
+    The christall streame refined by her eyes:
+    Where sweet Myrh-breathing _Zephyre_ in the spring
+    Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers;
+    Where Nightingales in _Arden_ sit and sing
+    Amongst those dainty dew-empearled flowers.
+    Say thus, fayre Brooke, when thou shall see thy Queene:
+    Loe! heere thy Shepheard spent his wandring yeeres,
+    And in these shades (deer Nimphe) he oft hath been,
+    And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares.
+      Fayre _Arden_, thou my _Tempe_ art alone,
+      And thou, sweet _Ankor_, art my _Helicon_.
+
+
+Amour 14
+
+    Looking into the glasse of my youths miseries,
+    I see the ugly face of my deformed cares,
+    With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires,
+    That for my mis-spent youth the tears fel from my eyes.
+    Then, in these teares, the mirror of these eyes,
+    Thy fayrest youth and Beautie doe I see
+    Imprinted in my teares by looking still on thee:
+    Thus midst a thousand woes ten thousand joyes arise.
+    Yet in those joyes, the shadowes of my good,
+    In this fayre limned ground as white as snow,
+    Paynted the blackest Image of my woe,
+    With murthering hands imbru'd in mine own blood:
+      And in this Image his darke clowdy eyes,
+      My life, my youth, my loue, I heere Anotamize.
+
+
+Amour 15
+
+    Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror,
+    Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee;
+    And but appoint me for her Tormentor,
+    Then for a Monarch will I honour thee.
+    My hart shall be the prison for my fayre;
+    Ile fetter her in chaines of purest loue,
+    My sighs shall stop the passage of the ayre:
+    This punishment the pittilesse may moue.
+    With teares out of the Channels of mine eyes
+    She'st quench her thirst as duly as they fall:
+    Kinde words vnkindest meate I can deuise,
+    My sweet, my faire, my good, my best of all.
+    Ile binde her then with my torne-tressed haire,
+    And racke her with a thousand holy wishes;
+    Then, on a place prepared for her there,
+    Ile execute her with a thousand kisses.
+      Thus will I crucifie, my cruell shee;
+      Thus Ile plague her which hath so plagued mee.
+
+
+Amour 16
+
+    Vertues _Idea_ in virginitie,
+    By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought:
+    The time is come deliuered she must be,
+    Where first my loue into the world was brought.
+    Vnhappy borne, of all vnhappy day!
+    So luckles was my Babes nativity,
+    _Saturne_ chiefe Lord of the Ascendant lay,
+    The wandring Moone in earths triplicitie.
+    Now, or by chaunce or heauens hie prouidence,
+    His Mother died, and by her Legacie
+    (Fearing the stars presaging influence)
+    Bequeath'd his wardship to my soueraignes eye;
+    Where hunger-staruen, wanting lookes to liue,
+    Still empty gorg'd, with cares consumption pynde,
+    Salt luke-warm teares shee for his drink did giue,
+    And euer-more with sighes he supt and dynde:
+      And thus (poore Orphan) lying in distresse
+      Cryes in his pangs, God helpe the motherlesse.
+
+
+Amour 17
+
+    If euer wonder could report a wonder,
+    Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought,
+    Or euer ioy expresse what perfect ioy hath taught,
+    Then wonder, tongue, then ioy, might wel report a wonder.
+    Could all conceite conclude, which past conceit admireth,
+    Or could mine eye but ayme her obiects past perfection,
+    My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction,
+    And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.
+    Were not Inuention stauld, treading Inuentions maze,
+    Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying;
+    Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze,
+    Whilst Loue (my Phoenix bird) in her owne flame is dying,
+      Inuention and my Muse, perfection and her loue,
+      Should teach the world to know the wonder that I proue.
+
+
+Amour 18
+
+    Some, when in ryme they of their Loues doe tell,
+    With flames and lightning their exordiums paynt:
+    Some inuocate the Gods, some spirits of Hell,
+    And heauen, and earth doe with their woes acquaint.
+    _Elizia_ is too hie a seate for mee:
+    I wyll not come in _Stixe_ or _Phlegiton_;
+    The Muses nice, the Furies cruell be,
+    I lyke not _Limbo_, nor blacke _Acheron_,
+    Spightful _Erinnis_ frights mee with her lookes,
+    My manhood dares not with foule _Ate_ mell:
+    I quake to looke on _Hecats_ charming bookes,
+    I styll feare bugbeares in _Apollos_ cell.
+      I passe not for _Minerua_ nor _Astraea_.
+      But euer call vpon diuine _Idea_.
+
+
+Amour 19
+
+    If those ten Regions, registred by Fame,
+    By theyr ten Sibils haue the world controld,
+    Who prophecied of Christ or ere he came,
+    And of his blessed birth before fore-told;
+    That man-god now, of whom they did diuine,
+    This earth of those sweet Prophets hath bereft,
+    And since the world to iudgement doth declyne,
+    Instead of ten, one Sibil to vs left.
+    Thys pure _Idea_, vertues right Idea,
+    Shee of whom _Merlin_ long tyme did fore-tell,
+    Excelling her of _Delphos_ or _Cumaea_,
+    Whose lyfe doth saue a thousand soules from hell:
+      That life (I meane) which doth Religion teach,
+      And by example true repentance preach.
+
+
+Amour 20
+
+    Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile,
+    I find old Poets hylls and floods admire:
+    One, he doth wonder monster-breeding _Nyle_,
+    Another meruailes Sulphure _Aetnas_ fire.
+    Now broad-brymd _Indus_, then of _Pindus_ height,
+    _Pelion_ and _Ossa_, frosty _Caucase_ old,
+    The Delian _Cynthus_, then _Olympus_ weight,
+    Slow _Arrer_, franticke _Gallus_, _Cydnus_ cold.
+    Some _Ganges_, _Ister_, and of _Tagus_ tell,
+    Some whir-poole _Po_, and slyding _Hypasis_;
+    Some old _Pernassus_ where the Muses dwell,
+    Some _Helycon_, and some faire _Simois_:
+      A, fooles! thinke I, had you _Idea_ seene,
+      Poore Brookes and Banks had no such wonders beene.
+
+
+Amour 21
+
+    Letters and lynes, we see, are soone defaced,
+    Mettles doe waste and fret with cankers rust;
+    The Diamond shall once consume to dust,
+    And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.
+    Paper and yncke can paynt but naked words,
+    To write with blood of force offends the sight,
+    And if with teares, I find them all too light;
+    And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.
+    O, sweetest shadow! how thou seru'st my turne,
+    Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne,
+    Nor whilst the world is neuer shall be done,
+    Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne:
+      That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede,
+      May in his shadow my Loues story reade.
+
+
+Amour 22
+
+    My hart, imprisoned in a hopeless Ile,
+    Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes,
+    The shores beset with thousand secret spyes,
+    Must passe by ayre, or else dye in exile.
+    He framd him wings with feathers of his thought,
+    Which by theyr nature learn'd to mount the skye;
+    And with the same he practised to flye,
+    Till he himself thys Eagles art had taught.
+    Thus soring still, not looking once below,
+    So neere thyne eyes celesteall sunne aspyred,
+    That with the rayes his wafting pyneons fired:
+    Thus was the wanton cause of his owne woe.
+      Downe fell he, in thy Beauties Ocean drenched,
+      Yet there he burnes in fire thats neuer quenched.
+
+
+Amour 23
+
+    Wonder of Heauen, glasse of diuinitie,
+    Rare beautie, Natures joy, perfections Mother,
+    The worke of that vnited Trinitie,
+    Wherein each fayrest part excelleth other!
+    Loues Mithridate, the purest of perfection,
+    Celestiall Image, Load-stone of desire,
+    The soules delight, the sences true direction,
+    Sunne of the world, thou hart reuyuing fire!
+    Why should'st thou place thy Trophies in those eyes,
+    Which scorne the honor that is done to thee,
+    Or make my pen her name immortalize,
+    Who in her pride sdaynes once to look on me?
+      It is thy heauen within her face to dwell,
+      And in thy heauen, there onely, is my hell.
+
+
+Amour 24
+
+    Our floods-Queene, _Thames_, for shyps and Swans is crowned,
+    And stately _Seuerne_ for her shores is praised,
+    The christall _Trent_ for Foords and fishe renowned,
+    And _Auons_ fame to _Albyons_ Cliues is raysed.
+    _Carlegion Chester_ vaunts her holy _Dee_,
+    _Yorke_ many wonders of her _Ouse_ can tell,
+    The _Peake_ her _Doue_, whose bancks so fertill bee,
+    And _Kent_ will say her _Medway_ doth excell.
+    Cotswoold commends her _Isis_ and her _Tame_,
+    Our Northern borders boast of _Tweeds_ faire flood;
+    Our Westerne parts extoll theyr Wilys fame,
+    And old _Legea_ brags of _Danish_ blood:
+      _Ardens_ sweet _Ankor_, let thy glory be
+      That fayre _Idea_ shee doth liue by thee.
+
+
+Amour 25
+
+    The glorious sunne went blushing to his bed,
+    When my soules sunne, from her fayre Cabynet,
+    Her golden beames had now discouered,
+    Lightning the world, eclipsed by his set.
+    Some muz'd to see the earth enuy the ayre,
+    Which from her lyps exhald refined sweet,
+    A world to see, yet how he ioyd to heare
+    The dainty grasse make musicke with her feete.
+    But my most meruaile was when from the skyes,
+    So Comet-like, each starre aduanc'd her lyght,
+    As though the heauen had now awak'd her eyes,
+    And summond Angels to this blessed sight.
+      No clowde was seene, but christalline the ayre,
+      Laughing for ioy upon my louely fayre.
+
+
+Amour 26
+
+    Cupid, dumbe-Idoll, peeuish Saint of loue,
+    No more shalt thou nor Saint nor Idoll be;
+    No God art thou, a Goddesse shee doth proue,
+    Of all thine honour shee hath robbed thee.
+    Thy Bowe, halfe broke, is peec'd with old desire;
+    Her Bowe is beauty with ten thousand strings
+    Of purest gold, tempred with vertues fire,
+    The least able to kyll an hoste of Kings.
+    Thy shafts be spent, and shee (to warre appointed)
+    Hydes in those christall quiuers of her eyes
+    More Arrowes, with hart-piercing mettel poynted,
+    Then there be starres at midnight in the skyes.
+      With these she steales mens harts for her reliefe,
+      Yet happy he thats robd of such a thiefe!
+
+
+Amour 27
+
+    My Loue makes hote the fire whose heat is spent,
+    The water moisture from my teares deriueth,
+    And my strong sighes the ayres weake force reuiueth:
+    Thus loue, tears, sighes, maintaine each one his element.
+    The fire, vnto my loue, compare a painted fire,
+    The water, to my teares as drops to Oceans be,
+    The ayre, vnto my sighes as Eagle to the flie,
+    The passions of dispaire but ioyes to my desire.
+    Onely my loue is in the fire ingraued,
+    Onely my teares by Oceans may be gessed,
+    Onely my sighes are by the ayre expressed;
+    Yet fire, water, ayre, of nature not depriued.
+      Whilst fire, water, ayre, twixt heauen and earth shal be,
+      My loue, my teares, my sighes, extinguisht cannot be.
+
+
+Amour 28
+
+    Some wits there be which lyke my method well,
+    And say my verse runnes in a lofty vayne;
+    Some say, I haue a passing pleasing straine,
+    Some say that in my humour I excell.
+    Some who reach not the height of my conceite,
+    They say, (as Poets doe) I vse to fayne,
+    And in bare words paynt out my passions payne:
+    Thus sundry men their sundry minds repeate.
+    I passe not I how men affected be,
+    Nor who commend, or discommend my verse;
+    It pleaseth me if I my plaints rehearse,
+    And in my lynes if shee my loue may see.
+      I proue my verse autentique still in thys,
+      Who writes my Mistres praise can neuer write amisse.
+
+
+Amour 29
+
+    O eyes! behold your happy _Hesperus_,
+    That luckie Load-starre of eternall light,
+    Left as that sunne alone to comfort vs,
+    When our worlds sunne is vanisht out of sight.
+    O starre of starres! fayre Planet mildly moouing,
+    O Lampe of vertue! sun-bright, euer shyning,
+    O mine eyes Comet! so admyr'd by louing,
+    O cleerest day-starre! neuer more declyning.
+    O our worlds wonder! crowne of heauen aboue,
+    Thrice happy be those eyes which may behold thee!
+    Lou'd more then life, yet onely art his loue
+    Whose glorious hand immortal hath enrold thee!
+      O blessed fayre! now vaile those heauenly eyes,
+      That I may blesse mee at thy sweet arise.
+
+
+Amour 30
+
+    Three sorts of serpents doe resemble thee;
+    That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
+    Th' inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
+    The weeping Crocodile; these vile pernicious three.
+    The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,
+    Who for my life in secret wait do'st lye,
+    And to my heart send'st poyson from thine eye:
+    Thus do I feele the paine, the cause yet cannot see.
+    Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,
+    Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
+    Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
+    And, like a Tyrant, mak'st my griefe thy game.
+      The Crocodile, who, when thou hast me slaine,
+      Lament'st my death with teares of thy disdaine.
+
+
+Amour 31
+
+    Sitting alone, loue bids me goe and write;
+    Reason plucks backe, commaunding me to stay,
+    Boasting that shee doth still direct the way,
+    Els senceles loue could neuer once indite.
+    Loue, growing angry, vexed at the spleene,
+    And scorning Reasons maymed Argument,
+    Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent
+    Where shee with Loue conuersing hath not beene.
+    Reason, reproched with this coy disdaine,
+    Dispighteth Loue, and laugheth at her folly,
+    And Loue, contemning Reasons reason wholy,
+    Thought her in weight too light by many a graine.
+      Reason, put back, doth out of sight remoue,
+      And Loue alone finds reason in my loue.
+
+
+Amour 32
+
+    Those teares, which quench my hope, still kindle my desire,
+    Those sighes, which coole my hart, are coles vnto my loue,
+    Disdayne, Ice to my life, is to my soule a fire:
+    With teares, sighes, and disdaine, this contrary I proue.
+    Quenchles desire makes hope burne, dryes my teares,
+    Loue heats my hart, my hart-heat my sighes warmeth;
+    With my soules fire my life disdaine out-weares,
+    Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, hart, and life charmeth.
+    My hope becomes a friend to my desire,
+    My hart imbraceth Loue, Loue doth imbrace my hart;
+    My life a Phoenix is in my soules fire,
+    From thence (they vow) they neuer will depart.
+      Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, my hart, my life,
+      With teares, sighes, and disdaine, shall haue immortal strife.
+
+
+Amour 33
+
+    Whilst thus mine eyes doe surfet with delight,
+    My wofull hart, imprisond in my breast,
+    Wishing to be trans-formd into my sight,
+    To looke on her by whom mine eyes are blest;
+    But whilst mine eyes thus greedily doe gaze,
+    Behold! their obiects ouer-soone depart,
+    And treading in this neuer-ending maze,
+    Wish now to be trans-formd into my hart:
+    My hart, surcharg'd with thoughts, sighes in abundance raise,
+    My eyes, made dim with lookes, poure down a flood of tears;
+    And whilst my hart and eye enuy each others praise,
+    My dying lookes and thoughts are peiz'd in equall feares:
+      And thus, whilst sighes and teares together doe contende,
+      Each one of these doth ayde vnto the other lende.
+
+
+Amour 34
+
+    My fayre, looke from those turrets of thine eyes,
+    Into the Ocean of a troubled minde,
+    Where my poor soule, the Barke of sorrow, lyes,
+    Left to the mercy of the waues and winde.
+    See where she flotes, laden with purest loue,
+    Which those fayre Ilands of thy lookes affoord,
+    Desiring yet a thousand deaths to proue,
+    Then so to cast her Ballase ouerboard.
+    See how her sayles be rent, her tacklings worne,
+    Her Cable broke, her surest Anchor lost:
+    Her Marryners doe leaue her all forlorne,
+    Yet how shee bends towards that blessed Coast!
+      Loe! where she drownes in stormes of thy displeasure,
+      Whose worthy prize should haue enricht thy treasure.
+
+
+Amour 35
+
+    See, chaste _Diana_, where my harmles hart,
+    Rouz'd from my breast, his sure and safest layre,
+    Nor chaste by hound, nor forc'd by Hunters arte,
+    Yet see how right he comes vnto my fayre.
+    See how my Deere comes to thy Beauties stand,
+    And there stands gazing on those darting eyes,
+    Whilst from theyr rayes, by _Cupids_ skilfull hand,
+    Into his hart the piercing Arrow flyes.
+    See how he lookes vpon his bleeding wound,
+    Whilst thus he panteth for his latest breath,
+    And, looking on thee, falls vpon the ground,
+    Smyling, as though he gloried in his death.
+      And wallowing in his blood, some lyfe yet laft;
+      His stone-cold lips doth kisse the blessed shaft.
+
+
+Amour 36
+
+    Sweete, sleepe so arm'd with Beauties arrowes darting,
+    Sleepe in thy Beauty, Beauty in sleepe appeareth;
+    Sleepe lightning Beauty, Beauty sleepes, darknes cleereth,
+    Sleepes wonder Beauty, wonders to worlds imparting.
+    Sleep watching Beauty, Beauty waking, sleepe guarding
+    Beauty in sleepe, sleepe in Beauty charmed,
+    Sleepes aged coldnes with Beauties fire warmed,
+    Sleepe with delight, Beauty with loue rewarding.
+    Sleepe and Beauty, with equall forces stryuing,
+    Beauty her strength vnto sleepes weaknes lending,
+    Sleepe with Beauty, Beauty with sleepe contending,
+    Yet others force the others force reuiuing,
+      And others foe the others foe imbrace.
+      Myne eyes beheld thys conflict in thy face.
+
+
+Amour 37
+
+    I euer loue where neuer hope appeares,
+    Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care,
+    And my liues hope would die but for dyspaire;
+    My neuer certaine ioy breeds euer-certaine feares.
+    Vncertaine dread gyues wings vnto my hope,
+    Yet my hopes wings are loden so with feare,
+    As they cannot ascend to my hopes spheare,
+    Yet feare gyues them more then a heauenly scope.
+    Yet this large roome is bounded with dyspaire,
+    So my loue is still fettered with vaine hope,
+    And lyberty depriues him of hys scope,
+    And thus am I imprisond in the ayre:
+      Then, sweet Dispaire, awhile hold vp thy head,
+      Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.
+
+
+Amour 38
+
+    If chaste and pure deuotion of my youth,
+    Or glorie of my Aprill-springing yeeres,
+    Vnfained loue in naked simple truth,
+    A thousand vowes, a thousand sighes and teares;
+    Or if a world of faithful seruice done,
+    Words, thoughts, and deeds deuoted to her honor,
+    Or eyes that haue beheld her as theyr sunne,
+    With admiration euer looking on her:
+    A lyfe that neuer ioyd but in her loue,
+    A soule that euer hath ador'd her name,
+    A fayth that time nor fortune could not moue,
+    A Muse that vnto heauen hath raised her fame.
+      Though these, nor these deserue to be imbraced,
+      Yet, faire vnkinde, too good to be disgraced.
+
+
+Amour 39
+
+    Die, die, my soule, and neuer taste of ioy,
+    If sighes, nor teares, nor vowes, nor prayers can moue;
+    If fayth and zeale be but esteemd a toy,
+    And kindnes be vnkindnes in my loue.
+    Then, with vnkindnes, Loue, reuenge thy wrong:
+    O sweet'st reuenge that ere the heauens gaue!
+    And with the swan record thy dying song,
+    And praise her still to thy vntimely graue.
+    So in loues death shall loues perfection proue
+    That loue diuine which I haue borne to you,
+    By doome concealed to the heauens aboue,
+    That yet the world vnworthy neuer knew;
+      Whose pure _Idea_ neuer tongue exprest:
+      I feele, you know, the heauens can tell the rest.
+
+
+Amour 40
+
+    O thou vnkindest fayre! most fayrest shee,
+    In thine eyes tryumph murthering my poore hart,
+    Now doe I sweare by heauens, before we part,
+    My halfe-slaine hart shall take reuenge on thee.
+    Thy mother dyd her lyfe to death resigne,
+    And thou an Angell art, and from aboue;
+    Thy father was a man, that will I proue,
+    Yet thou a Goddesse art, and so diuine.
+    And thus, if thou be not of humaine kinde,
+    A Bastard on both sides needes must thou be;
+    Our Lawes allow no land to basterdy:
+    By natures Lawes we thee a bastard finde.
+      Then hence to heauen, vnkind, for thy childs part:
+      Goe bastard goe, for sure of thence thou art.
+
+
+Amour 41
+
+    Rare of-spring of my thoughts, my dearest Loue,
+    Begot by fancy on sweet hope exhortiue,
+    In whom all purenes with perfection stroue,
+    Hurt in the Embryon makes my ioyes abhortiue.
+    And you, my sighes, Symtomas of my woe,
+    The dolefull Anthems of my endelesse care,
+    Lyke idle Ecchoes euer answering; so,
+    The mournfull accents of my loues dispayre.
+    And thou, Conceite, the shadow of my blisse,
+    Declyning with the setting of my sunne,
+    Springing with that, and fading straight with this,
+    Now hast thou end, and now thou wast begun:
+      Now was thy pryme, and loe! is now thy waine;
+      Now wast thou borne, now in thy cradle slayne.
+
+
+Amour 42
+
+    Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre
+    Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies,
+    Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare,
+    Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes.
+    Wounded with Arrowes from thy lightning eyes,
+    My tongue in payne my harts counsels bewraying,
+    My rebell thought for me in Ambushe lyes,
+    To my lyues foe her Chieftaine still betraying.
+    Record my loue in Ocean waues (vnkind)
+    Cast my desarts into the open ayre,
+    Commit my words vnto the fleeting wind,
+    Cancell my name, and blot it with dispayre;
+      So shall I bee as I had neuer beene,
+      Nor my disgraces to the world be seene.
+
+
+Amour 43
+
+    Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue,
+    When my hart is the very Den of horror,
+    And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue,
+    With all his torments and infernall terror?
+    Myne eyes want teares thus to bewayle my woe,
+    My brayne is dry with weeping all too long;
+    My sighes be spent with griefe and sighing so,
+    And I want words for to expresse my wrong.
+    But still, distracted in loues lunacy,
+    And Bedlam like thus rauing in my griefe,
+    Now rayle vpon her hayre, now on her eye,
+    Now call her Goddesse, then I call her thiefe;
+      Now I deny her, then I doe confesse her,
+      Now I doe curse her, then againe I blesse her.
+
+
+Amour 44
+
+    My hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate,
+    My words the hammers fashioning my desire,
+    My breast the forge, including all the heate,
+    Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire:
+    My sighes the bellowes which the flame increaseth,
+    Filling mine eares with noise and nightly groning,
+    Toyling with paine my labour neuer ceaseth,
+    In greeuous passions my woes styll bemoning.
+    Myne eyes with teares against the fire stryuing,
+    With scorching gleed my hart to cynders turneth;
+    But with those drops the coles againe reuyuing,
+    Still more and more vnto my torment burneth.
+      With _Sisiphus_ thus doe I role the stone,
+      And turne the wheele with damned _Ixion_.
+
+
+Amour 45
+
+    Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe,
+    The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow,
+    Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so,
+    Still to prolong my long tyme lookt-for morrow?
+    Thou Sable shadow, Image of dispayre,
+    Portraite of hell, the ayres black mourning weed,
+    Recorder of reuenge, remembrancer of care,
+    The shadow and the vaile of euery sinfull deed.
+    Death like to thee, so lyue thou still in death,
+    The graue of ioy, prison of dayes delight.
+    Let heauens withdraw their sweet Ambrozian breath,
+    Nor Moone nor stars lend thee their shining light;
+      For thou alone renew'st that olde desire,
+      Which still torments me in dayes burning fire.
+
+
+Amour 46
+
+    Sweete secrecie, what tongue can tell thy worth?
+    What mortall pen sufficiently can prayse thee?
+    What curious Pensill serues to lim thee forth?
+    What Muse hath power aboue thy height to raise thee?
+    Strong locke of kindnesse, Closet of loues store,
+    Harts Methridate, the soules preseruatiue;
+    O vertue! which all vertues doe adore,
+    Cheefe good, from whom all good things wee deriue.
+    O rare effect! true bond of friendships measure,
+    Conceite of Angels, which all wisdom teachest;
+    O, richest Casket of all heauenly treasure,
+    In secret silence which such wonders preachest.
+      O purest mirror! wherein men may see
+      The liuely Image of Diuinitie.
+
+
+Amour 47
+
+    The golden Sunne vpon his fiery wheeles
+    The horned Ram doth in his course awake,
+    And of iust length our night and day doth make,
+    Flinging the Fishes backward with his heeles:
+    Then to the Tropicke takes his full Careere,
+    Trotting his sun-steeds till the Palfrays sweat,
+    Bayting the Lyon in his furious heat,
+    Till Virgins smyles doe sound his sweet reteere.
+    But my faire Planet, who directs me still,
+    Vnkindly such distemperature doth bring,
+    Makes Summer Winter, Autumne in the Spring,
+    Crossing sweet nature by vnruly will.
+      Such is the sunne who guides my youthfull season,
+      Whose thwarting course depriues the world of reason.
+
+
+Amour 48
+
+    Who list to praise the dayes delicious lyght,
+    Let him compare it to her heauenly eye,
+    The sun-beames to the lustre of her sight;
+    So may the learned like the similie.
+    The mornings Crimson to her lyps alike,
+    The sweet of _Eden_ to her breathes perfume,
+    The fayre _Elizia_ to her fayrer cheeke,
+    Vnto her veynes the onely Phoenix plume.
+    The Angels tresses to her tressed hayre,
+    The _Galixia_ to her more then white.
+    Praysing the fayrest, compare it to my faire,
+    Still naming her in naming all delight.
+      So may he grace all these in her alone,
+      Superlatiue in all comparison.
+
+
+Amour 49
+
+    Define my loue, and tell the ioyes of heauen,
+    Expresse my woes, and shew the paynes of hell;
+    Declare what fate vnlucky starres haue giuen,
+    And aske a world vpon my life to dwell.
+    Make knowne that fayth vnkindnes could not moue;
+    Compare my worth with others base desert:
+    Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue,
+    So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart.
+    Behold the Clowdes which haue eclips'd my sunne,
+    And view the crosses which my course doth let;
+    Tell mee, if euer since the world begunne,
+    So faire a Morning had so foule a set?
+      And, by all meanes, let black vnkindnes proue
+      The patience of so rare, diuine a loue.
+
+
+Amour 50
+
+    When I first ended, then I first began;
+    The more I trauell, further from my rest;
+    Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;
+    Pyned with hunger, rysing from a feast.
+    Mee thinks I flee, yet want I legs to goe,
+    Wise in conceite, in acte a very sot;
+    Rauisht with ioy amidst a hell of woe,
+    What most I seeme, that surest I am not.
+    I build my hopes a world aboue the skye,
+    Yet with a Mole I creepe into the earth:
+    In plenty am I staru'd with penury,
+    And yet I serfet in the greatest dearth.
+      I haue, I want, dispayre, and yet desire,
+      Burn'd in a Sea of Ice, and drown'd amidst a fire.
+
+
+Amour 51
+
+    Goe you, my lynes, Embassadours of loue,
+    With my harts tribute to her conquering eyes,
+    From whence, if you one tear of pitty moue
+    For all my woes, that onely shall suffise.
+    When you _Minerua_ in the sunne behold,
+    At her perfections stand you then and gaze,
+    Where in the compasse of a Marygold,
+    _Meridianis_ sits within a maze.
+    And let Inuention of her beauty vaunt
+    When _Dorus_ sings his sweet Pamelas loue,
+    And tell the Gods, _Mars_ is predominant,
+    Seated with _Sol_, and weares Mineruas gloue:
+      And tell the world, that in the world there is
+      A heauen on earth, on earth no heauen but this.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1599]
+
+
+Sonet 1
+
+    The worlds faire Rose, and _Henries_ frosty fire,
+    Iohns tyrannie; and chast _Matilda's_ wrong,
+    Th'inraged Queene, and furious _Mortimer_,
+    The scourge of Fraunce, and his chast loue I song;
+    Deposed _Richard_, _Isabell_ exil'd,
+    The gallant _Tudor_, and fayre _Katherine_,
+    Duke _Humfrey_, and old _Cobhams_ haplesse child,
+    Couragious _Pole_, and that braue spiritfull Queene;
+    _Edward_, and that delicious London Dame,
+    _Brandon_, and that rich dowager of Fraunce,
+    _Surrey_, with his fayre paragon of fame,
+    _Dudleys_ mishap, and vertuous _Grays_ mischance;
+      Their seuerall loues since I before haue showne,
+      Now giue me leaue at last to sing mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 2
+
+_To the Reader of his Poems_
+
+    Into these loues who but for passion lookes,
+    At this first sight, here let him lay them by,
+    And seeke elsewhere in turning other bookes,
+    Which better may his labour satisfie.
+    No far-fetch'd sigh shall euer wound my brest,
+    Loue from mine eye, a teare shall neuer wring,
+    Nor in ah-mees my whyning Sonets drest,
+    (A Libertine) fantasticklie I sing;
+    My verse is the true image of my mind,
+    Euer in motion, still desiring change,
+    To choyce of all varietie inclin'd,
+    And in all humors sportiuely I range;
+      My actiue Muse is of the worlds right straine,
+      That cannot long one fashion entertaine.
+
+
+Sonet 3
+
+    Many there be excelling in this kind,
+    Whose well trick'd rimes with all inuention swell,
+    Let each commend as best shall like his minde,
+    Some _Sidney_, _Constable_, some _Daniell_.
+    That thus theyr names familiarly I sing,
+    Let none think them disparaged to be,
+    Poore men with reuerence may speake of a King,
+    And so may these be spoken of by mee;
+    My wanton verse nere keepes one certaine stay,
+    But now, at hand; then, seekes inuention far,
+    And with each little motion runnes astray,
+    Wilde, madding, iocond, and irreguler;
+      Like me that lust, my honest merry rimes,
+      Nor care for Criticke, nor regard the times.
+
+
+Sonet 5
+
+    My hart was slaine, and none but you and I,
+    Who should I thinke the murder should commit?
+    Since but your selfe, there was no creature by
+    But onely I, guiltlesse of murth'ring it.
+    It slew it selfe; the verdict on the view
+    Doe quit the dead and me not accessarie;
+    Well, well, I feare it will be prou'd by you,
+    The euidence so great a proofe doth carry.
+    But O, see, see, we need enquire no further,
+    Vpon your lips the scarlet drops are found,
+    And in your eye, the boy that did the murther,
+    Your cheekes yet pale since first they gaue the wound.
+      By this, I see, how euer things be past,
+      Yet heauen will still haue murther out at last.
+
+
+Sonet 8
+
+    Nothing but no and I, and I and no,
+    How falls it out so strangely you reply?
+    I tell yee (Faire) Ile not be aunswered so,
+    With this affirming no, denying I,
+    I say I loue, you slightly aunswer I?
+    I say you loue, you pule me out a no;
+    I say I die, you eccho me with I,
+    Saue me I cry, you sigh me out a no:
+    Must woe and I, haue naught but no and I?
+    No, I am I, If I no more can haue,
+    Aunswer no more, with silence make reply,
+    And let me take my selfe what I doe craue;
+      Let no and I, with I and you be so,
+      Then aunswer no, and I, and I, and no.
+
+
+Sonet 9
+
+    Loue once would daunce within my Mistres eye,
+    And wanting musique fitting for the place,
+    Swore that I should the Instrument supply,
+    And sodainly presents me with her face:
+    Straightwayes my pulse playes liuely in my vaines,
+    My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time,
+    My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours Straynes,
+    My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime,
+    My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare,
+    True diapazon in distincted sound:
+    My panting hart the treble makes the ayre,
+    And descants finely on the musiques ground;
+      Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lye,
+      Whilst the proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye.
+
+
+Sonet 10
+
+    Loue in an humor played the prodigall,
+    And bids my sences to a solemne feast,
+    Yet more to grace the company withall,
+    Inuites my heart to be the chiefest guest;
+    No other drinke would serue this gluttons turne,
+    But precious teares distilling from mine eyne,
+    Which with my sighs this Epicure doth burne,
+    Quaffing carouses in this costly wine,
+    Where, in his cups or'come with foule excesse,
+    Begins to play a swaggering Ruffins part,
+    And at the banquet, in his drunkennes,
+    Slew my deare friend, his kind and truest hart;
+      A gentle warning, friends, thus may you see
+      What 'tis to keepe a drunkard company.
+
+
+Sonet 11
+
+_To the Moone_
+
+    Phaebe looke downe, and here behold in mee,
+    The elements within thy sphere inclosed,
+    How kindly Nature plac'd them vnder thee,
+    And in my world, see how they are disposed;
+    My hope is earth, the lowest, cold and dry,
+    The grosser mother of deepe melancholie,
+    Water my teares, coold with humidity,
+    Wan, flegmatick, inclind by nature wholie;
+    My sighs, the ayre, hote, moyst, ascending hier,
+    Subtile of sanguine, dy'de in my harts dolor,
+    My thoughts, they be the element of fire,
+    Hote, dry, and piercing, still inclind to choller,
+      Thine eye the Orbe vnto all these, from whence,
+      Proceeds th' effects of powerfull influence.
+
+
+Sonet 12
+
+    To nothing fitter can I thee compare,
+    Then to the sonne of some rich penyfather,
+    Who hauing now brought on his end with care,
+    Leaues to his son all he had heap'd together;
+    This newe rich nouice, lauish of his chest,
+    To one man giues, and on another spends,
+    Then here he ryots, yet amongst the rest,
+    Haps to lend some to one true honest friend.
+    Thy gifts thou in obscuritie doost wast,
+    False friends thy kindnes, borne but to deceiue thee,
+    Thy loue, that is on the unworthy plac'd,
+    Time hath thy beauty, which with age will leaue thee;
+      Onely that little which to me was lent,
+      I giue thee back, when all the rest is spent.
+
+
+Sonet 13
+
+    You not alone, when you are still alone,
+    O God from you that I could priuate be,
+    Since you one were, I neuer since was one,
+    Since you in me, my selfe since out of me
+    Transported from my selfe into your beeing
+    Though either distant, present yet to eyther,
+    Senceles with too much ioy, each other seeing,
+    And onely absent when we are together.
+    Giue me my selfe, and take your selfe againe,
+    Deuise some means but how I may forsake you,
+    So much is mine that doth with you remaine,
+    That taking what is mine, with me I take you,
+      You doe bewitch me, O that I could flie
+      From my selfe you, or from your owne selfe I.
+
+
+Sonet 14
+
+_To the Soule_
+
+    That learned Father which so firmly proues
+    The soule of man immortall and diuine,
+    And doth the seuerall offices define,
+    _Anima._ Giues her that name as shee the body moues,
+    _Amor._ Then is she loue imbracing Charitie,
+    _Animus._ Mouing a will in vs, it is the mind,
+    _Mens._ Retayning knowledge, still the same in kind;
+    _Memoria._ As intelectuall it is the memorie,
+    _Ratio._ In judging, Reason onely is her name,
+    _Sensus._ In speedy apprehension it is sence,
+    _Conscientia._ In right or wrong, they call her conscience.
+    _Spiritus._ The spirit, when it to Godward doth inflame.
+      These of the soule the seuerall functions bee,
+      Which my hart lightned by thy loue doth see.
+
+
+Sonet 21
+
+    You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?
+    There was a time, you told me that you would,
+    But now againe you will the same deny,
+    If it might please you, would to God you could;
+    What will you hate? nay, that you will not neither,
+    Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you do,
+    What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?
+    Or will you loue me, and yet hate me to?
+    Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?
+    You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere,
+    I see your craft, now I perceaue your drift,
+    And all this while, I was mistaken there.
+      Your loue and hate is this, I now doe proue you,
+      You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.
+
+
+Sonet 22
+
+    An euill spirit your beauty haunts me still,
+    Where-with (alas) I haue been long possest,
+    Which ceaseth not to tempt me vnto ill,
+    Nor giues me once but one pore minutes rest.
+    In me it speakes, whether I sleepe or wake,
+    And when by meanes to driue it out I try,
+    With greater torments then it me doth take,
+    And tortures me in most extreamity.
+    Before my face, it layes all my dispaires,
+    And hasts me on vnto a suddaine death;
+    Now tempting me, to drown my selfe in teares,
+    And then in sighing to giue vp my breath:
+      Thus am I still prouok'd to euery euill,
+      By this good wicked spirit, sweet Angel deuill.
+
+
+Sonet 23
+
+_To the Spheares_
+
+    Thou which do'st guide this little world of loue,
+    Thy planets mansions heere thou mayst behold,
+    My brow the spheare where _Saturne_ still doth moue,
+    Wrinkled with cares: and withered, dry, and cold;
+    Mine eyes the Orbe where _Iupiter_ doth trace,
+    Which gently smile because they looke on thee,
+    _Mars_ in my swarty visage takes his place,
+    Made leane with loue, where furious conflicts bee.
+    _Sol_ in my breast with his hote scorching flame,
+    And in my hart alone doth _Venus_ raigne:
+    _Mercury_ my hands the Organs of thy fame,
+    And _Luna_ glides in my fantastick braine;
+      The starry heauen thy prayse by me exprest,
+      Thou the first moouer, guiding all the rest.
+
+
+Sonet 24
+
+    Love banish'd heauen, in earth was held in scorne,
+    Wandring abroad in neede and beggery,
+    And wanting friends though of a Goddesse borne,
+    Yet crau'd the almes of such as passed by.
+    I like a man, deuout and charitable;
+    Clothed the naked, lodg'd this wandring guest,
+    With sighs and teares still furnishing his table,
+    With what might make the miserable blest;
+    But this vngratefull for my good desart,
+    Entic'd my thoughts against me to conspire,
+    Who gaue consent to steale away my hart,
+    And set my breast his lodging on a fire:
+      Well, well, my friends, when beggers grow thus bold,
+      No meruaile then though charity grow cold.
+
+
+Sonet 25
+
+    O why should nature nigardly restraine,
+    The Sotherne Nations relish not our tongue,
+    Else should my lines glide on the waues of Rhene,
+    And crowne the Pirens with my liuing song;
+    But bounded thus to Scotland get you forth:
+    Thence take you wing vnto the Orcades,
+    There let my verse get glory in the North,
+    Making my sighs to thawe the frozen seas,
+    And let the Bards within the Irish Ile,
+    To whom my Muse with fiery wings shall passe,
+    Call backe the stifneckd rebels from exile,
+    And molifie the slaughtering Galliglasse:
+      And when my flowing numbers they rehearse,
+      Let Wolues and Bears be charmed with my verse.
+
+
+Sonet 27
+
+    I gaue my faith to Loue, Loue his to mee,
+    That hee and I, sworne brothers should remaine,
+    Thus fayth receiu'd, fayth giuen back againe,
+    Who would imagine bond more sure could be?
+    Loue flies to her, yet holds he my fayth taken,
+    Thus from my vertue raiseth my offence,
+    Making me guilty by mine innocence;
+    And surer bond by beeing so forsaken,
+    He makes her aske what I before had vow'd,
+    Giuing her that, which he had giuen me,
+    I bound by him, and he by her made free,
+    Who euer so hard breach of fayth alow'd?
+      Speake you that should of right and wrong discusse,
+      Was right ere wrong'd, or wrong ere righted thus?
+
+
+Sonet 29
+
+_To the Sences_
+
+    When conquering loue did first my hart assaile,
+    Vnto mine ayde I summond euery sence,
+    Doubting if that proude tyrant should preuaile,
+    My hart should suffer for mine eyes offence;
+    But he with beauty, first corrupted sight,
+    My hearing bryb'd with her tongues harmony,
+    My taste, by her sweet lips drawne with delight,
+    My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie;
+    But when my touching came to play his part,
+    (The King of sences, greater than the rest)
+    That yeelds loue up the keyes vnto my hart,
+    And tells the other how they should be blest;
+      And thus by those of whom I hop'd for ayde,
+      To cruell Loue my soule was first betrayd.
+
+
+Sonet 30
+
+_To the Vestalls_
+
+    Those Priests, which first the Vestall fire begun,
+    Which might be borrowed from no earthly flame,
+    Deuisd a vessell to receiue the sunne,
+    Beeing stedfastly opposed to the same;
+    Where with sweet wood laid curiously by Art,
+    Whereon the sunne might by reflection beate,
+    Receiuing strength from euery secret part,
+    The fuell kindled with celestiall heate.
+    Thy blessed eyes, the sunne which lights this fire,
+    My holy thoughts, they be the Vestall flame,
+    The precious odors be my chast desire,
+    My breast the fuell which includes the same;
+      Thou art my Vesta, thou my Goddesse art,
+      Thy hollowed Temple, onely is my hart.
+
+
+Sonet 31
+
+    Me thinks I see some crooked Mimick ieere
+    And taxe my Muse with this fantastick grace,
+    Turning my papers, asks what haue we heere?
+    Making withall, some filthy anticke face;
+    I feare no censure, nor what thou canst say,
+    Nor shall my spirit one iote of vigor lose,
+    Think'st thou my wit shall keepe the pack-horse way,
+    That euery dudgen low inuention goes?
+    Since Sonnets thus in bundles are imprest,
+    And euery drudge doth dull our satiate eare,
+    Think'st thou my loue, shall in those rags be drest
+    That euery dowdie, euery trull doth weare?
+      Vnto my pitch no common iudgement flies,
+      I scorne all earthlie dung-bred scarabies.
+
+
+Sonet 34
+
+_To Admiration_
+
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought,
+    That knowing more then euer hath beene taught,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Ayming at things exceeding all perfection,
+    To wisedoms selfe, to minister direction,
+    That I am onely staru'd in my desire;
+    Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,
+    Though my conceite I farther seeme to bend,
+    Then possibly inuention can extend,
+    And yet am onely staru'd in my desire;
+      If thou wilt wonder, heers the wonder loue,
+      That this to mee doth yet no wonder proue.
+
+
+Sonet 43
+
+    Whilst thus my pen striues to eternize thee,
+    Age rules my lines with wrincles in my face,
+    Where in the Map of all my misery,
+    Is modeld out the world of my disgrace,
+    Whilst in despight of tyrannizing times,
+    _Medea_ like I make thee young againe,
+    Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rimes,
+    And murther'st vertue with thy coy disdaine;
+    And though in youth, my youth vntimely perrish,
+    To keepe thee from obliuion and the graue,
+    Ensuing ages yet my rimes shall cherrish,
+    Where I entomb'd, my better part shall saue;
+      And though this earthly body fade and die
+      My name shall mount vpon eternitie.
+
+
+Sonet 44
+
+    Muses which sadly sit about my chayre,
+    Drownd in the teares extorted by my lines,
+    With heauy sighs whilst thus I breake the ayre,
+    Paynting my passions in these sad dissignes,
+    Since she disdaines to blesse my happy verse,
+    The strong built Trophies to her liuing fame,
+    Euer hence-forth my bosome be your hearse,
+    Wherein the world shal now entombe her name,
+    Enclose my musick you poor sencelesse walls,
+    Sith she is deafe and will not heare my mones,
+    Soften your selues with euery teare that falls,
+    Whilst I like _Orpheus_ sing to trees and stones:
+      Which with my plaints seeme yet with pitty moued,
+      Kinder then she who I so long haue loued.
+
+
+Sonet 45
+
+    Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,
+    And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,
+    I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,
+    Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.
+    But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,
+    Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,
+    Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,
+    Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.
+    Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,
+    And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
+    Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,
+    With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.
+      Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,
+      Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.
+
+
+Sonet 55
+
+    Truce gentle loue, a parly now I craue,
+    Me thinks, 'tis long since first these wars begun,
+    Nor thou nor I, the better yet can haue:
+    Bad is the match where neither party wone.
+    I offer free conditions of faire peace,
+    My hart for hostage, that it shall remaine,
+    Discharge our forces heere, let malice cease,
+    So for my pledge, thou giue me pledge againe.
+    Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne,
+    Still thirsting for subuersion of my state;
+    Doe what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burne,
+    Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate:
+      I send defiance, since if ouerthrowne,
+      Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine owne.
+
+
+Sonet 56
+
+_A Consonet_
+
+    Eyes with your teares, blind if you bee,
+    Why haue these teares such eyes to see,
+    Poore eyes, if yours teares cannot moue,
+    My teares, eyes, then must mone my loue,
+      Then eyes, since you haue lost your sight,
+      Weepe still, and teares shall lend you light,
+      Till both desolu'd, and both want might.
+    No, no, cleere eyes, you are not blind,
+    But in my teares discerne my mind:
+    Teares be the language which you speake,
+    Which my hart wanting, yet must breake;
+      My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs,
+      And make my sighs to get them tongs,
+      Yet more then this to her belongs.
+
+
+Sonet 57
+
+_To_ Lucie _Countesse of Bedford_
+
+    Great Lady, essence of my chiefest good,
+    Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit,
+    Adorn'd with gifts, enobled by thy blood,
+    Which by discent true vertue do'st inherit:
+    That vertue which no fortune can depriue,
+    Which thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother,
+    Whose royall minds with equall motion striue,
+    Which most in honour shall excell the other;
+    Vnto thy fame my Muse herself shall taske,
+    Which rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers,
+    And but thy selfe, no subject will I aske,
+    Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers.
+      Sweet Lady yet, grace this poore Muse of mine,
+      Whose faith, whose zeale, whose life, whose all is thine.
+
+
+Sonet 58
+
+_To the Lady_ Anne Harington
+
+    Madam, my words cannot expresse my mind,
+    My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you,
+    When your desarts all seuerally I find;
+    In this attempt of me doe claim their due,
+    Your gracious kindnes that doth claime my hart;
+    Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne,
+    Of me your vertues each doe claime a part,
+    And leaue me thus the least part of mine owne.
+    What should commend your modesty and wit,
+    Is by your wit and modesty commended
+    And standeth dumbe, in much admiring it,
+    And where it should begin, it there is ended;
+      Returning this your prayses onely due,
+      And to your selfe say you are onely you.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1602]
+
+
+Sonnet 12
+
+_To Lunacie_
+
+    As other men, so I my selfe doe muse,
+    Why in this sort I wrest Inuention so,
+    And why these giddy metaphors I vse,
+    Leauing the path the greater part doe goe;
+    I will resolue you; I am lunaticke,
+    And euer this in mad men you shall finde,
+    What they last thought on when the braine grew sick,
+    In most distraction keepe that still in minde.
+    Thus talking idely in this bedlam fit,
+    Reason and I, (you must conceiue) are twaine,
+    'Tis nine yeeres, now, since first I lost my wit
+    Beare with me, then, though troubled be my braine;
+      With diet and correction, men distraught,
+      (Not too farre past) may to their wits be brought.
+
+
+Sonnet 17
+
+    If hee from heauen that filch'd that liuing fire,
+    Condemn'd by _Ioue_ to endlesse torment be,
+    I greatly meruaile how you still goe free,
+    That farre beyond _Promethius_ did aspire?
+    The fire he stole, although of heauenly kinde,
+    Which from aboue he craftily did take,
+    Of liueles clods vs liuing men to make,
+    Againe bestow'd in temper of the mind.
+    But you broke in to heauens immortall store,
+    Where vertue, honour, wit, and beautie lay,
+    Which taking thence, you haue escap'd away,
+    Yet stand as free as ere you did before.
+      But old _Promethius_ punish'd for his rape,
+      Thus poore theeues suffer, when the greater scape.
+
+
+Sonnet 25
+
+_To Folly_
+
+    With fooles and children good discretion beares,
+    Then honest people beare with Loue and me,
+    Nor older yet, nor wiser made by yeeres,
+    Amongst the rest of fooles and children be;
+    Loues still a Baby, playes with gaudes and toyes,
+    And like a wanton sports with euery feather,
+    And Idiots still are running after boyes,
+    Then fooles and children fitt'st to goe together;
+    He still as young as when he first was borne,
+    No wiser I, then when as young as he,
+    You that behold vs, laugh vs not to scorne,
+    Giue Nature thanks, you are not such as we;
+      Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play,
+      Some wise in showe, more fooles in deede, then they.
+
+
+Sonnet 27
+
+    I heare some say, this man is not in loue,
+    Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say:
+    Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;
+    O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray,
+    Because I loosely tryfle in this sort,
+    As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile:
+    You now suppose me, all this time in sport,
+    And please your selfe with this conceit the while.
+    You shallow censures; sometime see you not
+    In greatest perills some men pleasant be,
+    Where fame by death is onely to be got,
+    They resolute, so stands the case with me;
+      Where other men, in depth of passion cry,
+      I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die.
+
+
+Sonnet 31
+
+    To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,
+    And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,
+    Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,
+    I thus appose my force of reason wholly,
+    Though I giue more, then well affords my state,
+    In which expense the most suppose me vaine,
+    Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,
+    Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,
+    They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,
+    And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,
+    I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,
+    Whether are these deccaued then, or I?
+      In euery thing I hold this maxim still,
+      The circumstance doth make it good or ill.
+
+
+Sonnet 41
+
+    Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest
+    When now the night doth summon all to sleepe?
+    Me thinks this time becommeth louers best,
+    Night was ordained together friends to keepe.
+    How happy are all other liuing things,
+    Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight,
+    The quiet euening yet together brings,
+    And each returnes vnto his loue at night.
+    O thou that art so curteous vnto all,
+    Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus,
+    That euery creature to his kinde doost call,
+    And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs.
+      Well could I wish it would be euer day,
+      If when night comes you bid me goe away.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+_To Prouerbe_
+
+    As Loue and I, late harbour'd in one Inne,
+    With Prouerbs thus each other intertaine;
+    _In loue there is no lacke, thus I beginne?
+    Faire words makes fooles, replieth he againe?
+    That spares to speake, doth spare to speed (quoth I)
+    As well (saith he) too forward as too slow.
+    Fortune assists the boldest, I replie?
+    A hasty man (quoth he) nere wanted woe.
+    Labour is light, where loue (quoth I) doth pay,
+    (Saith he) light burthens heauy, if farre borne?
+    (Quoth I) the maine lost, cast the by away:
+    You haue spunne a faire thred, he replies in scorne_.
+      And hauing thus a while each other thwarted,
+      Fooles as we met, so fooles againe we parted.
+
+
+Sonnet 63
+
+_To the high and mighty Prince, James, King of Scots_
+
+    Not thy graue Counsells, nor thy Subiects loue,
+    Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie,
+    Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue,
+    Others in vaine doe but historifie,
+    When thine owne glorie from thy selfe doth spring,
+    As though thou did'st, all meaner prayses scorne:
+    Of Kings a Poet, and the Poets King,
+    They Princes, but thou Prophets do'st adorne;
+    Whilst others by their Empires are renown'd,
+    Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne,
+    And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd,
+    But with thy Laurell, thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne;
+      That they whose pens, euen life to Kings doe giue,
+      In thee a King, shall seeke them selues to liue.
+
+
+Sonnet _66_
+
+_To the Lady_ L.S.
+
+    Bright starre of Beauty, on whose eyelids sit,
+    A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces,
+    The Goddesses of memory and wit,
+    Which in due order take their seuerall places,
+    In whose deare bosome, sweet delicious loue,
+    Layes downe his quiuer, that he once did beare,
+    Since he that blessed Paradice did proue,
+    Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there.
+    Let others striue to entertaine with words,
+    My soule is of another temper made;
+    I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords,
+    Deuouring time my faith, shall not inuade:
+      Still let my praise be honoured thus by you,
+      Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true.
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1605]
+
+
+Sonnet 43
+
+    Why should your faire eyes with such soueraine grace,
+    Dispearse their raies on euery vulgar spirit,
+    Whilst I in darknes in the selfesame place,
+    Get not one glance to recompence my merit:
+    So doth the plow-man gaze the wandring starre,
+    And onely rests contented with the light,
+    That neuer learnd what constellations are,
+    Beyond the bent of his vnknowing sight.
+    O why should beautie (custome to obey)
+    To their grosse sence applie her selfe so ill?
+    Would God I were as ignorant as they
+    When I am made vnhappy by my skill;
+      Onely compeld on this poore good to boast,
+      Heauens are not kind to them that know them most.
+
+
+Sonnet 46
+
+    Plain-path'd Experience the vnlearneds guide,
+    Her simple followers euidently shewes,
+    Sometime what schoolemen scarcely can decide,
+    Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knowes:
+    In making triall of a murther wrought,
+    If the vile actor of the heinous deede,
+    Neere the dead bodie happily be brought,
+    Oft hath been prou'd the breathlesse coarse will bleed;
+    She comming neere that my poore hart hath slaine,
+    Long since departed, (to the world no more)
+    The auncient wounds no longer can containe,
+    But fall to bleeding as they did before:
+      But what of this? should she to death be led,
+      It furthers iustice, but helpes not the dead.
+
+
+Sonnet 47
+
+    In pride of wit, when high desire of fame
+    Gaue life and courage to my labouring pen,
+    And first the sound and vertue of my name,
+    Won grace and credit in the eares of men:
+    With those the thronged Theaters that presse,
+    I in the circuite for the Lawrell stroue,
+    Where the full praise I freely must confesse,
+    In heate of blood a modest minde might moue:
+    With showts and daps at euerie little pawse,
+    When the prowd round on euerie side hath rung,
+    Sadly I sit vnmou'd with the applawse,
+    As though to me it nothing did belong:
+      No publique glorie vainely I pursue,
+      The praise I striue, is to eternize you.
+
+
+Sonnet 50
+
+    As in some Countries far remote from hence,
+    The wretched creature destined to die,
+    Hauing the iudgement due to his offence,
+    By Surgeons begg'd, their Art on him to trie:
+    Which on the liuing worke without remorce,
+    First make incision on each maistring vaine,
+    Then stanch the bleeding, then transperce the coarse,
+    And with their balmes recure the wounds againe,
+    Then poison and with Phisicke him restore,
+    Not that they feare the hopelesse man to kill,
+    But their experience to encrease the more;
+    Euen so my Mistresse works vpon my ill,
+      By curing me, and killing me each howre,
+      Onely to shew her beauties soueraigne powre.
+
+
+Sonnet 51
+
+    Calling to minde since first my loue begunne,
+    Th' incertaine times oft varying in their course,
+    How things still vnexpectedly haue runne,
+    As please the fates, by their resistlesse force:
+    Lastly, mine eyes amazedly haue scene,
+    _Essex_ great fall, _Tyrone_ his peace to gaine,
+    The quiet end of that long-liuing Queene,
+    This Kings faire entrance, and our peace with Spaine,
+    We and the Dutch at length our selues to seuer.
+    Thus the world doth, and euermore shall reele,
+    Yet to my goddesse am I constant euer;
+    How ere blind fortune turne her giddy wheele:
+      Though heauen and earth proue both to mee vntrue,
+      Yet am I still inuiolate to you.
+
+
+Sonnet 57
+
+    You best discern'd of my interior eies,
+    And yet your graces outwardly diuine,
+    Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,
+    Too riche a relique for so poore a shrine:
+    You in whome Nature chose herselfe to view,
+    When she her owne perfection would admire,
+    Bestowing all her excellence on you;
+    At whose pure eies Loue lights his halowed fire,
+    Euen as a man that in some traunce hath scene,
+    More than his wondring vttrance can vnfolde,
+    That rapt in spirite in better worlds hath beene,
+    So must your praise distractedly be tolde;
+      Most of all short, when I should shew you most,
+      In your perfections altogether lost.
+
+
+Sonnet 58
+
+    In former times, such as had store of coyne,
+    In warres at home, or when for conquests bound,
+    For feare that some their treasures should purloyne,
+    Gaue it to keepe to spirites within the ground;
+    And to attend it, them so strongly tide,
+    Till they return'd, home when they neuer came,
+    Such as by art to get the same haue tride,
+    From the strong spirits by no means get the same,
+    Neerer you come, that further flies away,
+    Striuing to holde it strongly in the deepe:
+    Euen as this spirit, so she alone doth play,
+    With those rich Beauties heauen giues her to keepe:
+      Pitty so left, to coldenes of her blood,
+      Not to auaile her, nor do others good.
+
+
+_To Sir Walter Aston, Knight of the honourable
+        order of the Bath, and my most
+               worthy Patron_
+
+    I will not striue m' inuention to inforce,
+    With needlesse words your eyes to entertaine,
+    T' obserue the formall ordinarie course
+    That euerie one so vulgarly doth faine:
+    Our interchanged and deliberate choise,
+    Is with more firme and true election sorted,
+    Then stands in censure of the common voice.
+    That with light humor fondly is transported:
+    Nor take I patterne of another's praise,
+    Then what my pen may constantly avow.
+    Nor walke more publique nor obscurer waies
+    Then vertue bids, and iudgement will allow;
+      So shall my tone, and best endeuours serue you,
+      And still shall studie, still so to deserue you.
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+1
+
+    Like an aduenturous Sea-farer am I,
+    Who hath some long and dang'rous Voyage beene,
+    And call'd to tell of his Discouerie,
+    How farre he sayl'd, what Countries he had seene,
+    Proceeding from the Port whence he put forth,
+    Shewes by his Compasse, how his Course he steer'd,
+    When East, when West, when South, and when by North,
+    As how the Pole to eu'ry place was rear'd,
+    What Capes he doubled, of what Continent,
+    The Gulphes and Straits, that strangely he had past,
+    Where most becalm'd, wherewith foule Weather spent,
+    And on what Rocks in perill to be cast?
+    Thus in my Loue, Time calls me to relate
+    My tedious Trauels, and oft-varying Fate.
+
+
+6
+
+    How many paltry, foolish, painted things,
+    That now in Coaches trouble eu'ry Street,
+    Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,
+    Ere they be well wrap'd in their winding Sheet?
+    Where I to thee Eternitie shall giue,
+    When nothing else remayneth of these dayes,
+    And Queenes hereafter shall be glad to liue
+    Vpon the Almes of thy superfluous prayse;
+    Virgins and Matrons reading these my Rimes,
+    Shall be so much delighted with thy story,
+    That they shall grieve, they liu'd not in these Times,
+    To haue seene thee, their Sexes onely glory:
+      So shalt thou flye aboue the vulgar Throng,
+      Still to suruiue in my immortall Song.
+
+
+8
+
+    There's nothing grieues me, but that Age should haste,
+    That in my dayes I may not see thee old,
+    That where those two deare sparkling Eyes are plac'd,
+    Onely two Loope-holes, then I might behold.
+    That louely, arched, yuorie, pollish'd Brow,
+    Defac'd with Wrinkles, that I might but see;
+    Thy daintie Hayre, so curl'd, and crisped now,
+    Like grizzled Mosse vpon some aged Tree;
+    Thy Cheeke, now flush with Roses, sunke, and leane,
+    Thy Lips, with age, as any Wafer thinne,
+    Thy Pearly teeth out of thy head so cleane,
+    That when thou feed'st, thy Nose shall touch thy Chinne:
+      These Lines that now thou scorn'st, which should delight thee,
+      Then would I make thee read, but to despight thee.
+
+
+15
+
+_His Remedie for Loue_
+
+    Since to obtaine thee, nothing me will sted,
+    I haue a Med'cine that shall cure my Loue,
+    The powder of her Heart dry'd, when she is dead,
+    That Gold nor Honour ne'r had power to moue;
+    Mix'd with her Teares, that ne'r her true-Loue crost,
+    Nor at Fifteene ne'r long'd to be a Bride,
+    Boyl'd with her Sighes, in giuing vp the Ghost,
+    That for her late deceased Husband dy'd;
+    Into the same then let a Woman breathe,
+    That being chid, did neuer word replie,
+    With one thrice-marry'd's Pray'rs, that did bequeath
+    A Legacie to stale Virginitie.
+      If this Receit haue not the pow'r to winne me,
+      Little Ile say, but thinke the Deuill's in me.
+
+
+21
+
+    A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,
+    (Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue)
+    Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,
+    To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue:
+    When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,
+    Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came;
+    Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot,
+    Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same:
+    But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,
+    Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.
+    But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne,
+    And ransacke all APOLLO'S golden Treasure;
+      Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines,
+      And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.
+
+
+27
+
+    Is not Loue here, as 'tis in other Clymes,
+    And diff'reth it, as doe the seu'rall Nations?
+    Or hath it lost the Vertue, with the Times,
+    Or in this land alt'reth with the Fashions?
+    Or haue our Passions lesser pow'r then theirs,
+    Who had lesse Art them liuely to expresse?
+    Is Nature growne lesse pow'rfull in their Heires,
+    Or in our Fathers did the more transgresse?
+    I am sure my Sighes come from a Heart as true,
+    As any Mans, that Memory can boast,
+    And my Respects and Seruices to you
+    Equall with his, that loues his Mistris most:
+      Or Nature must be partiall in my Cause,
+      Or onely you doe violate her Lawes.
+
+
+36
+
+_Cupid coniured_
+
+    Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast been so slacke
+    To wound her Heart, whose Eyes haue wounded me,
+    And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,
+    Thus to my aid, I lastly coniure thee;
+    By Hellish _Styx_ (by which the THUND'RER sweares)
+    By thy faire Mothers vnauoided Power,
+    By HECAT'S Names, by PROSERPINE'S sad Teares,
+    When she was rapt to the infernall Bower,
+    By thine own loued PSYCHES, by the Fires
+    Spent on thine Altars, flaming vp to Heau'n;
+    By all the Louers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,
+    By all the Wounds that euer thou hast giu'n;
+      I coniure thee by all that I haue nam'd,
+      To make her loue, or CUPID be thou damn'd.
+
+
+48
+
+    Cupid, I hate thee, which I'de haue thee know,
+    A naked Starueling euer may'st thou be,
+    Poore Rogue, goe pawne thy _Fascia_ and thy Bow,
+    For some few Ragges, wherewith to couer thee;
+    Or if thou'lt not, thy Archerie forbeare,
+    To some base Rustick doe thy selfe preferre,
+    And when Corne's sowne, or growne into the Eare,
+    Practise thy Quiuer, and turne Crow-keeper;
+    Or being Blind (as fittest for the Trade)
+    Goe hyre thy selfe some bungling Harpers Boy;
+    They that are blind, are Minstrels often made,
+    So may'st thou liue, to thy faire Mothers Ioy:
+      That whilst with MARS she holdeth her old way,
+      Thou, her Blind Sonne, may'st sit by them, and play.
+
+
+52
+
+    What dost thou meane to Cheate me of my Heart,
+    To take all Mine, and giue me none againe?
+    Or haue thine Eyes such Magike, or that Art,
+    That what They get, They euer doe retaine?
+    Play not the Tyrant, but take some Remorse,
+    Rebate thy Spleene, if but for Pitties sake;
+    Or Cruell, if thou can'st not; let vs scorse,
+    And for one Piece of Thine, my whole heart take.
+    But what of Pitty doe I speake to Thee,
+    Whose Brest is proofe against Complaint or Prayer?
+    Or can I thinke what my Reward shall be
+    From that proud Beauty, which was my betrayer?
+      What talke I of a Heart, when thou hast none?
+      Or if thou hast, it is a flinty one.
+
+
+61
+
+    Since there 's no helpe, Come let vs kisse and part,
+    Nay, I haue done: You get no more of Me,
+    And I am glad, yea glad withall my heart,
+    That thus so cleanly, I my Selfe can free,
+    Shake hands for euer, Cancell all our Vowes,
+    And when we meet at any time againe,
+    Be it not scene in either of our Browes,
+    That We one iot of former Loue reteyne;
+    Now at the last gaspe of Loues latest Breath,
+    When his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,
+    When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death,
+    And Innocence is closing vp his Eyes,
+      Now if thou would'st, when all haue giuen him ouer,
+      From Death to Life, thou might'st him yet recouer.
+
+
+
+
+ODES
+
+[from the Edition of 1619]
+
+
+TO HIMSELFE AND THE HARPE
+
+                    And why not I, as hee
+                    That's greatest, if as free,
+                      (In sundry strains that striue,
+                    Since there so many be)
+                      Th' old _Lyrick_ kind reuiue?
+
+                    I will, yea, and I may;
+                    Who shall oppose my way?
+                      For what is he alone,
+                    That of himselfe can say,
+                      Hee's Heire of _Helicon_?                       10
+
+                    APOLLO, and the Nine,
+                    Forbid no Man their Shrine,
+                      That commeth with hands pure;
+                    Else be they so diuine,
+                      They will not him indure.
+
+                    For they be such coy Things,
+                    That they care not for Kings,
+                      And dare let them know it;
+                    Nor may he touch their Springs,
+                      That is not borne a Poet.                       20
+
+Pyreneus, _King     The _Phocean_ it did proue,
+of_ Phocis,         Whom when foule Lust did moue,
+_attempting to        Those Mayds vnchast to make,
+rauish the Muses._  Fell, as with them he stroue,
+                    His Neck and iustly brake.
+
+                    That instrument ne'r heard,
+                    Strooke by the skilfull Bard,
+                      It strongly to awake;
+                    But it th' infernalls skard,
+                      And made Olympus quake.                         30
+
+Sam. lib. 1.        As those Prophetike strings
+cap. 16.            Whose sounds with fiery Wings,
+                      Draue Fiends from their abode,
+                    Touch'd by the best of Kings,
+                      That sang the holy Ode.
+
+Orpheus _the_       So his, which Women slue,
+Thracian _Poet_.    And it int' Hebrus threw,
+Caput, Hebre,         Such sounds yet forth it sent,
+lyramque Excipis.   The Bankes to weepe that drue,
+&c. Ouid. lib. 11.    As downe the streame it went.                   40
+Metam.
+Mercury _inuentor   That by the Tortoyse shell,
+of the Harpe, as_   To MAYAS Sonne it fell,
+Horace Ode 10.        The most thereof not doubt
+lib. 1. _curuaq;    But sure some Power did dwell,
+lyra parente_.        In Him who found it out.
+
+Thebes _fayned      The Wildest of the field,
+to haue beene       And Ayre, with Riuers t' yeeld,
+raysed by             Which mou'd; that sturdy Glebes,
+Musicke._           And massie Oakes could weeld,
+                      To rayse the pyles of _Thebes_.                 50
+
+                    And diuersly though Strung,
+                    So anciently We sung,
+                      To it, that Now scarce knowne,
+                    If first it did belong
+                      To _Greece_, or if our Owne.
+
+_The ancient_       The _Druydes_ imbrew'd,
+British _Priests_   With Gore, on Altars rude
+so called of          With Sacrifices crown'd,
+their abode in      In hollow Woods bedew'd,
+woods.                Ador'd the Trembling sound.                     60
+
+Pindar _Prince of   Though wee be All to seeke,
+the_ Greeke         Of PINDAR that Great _Greeke_,
+lyricks, _of whom_    To Finger it aright,
+Horace: Pindarum    The Soule with power to strike,
+quisquis studet,      His hand retayn'd such Might.
+&c. Ode 2. lib. 4.
+Horace _first of    Or him that _Rome_ did grace
+the_ Romans _in     Whose Ayres we all imbrace,
+that kind_.           That scarcely found his Peere,
+                    Nor giueth PHOEBVS place,
+                      For Strokes diuinely cleere.                    70
+
+_The_ Irish         The _Irish_ I admire,
+_Harpe_.            And still cleaue to that Lyre,
+                      As our Musike's Mother,
+                    And thinke, till I expire,
+                      APOLLO'S such another.
+
+                    As _Britons_, that so long
+                    Haue held this Antike Song,
+                      And let all our Carpers
+                    Forbeare their fame to wrong,
+                      Th' are right skilfull Harpers.                 80
+
+Southerne, _an_     _Southerne_, I long thee spare,
+English _Lyrick_.   Yet wish thee well to fare,
+                      Who me pleased'st greatly,
+                    As first, therefore more rare,
+                      Handling thy Harpe neatly.
+
+                    To those that with despight
+                    Shall terme these Numbers slight,
+                      Tell them their Iudgement's blind,
+                    Much erring from the right,
+                      It is a Noble kind.                             90
+
+_An old_ English    Nor is 't the Verse doth make,
+_Rymer_.            That giueth, or doth take,
+                      'Tis possible to clyme,
+                    To kindle, or to slake,
+                      Although in SKELTON'S Ryme.
+
+
+TO THE NEW YEERE
+
+    Rich Statue, double-faced,
+    With Marble Temples graced,
+      To rayse thy God-head hyer,
+    In flames where Altars shining,
+    Before thy Priests diuining,
+      Doe od'rous Fumes expire.
+
+    Great IANVS, I thy pleasure,
+    With all the _Thespian_ treasure,
+      Doe seriously pursue;
+    To th' passed yeere returning,                                    10
+    As though the old adiourning,
+      Yet bringing in the new.
+
+    Thy ancient Vigils yeerely,
+    I haue obserued cleerely,
+      Thy Feasts yet smoaking bee;
+    Since all thy store abroad is,
+    Giue something to my Goddesse,
+      As hath been vs'd by thee.
+
+    Giue her th' _Eoan_ brightnesse,
+    Wing'd with that subtill lightnesse,                              20
+      That doth trans-pierce the Ayre;
+    The Roses of the Morning
+    The rising Heau'n adorning,
+      To mesh with flames of Hayre.
+
+    Those ceaselesse Sounds, aboue all,
+    Made by those Orbes that moue all,
+      And euer swelling there,
+    Wrap'd vp in Numbers flowing,
+    Them actually bestowing,
+      For Iewels at her Eare.                                         30
+
+    O Rapture great and holy,
+    Doe thou transport me wholly,
+      So well her forme to vary,
+    That I aloft may beare her,
+    Whereas I will insphere her,
+      In Regions high and starry.
+
+    And in my choise Composures,
+    The soft and easie Closures,
+      So amorously shall meet;
+    That euery liuely Ceasure                                         40
+    Shall tread a perfect Measure
+      Set on so equall feet.
+
+    That Spray to fame so fertle,
+    The Louer-crowning Mirtle,
+      In Wreaths of mixed Bowes,
+    Within whose shades are dwelling
+    Those Beauties most excelling,
+      Inthron'd vpon her Browes.
+
+    Those Paralels so euen,
+    Drawne on the face of Heauen,                                     50
+      That curious Art supposes,
+    Direct those Gems, whose cleerenesse
+    Farre off amaze by neerenesse,
+      Each Globe such fire incloses.
+
+    Her Bosome full of Blisses,
+    By Nature made for Kisses,
+      So pure and wond'rous cleere,
+    Whereas a thousand Graces
+    Behold their louely Faces,
+      As they are bathing there.                                      60
+
+    O, thou selfe-little blindnesse,
+    The kindnesse of vnkindnesse,
+      Yet one of those diuine;
+    Thy Brands to me were leuer,
+    Thy _Fascia_, and thy Quiuer,
+      And thou this Quill of mine.
+
+    This Heart so freshly bleeding,
+    Vpon it owne selfe feeding,
+      Whose woundes still dropping be;
+    O Loue, thy selfe confounding,                                    70
+    Her coldnesse so abounding,
+      And yet such heat in me.
+
+    Yet if I be inspired,
+    Ile leaue thee so admired,
+      To all that shall succeed,
+    That were they more then many,
+    'Mongst all, there is not any,
+      That Time so oft shall read.
+
+    Nor Adamant ingraued,
+    That hath been choisely 'st saued,                                80
+      IDEA'S Name out-weares;
+    So large a Dower as this is,
+    The greatest often misses,
+      The Diadem that beares.
+
+
+TO HIS VALENTINE
+
+    Muse, bid the Morne awake,
+      Sad Winter now declines,
+    Each Bird doth chuse a Make,
+      This day 's Saint VALENTINE'S;
+    For that good Bishop's sake
+    Get vp, and let vs see,
+    What Beautie it shall bee,
+      That Fortune vs assignes.
+
+    But lo, in happy How'r,
+      The place wherein she lyes,                                     10
+    In yonder climbing Tow'r,
+      Gilt by the glitt'ring Rise;
+    O IOVE! that in a Show'r,
+    As once that Thund'rer did,
+    When he in drops lay hid,
+      That I could her surprize.
+
+    Her Canopie Ile draw,
+      With spangled Plumes bedight,
+    No Mortall euer saw
+      So rauishing a sight;                                           20
+    That it the Gods might awe,
+    And pow'rfully trans-pierce
+    The Globie Vniuerse,
+      Out-shooting eu'ry Light.
+
+    My Lips Ile softly lay
+      Vpon her heau'nly Cheeke,
+    Dy'd like the dawning Day,
+      As polish'd Iuorie sleeke:
+    And in her Eare Ile say;
+    O, thou bright Morning-Starre,                                    30
+    'Tis I that come so farre,
+      My Valentine to seeke.
+
+    Each little Bird, this Tyde,
+      Doth chuse her loued Pheere,
+    Which constantly abide
+      In Wedlock all the yeere,
+    As Nature is their Guide:
+    So may we two be true,
+    This yeere, nor change for new,
+      As Turtles coupled were.                                        40
+
+    The Sparrow, Swan, the Doue,
+      Though VENVS Birds they be,
+    Yet are they not for Loue
+      So absolute as we:
+    For Reason vs doth moue;
+    They but by billing woo:
+    Then try what we can doo,
+      To whom each sense is free.
+
+    Which we haue more then they,
+      By liuelyer Organs sway'd,                                      50
+    Our Appetite each way
+      More by our Sense obay'd:
+    Our Passions to display,
+    This Season vs doth fit;
+    Then let vs follow it,
+      As Nature vs doth lead.
+
+    One Kisse in two let's breake,
+      Confounded with the touch,
+    But halfe words let vs speake,
+      Our Lip's imploy'd so much,                                     60
+    Vntill we both grow weake,
+    With sweetnesse of thy breath;
+    O smother me to death:
+      Long let our Ioyes be such.
+
+    Let's laugh at them that chuse
+      Their Valentines by lot,
+    To weare their Names that vse,
+      Whom idly they haue got:
+    Such poore choise we refuse,
+    Saint VALENTINE befriend;                                         70
+    We thus this Morne may spend,
+      Else Muse, awake her not.
+
+
+THE HEART
+
+    If thus we needs must goe,
+    What shall our one Heart doe,
+    This One made of our Two?
+
+    Madame, two Hearts we brake,
+    And from them both did take
+    The best, one Heart to make.
+
+    Halfe this is of your Heart,
+    Mine in the other part,
+    Ioyn'd by our equall Art.
+
+    Were it cymented, or sowne,                                       10
+    By Shreds or Pieces knowne,
+    We each might find our owne.
+
+    But 'tis dissolu'd, and fix'd,
+    And with such cunning mix'd,
+    No diffrence that betwixt.
+
+    But how shall we agree,
+    By whom it kept shall be,
+    Whether by you, or me?
+
+    It cannot two Brests fill,
+    One must be heartlesse still,                                     20
+    Vntill the other will.
+
+    It came to me one day,
+    When I will'd it to say,
+    With whether it would stay?
+
+    It told me, in your Brest,
+    Where it might hope to rest:
+    For if it were my Ghest,
+
+    For certainety it knew,
+    That I would still anew
+    Be sending it to you.                                             30
+
+    Neuer, I thinke, had two
+    Such worke, so much to doo,
+    A Vnitie to woo.
+
+    Yours was so cold and chaste,
+    Whilst mine with zeale did waste,
+    Like Fire with Water plac'd.
+
+    How did my Heart intreat,
+    How pant, how did it beat,
+    Till it could giue yours heat!
+
+    Till to that temper brought,                                      40
+    Through our perfection wrought,
+    That blessing eythers Thought.
+
+    In such a Height it lyes,
+    From this base Worlds dull Eyes,
+    That Heauen it not enuyes.
+
+    All that this Earth can show,
+    Our Heart shall not once know,
+    For it too vile and low.
+
+
+THE SACRIFICE TO APOLLO
+
+    Priests of APOLLO, sacred be the Roome,
+    For this learn'd Meeting: Let no barbarous Groome,
+          How braue soe'r he bee,
+          Attempt to enter;
+          But of the Muses free,
+          None here may venter;
+    This for the _Delphian_ Prophets is prepar'd:
+    The prophane Vulgar are from hence debar'd.
+
+    And since the Feast so happily begins,
+    Call vp those faire Nine, with their Violins;                     10
+          They are begot by IOVE,
+          Then let vs place them,
+          Where no Clowne in may shoue,
+          That may disgrace them:
+    But let them neere to young APOLLO sit;
+    So shall his Foot-pace ouer-flow with Wit.
+
+    Where be the Graces, where be those fayre Three?
+    In any hand they may not absent bee:
+          They to the Gods are deare,
+          And they can humbly                                         20
+          Teach vs, our Selues to beare,
+          And doe things comely:
+    They, and the Muses, rise both from one Stem,
+    They grace the Muses, and the Muses them.
+
+    Bring forth your Flaggons (fill'd with sparkling Wine)
+    Whereon swolne BACCHVS, crowned with a Vine,
+          Is grauen, and fill out,
+          It well bestowing,
+          To eu'ry Man about,
+          In Goblets flowing:                                         30
+    Let not a Man drinke, but in Draughts profound;
+    To our God PHOEBVS let the Health goe Round.
+
+    Let your Iests flye at large; yet therewithall
+    See they be Salt, but yet not mix'd with Gall:
+          Not tending to disgrace,
+          But fayrely giuen,
+          Becomming well the place,
+          Modest, and euen;
+    That they with tickling Pleasure may prouoke
+    Laughter in him, on whom the Iest is broke.                       40
+
+    Or if the deeds of HEROES ye rehearse,
+    Let them be sung in so well-ord'red Verse,
+          That each word haue his weight,
+          Yet runne with pleasure;
+          Holding one stately height,
+          In so braue measure,
+    That they may make the stiffest Storme seeme weake,
+    And dampe IOVES Thunder, when it lowd'st doth speake.
+
+    And if yee list to exercise your Vayne,
+    Or in the Sock, or in the Buskin'd Strayne,                       50
+          Let Art and Nature goe
+          One with the other;
+          Yet so, that Art may show
+          Nature her Mother;
+    The thick-brayn'd Audience liuely to awake,
+    Till with shrill Claps the Theater doe shake.
+
+    Sing Hymnes to BACCHVS then, with hands vprear'd,
+    Offer to IOVE, who most is to be fear'd;
+          From him the Muse we haue,
+          From him proceedeth                                         60
+          More then we dare to craue;
+          'Tis he that feedeth
+    Them, whom the World would starue; then let the Lyre
+    Sound, whilst his Altars endlesse flames expire.
+
+
+TO CVPID
+
+    Maydens, why spare ye?
+    Or whether not dare ye
+      Correct the blind Shooter?
+    Because wanton VENVS,
+    So oft that doth paine vs,
+      Is her Sonnes Tutor.
+
+    Now in the Spring,
+    He proueth his Wing,
+      The Field is his Bower,
+    And as the small Bee,                                             10
+    About flyeth hee,
+      From Flower to Flower.
+
+    And wantonly roues,
+    Abroad in the Groues,
+      And in the Ayre houers,
+    Which when it him deweth,
+    His Fethers he meweth,
+      In sighes of true Louers.
+
+    And since doom'd by Fate,
+    (That well knew his Hate)                                         20
+      That Hee should be blinde;
+    For very despite,
+    Our Eyes be his White,
+      So wayward his kinde.
+
+    If his Shafts loosing,
+    (Ill his Mark choosing)
+      Or his Bow broken;
+    The Moane VENVS maketh,
+    And care that she taketh,
+      Cannot be spoken.                                               30
+
+    To VULCAN commending
+    Her loue, and straight sending
+      Her Doues and her Sparrowes,
+    With Kisses vnto him,
+    And all but to woo him,
+      To make her Sonne Arrowes.
+
+    Telling what he hath done,
+    (Sayth she, Right mine owne Sonne)
+      In her Armes she him closes,
+    Sweetes on him fans,                                              40
+    Layd in Downe of her Swans,
+      His Sheets, Leaues of Roses.
+
+    And feeds him with Kisses;
+    Which oft when he misses,
+      He euer is froward:
+    The Mothers o'r-ioying,
+    Makes by much coying,
+      The Child so vntoward.
+
+    Yet in a fine Net,
+    That a Spider set,                                                50
+      The Maydens had caught him;
+    Had she not beene neere him,
+    And chanced to heare him,
+      More good they had taught him.
+
+
+AN AMOVRET ANACREONTICK
+
+    Most good, most faire,
+    Or Thing as rare,
+    To call you's lost;
+    For all the cost
+    Words can bestow,
+    So poorely show
+    Vpon your prayse,
+    That all the wayes
+    Sense hath, come short:
+    Whereby Report                                                    10
+    Falls them vnder;
+    That when Wonder
+    More hath seyzed,
+    Yet not pleased,
+    That it in kinde
+    Nothing can finde,
+    You to expresse:
+    Neuerthelesse,
+    As by Globes small,
+    This Mightie ALL                                                  20
+    Is shew'd, though farre
+    From Life, each Starre
+    A World being:
+    So wee seeing
+    You, like as that,
+    Onely trust what
+    Art doth vs teach;
+    And when I reach
+    At Morall Things,
+    And that my Strings                                               30
+    Grauely should strike,
+    Straight some mislike
+    Blotteth mine ODE.
+    As with the Loade,
+    The Steele we touch,
+    Forced ne'r so much,
+    Yet still remoues
+    To that it loues,
+    Till there it stayes;
+    So to your prayse                                                 40
+    I turne euer,
+    And though neuer
+    From you mouing,
+    Happie so louing.
+
+
+LOVES CONQVEST
+
+      Wer't granted me to choose,
+    How I would end my dayes;
+      Since I this life must loose,
+    It should be in Your praise;
+    For there is no Bayes
+      Can be set aboue you.
+
+      S' impossibly I loue You,
+    And for you sit so hie,
+      Whence none may remoue You
+    In my cleere Poesie,                                              10
+    That I oft deny
+      You so ample Merit.
+
+      The freedome of my Spirit
+    Maintayning (still) my Cause,
+      Your Sex not to inherit,
+    Vrging the _Salique_ Lawes;
+    But your Vertue drawes
+      From me euery due.
+
+      Thus still You me pursue,
+    That no where I can dwell,                                        20
+      By Feare made iust to You,
+    Who naturally rebell,
+    Of You that excell
+      That should I still Endyte,
+
+      Yet will You want some Ryte.
+    That lost in your high praise
+      I wander to and fro,
+    As seeing sundry Waies:
+    Yet which the right not know
+      To get out of this Maze.                                        30
+
+
+TO THE VIRIGINIAN VOYAGE
+
+    You braue Heroique minds,
+    Worthy your Countries Name;
+      That Honour still pursue,
+      Goe, and subdue,
+    Whilst loyt'ring Hinds
+    Lurke here at home, with shame.
+
+    _Britans_, you stay too long,
+    Quickly aboard bestow you,
+      And with a merry Gale
+      Swell your stretch'd Sayle,                                     10
+    With Vowes as strong,
+    As the Winds that blow you.
+
+    Your Course securely steere,
+    West and by South forth keepe,
+      Rocks, Lee-shores, nor Sholes,
+      When EOLVS scowles,
+    You need not feare,
+    So absolute the Deepe.
+
+    And cheerefully at Sea,
+    Successe you still intice,                                        20
+      To get the Pearle and Gold,
+      And ours to hold,
+    VIRGINIA,
+    Earth's onely Paradise.
+
+    Where Nature hath in store
+    Fowle, Venison, and Fish,
+      And the Fruitfull'st Soyle,
+      Without your Toyle,
+    Three Haruests more,
+    All greater then your Wish.                                       30
+
+    And the ambitious Vine
+    Crownes with his purple Masse,
+      The cedar reaching hie
+      To kisse the Sky
+    The Cypresse, Pine
+    And vse-full Sassafras.
+
+    To whome, the golden Age
+    Still Natures lawes doth giue,
+      No other Cares that tend,
+      But Them to defend                                              40
+    From Winters rage,
+    That long there doth not liue.
+
+    When as the Lushious smell
+    Of that delicious Land,
+      Aboue the Seas that flowes,
+      The cleere Wind throwes,
+    Your Hearts to swell
+    Approaching the deare Strande.
+
+    In kenning of the Shore
+    (Thanks to God first giuen,)                                      50
+      O you the happy'st men,
+      Be Frolike then,
+    Let Cannons roare,
+    Frighting the wide Heauen.
+
+    And in Regions farre
+    Such Heroes bring yee foorth,
+      As those from whom We came,
+      And plant Our name,
+    Vnder that Starre
+    Not knowne vnto our North.                                        60
+
+    And as there Plenty growes
+    Of Lawrell euery where,
+      APOLLO'S Sacred tree,
+      You may it see,
+    A Poets Browes
+    To crowne, that may sing there.
+
+    Thy Voyages attend,
+    Industrious HACKLVIT,
+      Whose Reading shall inflame
+      Men to seeke Fame,                                              70
+    And much commend
+    To after-Times thy Wit.
+
+
+AN ODE WRITTEN IN THE PEAKE
+
+    This while we are abroad,
+      Shall we not touch our Lyre?
+    Shall we not sing an ODE?
+      Shall that holy Fire,
+    In vs that strongly glow'd,
+      In this cold Ayre expire?
+
+    Long since the Summer layd
+      Her lustie Brau'rie downe,
+    The Autumne halfe is way'd,
+      And BOREAS 'gins to frowne,                                     10
+    Since now I did behold
+      Great BRVTES first builded Towne.
+
+    Though in the vtmost _Peake_,
+      A while we doe remaine,
+    Amongst the Mountaines bleake
+      Expos'd to Sleet and Raine,
+    No Sport our Houres shall breake,
+      To exercise our Vaine.
+
+    What though bright PHOEBVS Beames
+      Refresh the Southerne Ground,                                   20
+    And though the Princely _Thames_
+      With beautious Nymphs abound,
+    And by old _Camber's_ Streames
+      Be many Wonders found;
+
+    Yet many Riuers cleare
+      Here glide in Siluer Swathes,
+    And what of all most deare,
+      _Buckston's_ delicious Bathes,
+    Strong Ale and Noble Cheare,
+      T' asswage breeme Winters scathes.                              30
+
+    Those grim and horrid Caues,
+      Whose Lookes affright the day,
+    Wherein nice Nature saues,
+      What she would not bewray,
+    Our better leasure craues,
+      And doth inuite our Lay.
+
+    In places farre or neere,
+      Or famous, or obscure,
+    Where wholesome is the Ayre,
+      Or where the most impure,                                       40
+    All times, and euery-where,
+      The Muse is still in vre.
+
+
+HIS DEFENCE AGAINST THE IDLE CRITICK
+
+    The Ryme nor marres, nor makes,
+    Nor addeth it, nor takes,
+      From that which we propose;
+    Things imaginarie
+    Doe so strangely varie,
+      That quickly we them lose.
+
+    And what 's quickly begot,
+    As soone againe is not,
+      This doe I truely know:
+    Yea, and what 's borne with paine,                                10
+    That Sense doth long'st retaine,
+      Gone with a greater Flow.
+
+    Yet this Critick so sterne,
+    But whom, none must discerne,
+      Nor perfectly haue seeing,
+    Strangely layes about him,
+    As nothing without him
+      Were worthy of being.
+
+    That I my selfe betray
+    To that most publique way,                                        20
+      Where the Worlds old Bawd,
+    Custome, that doth humor,
+    And by idle rumor,
+      Her Dotages applaud.
+
+    That whilst he still prefers
+    Those that be wholly hers,
+      Madnesse and Ignorance,
+    I creepe behind the Time,
+    From spertling with their Crime,
+      And glad too with my Chance.                                    30
+
+    O wretched World the while,
+    When the euill most vile,
+      Beareth the fayrest face,
+    And inconstant lightnesse,
+    With a scornefull slightnesse,
+      The best Things doth disgrace.
+
+    Whilst this strange knowing Beast,
+    Man, of himselfe the least,
+      His Enuie declaring,
+    Makes Vertue to descend,                                          40
+    Her title to defend,
+      Against him, much preparing.
+
+    Yet these me not delude,
+    Nor from my place extrude,
+      By their resolued Hate;
+    Their vilenesse that doe know;
+    Which to my selfe I show,
+      To keepe aboue my Fate.
+
+
+TO HIS RIVALL
+
+      Her lou'd I most,
+      By thee that 's lost,
+    Though she were wonne with leasure;
+      She was my gaine,
+      But to my paine,
+    Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.
+
+      The Ship full fraught
+      With Gold, farre sought,
+    Though ne'r so wisely helmed,
+      May suffer wracke                                               10
+      In sayling backe,
+    By Tempest ouer-whelmed.
+
+      But shee, good Sir,
+      Did not preferre
+    You, for that I was ranging;
+      But for that shee
+      Found faith in mee,
+    And she lou'd to be changing.
+
+      Therefore boast not
+      Your happy Lot,                                                 20
+    Be silent now you haue her;
+      The time I knew
+      She slighted you,
+    When I was in her fauour.
+
+      None stands so fast,
+      But may be cast
+    By Fortune, and disgraced:
+      Once did I weare
+      Her Garter there,
+    Where you her Gloue haue placed.                                  30
+
+      I had the Vow
+      That thou hast now,
+    And Glances to discouer
+      Her Loue to mee,
+      And she to thee
+    Reades but old Lessons ouer.
+
+      She hath no Smile
+      That can beguile,
+    But as my Thought I know it;
+      Yea, to a Hayre,                                                40
+      Both when and where,
+    And how she will bestow it.
+
+      What now is thine,
+      Was onely mine,
+    And first to me was giuen;
+      Thou laugh'st at mee,
+      I laugh at thee,
+    And thus we two are euen.
+
+      But Ile not mourne,
+      But stay my Turne,                                              50
+    The Wind may come about, Sir,
+      And once againe
+      May bring me in,
+    And help to beare you out, Sir.
+
+
+A SKELTONIAD
+
+    The Muse should be sprightly,
+    Yet not handling lightly
+    Things graue; as much loath,
+    Things that be slight, to cloath
+    Curiously: To retayne
+    The Comelinesse in meane,
+    Is true Knowledge and Wit.
+    Not me forc'd Rage doth fit,
+    That I thereto should lacke
+    Tabacco, or need Sacke,                                           10
+    Which to the colder Braine
+    Is the true _Hyppocrene_;
+    Nor did I euer care
+    For great Fooles, nor them spare.
+    Vertue, though neglected,
+    Is not so deiected,
+    As vilely to descend
+    To low Basenesse their end;
+    Neyther each ryming Slaue
+    Deserues the Name to haue                                         20
+    Of Poet: so the Rabble
+    Of Fooles, for the Table,
+    That haue their Iests by Heart,
+    As an Actor his Part,
+    Might assume them Chayres
+    Amongst the Muses Heyres.
+    _Parnassus_ is not clome
+    By euery such Mome;
+    Vp whose steep side who swerues,
+    It behoues t' haue strong Nerues:                                 30
+    My Resolution such,
+    How well, and not how much
+    To write, thus doe I fare,
+    Like some few good that care
+    (The euill sort among)
+    How well to liue, and not how long.
+
+
+THE CRYER
+
+      Good Folke, for Gold or Hyre,
+      But helpe me to a Cryer;
+    For my poore Heart is runne astray
+    After two Eyes, that pass'd this way.
+        O yes, O yes, O yes,
+        If there be any Man,
+        In Towne or Countrey, can
+        Bring me my Heart againe,
+        Ile please him for his paine;
+    And by these Marks I will you show,                               10
+    That onely I this Heart doe owe.
+        It is a wounded Heart,
+        Wherein yet sticks the Dart,
+      Eu'ry piece sore hurt throughout it,
+      Faith, and Troth, writ round about it:
+    It was a tame Heart, and a deare,
+        And neuer vs'd to roame;
+    But hauing got this Haunt, I feare
+        'Twill hardly stay at home.
+    For Gods sake, walking by the way,                                20
+        If you my Heart doe see,
+    Either impound it for a Stray,
+        Or send it backe to me.
+
+
+TO HIS COY LOVE
+
+A CANZONET
+
+    I pray thee leaue, loue me no more,
+      Call home the Heart you gaue me,
+    I but in vaine that Saint adore,
+      That can, but will not saue me:
+    These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;
+      Was euer man thus serued?
+    Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
+      For Pleasure to be sterued.
+
+    Shew me no more those Snowie Brests,
+      With Azure Riuerets branched,                                   10
+    Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
+      Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
+    O TANTALVS, thy Paines n'er tell,
+      By me thou art preuented;
+    'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,
+      But thus in Heauen tormented.
+
+    Clip me no more in those deare Armes,
+      Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;
+    O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,
+      And doe but more inthrall me.                                   20
+    But see, how patient I am growne,
+      In all this coyle about thee;
+    Come nice thing, let my Heart alone,
+      I cannot liue without thee.
+
+
+A HYMNE TO HIS LADIES BIRTH-PLACE
+
+                      Couentry, that do'st adorne
+                    The Countrey wherein I was borne,
+                    Yet therein lyes not thy prayse
+                    Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs with Bayes:
+_Couentry finely    'Tis not thy Wall, me to thee weds
+walled._            Thy Ports, nor thy proud Pyrameds,
+_The Shoulder-bone  Nor thy Trophies of the Bore,
+of a hare of        But that Shee which I adore,
+mighty bignesse._   Which scarce Goodnesse selfe can payre,
+                    First their breathing blest thy Ayre;             10
+                    IDEA, in which Name I hide
+                    Her, in my heart Deifi'd,
+                    For what good, Man's mind can see,
+                    Onely her IDEAS be;
+                    She, in whom the Vertues came
+                    In Womans shape, and tooke her Name,
+                    She so farre past Imitation,
+                    As but Nature our Creation
+                    Could not alter, she had aymed,
+                    More then Woman to haue framed:                   20
+                    She, whose truely written Story,
+                    To thy poore Name shall adde more glory,
+                    Then if it should haue beene thy Chance,
+                    T' haue bred our Kings that Conquer'd _France_.
+                    Had She beene borne the former Age,
+_Two famous         That house had beene a Pilgrimage,
+Pilgrimages, the    And reputed more Diuine,
+one in_ Norfolk,    Then _Walsingham_ or BECKETS Shrine.
+_the other in_        That Princesse, to whom thou do'st owe
+Kent.               Thy Freedome, whose Cleere blushing snow,         30
+Godiua, _Duke_      The enuious Sunne saw, when as she
+Leofricks _wife,    Naked rode to make Thee free,
+who obtained the    Was but her Type, as to foretell,
+Freedome of the     Thou should'st bring forth one, should excell
+city, of her        Her Bounty, by whom thou should'st haue
+husband, by riding  More Honour, then she Freedome gaue;
+thorow it naked._   And that great Queene, which but of late
+_Queene_            Rul'd this Land in Peace and State,
+Elizabeth.          Had not beene, but Heauen had sworne,
+                    A Maide should raigne, when she was borne.        40
+_A noted Streete      Of thy Streets, which thou hold'st best,
+in_ Couentry.       And most frequent of the rest,
+                    Happy _Mich-Parke_ eu'ry yeere,
+_His Mistresse      On the fourth of _August_ there,
+birth-day._         Let thy Maides from FLORA'S bowers,
+                    With their Choyce and daintiest flowers
+                    Decke Thee vp, and from their store,
+                    With braue Garlands crowne that dore.
+                    The old Man passing by that way,
+                    To his Sonne in time shall say,                   50
+                    There was that Lady borne, which long
+                    To after-Ages shall be sung;
+                    Who vnawares being passed by,
+                    Back to that House shall cast his Eye,
+                    Speaking my Verses as he goes,
+                    And with a Sigh shut eu'ry Close.
+                      Deare Citie, trauelling by thee,
+                    When thy rising Spyres I see,
+                    Destined her place of Birth;
+                    Yet me thinkes the very Earth                     60
+                    Hallowed is, so farre as I
+                    Can thee possibly descry:
+                    Then thou dwelling in this place,
+                    Hearing some rude Hinde disgrace
+                    Thy Citie with some scuruy thing,
+                    Which some Iester forth did bring,
+                    Speake these Lines where thou do'st come,
+                    And strike the Slaue for euer dumbe.
+
+
+TO THE CAMBRO-BRITANS and their Harpe, his Ballad of
+AGINCOVRT
+
+    Faire stood the Wind for _France_,
+    When we our Sayles aduance,
+    Nor now to proue our chance,
+        Longer will tarry;
+    But putting to the Mayne,
+    At _Kaux_, the Mouth of _Sene_,
+    With all his Martiall Trayne,
+        Landed King HARRY.
+
+    And taking many a Fort,
+    Furnish'd in Warlike sort,                                        10
+    Marcheth tow'rds _Agincourt_,
+        In happy howre;
+    Skirmishing day by day,
+    With those that stop'd his way,
+    Where the _French_ Gen'rall lay,
+        With all his Power.
+
+    Which in his Hight of Pride,
+    King HENRY to deride,
+    His Ransome to prouide
+        To the King sending.                                          20
+    Which he neglects the while,
+    As from a Nation vile,
+    Yet with an angry smile,
+        Their fall portending.
+
+    And turning to his Men,
+    Quoth our braue HENRY then,
+    Though they to one be ten,
+        Be not amazed.
+    Yet haue we well begunne,
+    Battels so brauely wonne,                                         30
+    Haue euer to the Sonne,
+        By Fame beene raysed.
+
+    And, for my Selfe (quoth he),
+    This my full rest shall be,
+    _England_ ne'r mourne for Me,
+        Nor more esteeme me.
+    Victor I will remaine,
+    Or on this Earth lie slaine,
+    Neuer shall Shee sustaine,
+        Losse to redeeme me.                                          40
+
+    _Poiters_ and _Cressy_ tell,
+    When most their Pride did swell,
+    Vnder our Swords they fell,
+        No lesse our skill is,
+    Than when our Grandsire Great,
+    Clayming the Regall Seate,
+    By many a Warlike feate,
+        Lop'd the _French_ Lillies.
+
+    The Duke of _Yorke_ so dread,
+    The eager Vaward led;                                             50
+    With the maine, HENRY sped,
+        Among'st his Hench-men.
+    EXCESTER had the Rere,
+    A Brauer man not there,
+    O Lord, how hot they were,
+        On the false _French-men_!
+
+    They now to fight are gone,
+    Armour on Armour shone,
+    Drumme now to Drumme did grone,
+        To heare, was wonder;                                         60
+    That with the Cryes they make,
+    The very Earth did shake,
+    Trumpet to Trumpet spake,
+        Thunder to Thunder.
+
+    Well it thine Age became,
+    O Noble ERPINGHAM,
+    Which didst the Signall ayme,
+        To our hid Forces;
+    When from a Medow by,
+    Like a Storme suddenly,                                           70
+    The _English_ Archery
+        Stuck the _French_ Horses,
+
+    With _Spanish_ Ewgh so strong,
+    Arrowes a Cloth-yard long,
+    That like to Serpents stung,
+        Piercing the Weather;
+    None from his fellow starts,
+    But playing Manly parts,
+    And like true _English_ hearts,
+        Stuck close together.                                         80
+
+    When downe their Bowes they threw,
+    And forth their Bilbowes drew,
+    And on the French they flew,
+        Not one was tardie;
+    Armes were from shoulders sent,
+    Scalpes to the Teeth were rent,
+    Downe the _French_ Pesants went,
+        Our Men were hardie.
+
+    This while our Noble King,
+    His broad Sword brandishing,                                      90
+    Downe the _French_ Hoast did ding,
+        As to o'r-whelme it;
+    And many a deepe Wound lent,
+    His Armes with Bloud besprent,
+    And many a cruell Dent
+        Bruised his Helmet.
+
+    GLOSTER, that Duke so good,
+    Next of the Royall Blood,
+    For famous _England_ stood,
+        With his braue Brother;                                      100
+    CLARENCE, in Steele so bright,
+    Though but a Maiden Knight,
+    Yet in that furious Fight,
+        Scarce such another,
+
+    WARWICK in Bloud did wade,
+    OXFORD the Foe inuade,
+    And cruell slaughter made,
+        Still as they ran vp;
+    SVFFOLKE his Axe did ply,
+    BEAVMONT and WILLOVGHBY                                          110
+    Bare them right doughtily,
+        FERRERS and FANHOPE.
+
+    Vpon Saint CRISPIN'S day
+    Fought was this Noble Fray,
+    Which Fame did not delay,
+        To _England_ to carry;
+    O, when shall _English_ Men
+    With such Acts fill a Pen,
+    Or _England_ breed againe,
+        Such a King HARRY?                                           120
+
+
+
+
+[from the Edition of 1606]
+
+
+_Ode 4_
+
+_To my worthy frend, Master John Sauage of the Inner Temple_
+
+    Vppon this sinfull earth
+    If man can happy be,
+    And higher then his birth,
+    (Frend) take him thus from me.
+
+    Whome promise not deceiues
+    That he the breach should rue,
+    Nor constant reason leaues
+    Opinion to pursue.
+
+    To rayse his mean estate
+    That sooths no wanton's sinne,                                    10
+    Doth that preferment hate
+    That virtue doth not winne.
+
+    Nor brauery doth admire,
+    Nor doth more loue professe
+    To that he doth desire,
+    Then that he doth possesse.
+
+    Loose humor nor to please,
+    That neither spares nor spends,
+    But by discretion weyes
+    What is to needfull ends.                                         20
+
+    To him deseruing not
+    Not yeelding, nor doth hould
+    What is not his, doing what
+    He ought not what he could.
+
+    Whome the base tyrants will
+    Soe much could neuer awe
+    As him for good or ill
+    From honesty to drawe.
+
+    Whose constancy doth rise
+    'Boue vndeserued spight                                           30
+    Whose valewr's to despise
+    That most doth him delight.
+
+    That earely leaue doth take
+    Of th' world though to his payne
+    For virtues onely sake
+    And not till need constrayne.
+
+    Noe man can be so free
+    Though in imperiall seate
+    Nor Eminent as he
+    That deemeth nothing greate.                                      40
+
+
+_Ode 8_
+
+    Singe wee the Rose
+    Then which no flower there growes
+      Is sweeter:
+    And aptly her compare
+    With what in that is rare
+      A parallel none meeter.
+
+    Or made poses,
+    Of this that incloses
+      Suche blisses,
+    That naturally flusheth                                           10
+    As she blusheth
+      When she is robd of kisses.
+
+    Or if strew'd
+    When with the morning dew'd
+      Or stilling,
+    Or howe to sense expos'd
+    All which in her inclos'd,
+      Ech place with sweetnes filling.
+
+    That most renown'd
+    By Nature richly crownd                                           20
+      With yellow,
+    Of that delitious layre
+    And as pure, her hayre
+      Vnto the same the fellowe,
+
+    Fearing of harme
+    Nature that flower doth arme
+      From danger,
+    The touch giues her offence
+    But with reuerence
+      Vnto her selfe a stranger.                                      30
+
+    That redde, or white,
+    Or mixt, the sence delyte
+      Behoulding,
+    In her complexion
+    All which perfection
+      Such harmony infouldinge.
+
+    That deuyded
+    Ere it was descided
+      Which most pure,
+    Began the greeuous war                                            40
+    Of _York_ and _Lancaster_,
+      That did many yeeres indure.
+
+    Conflicts as greate
+    As were in all that heate
+      I sustaine:
+    By her, as many harts
+    As men on either parts
+      That with her eies hath slaine.
+
+    The Primrose flower
+    The first of _Flora's_ bower                                      50
+      Is placed,
+    Soo is shee first as best
+    Though excellent the rest,
+      All gracing, by none graced.
+
+
+
+
+ELEGIES VPON SVNDRY OCCASIONS
+
+[from the Edition of 1627]
+
+
+Of his Ladies not Comming _to London_
+
+    That ten-yeares-trauell'd _Greeke_ return'd from Sea
+    Ne'r ioyd so much to see his _Ithaca_,
+    As I should you, who are alone to me,
+    More then wide _Greece_ could to that wanderer be.
+    The winter windes still Easterly doe keepe,
+    And with keene Frosts haue chained vp the deepe,
+    The Sunne's to vs a niggard of his Rayes,
+    But reuelleth with our _Antipodes_;
+    And seldome to vs when he shewes his head,
+    Muffled in vapours, he straight hies to bed.                      10
+    In those bleake mountaines can you liue where snowe
+    Maketh the vales vp to the hilles to growe;
+    Whereas mens breathes doe instantly congeale,
+    And attom'd mists turne instantly to hayle;
+    Belike you thinke, from this more temperate cost,
+    My sighes may haue the power to thawe the frost,
+    Which I from hence should swiftly send you thither,
+    Yet not so swift, as you come slowly hither.
+    How many a time, hath _Phebe_ from her wayne,
+    With _Phoebus_ fires fill'd vp her hornes againe;                 20
+    Shee through her Orbe, still on her course doth range,
+    But you keep yours still, nor for me will change.
+    The Sunne that mounted the sterne Lions back,
+    Shall with the Fishes shortly diue the Brack,
+    But still you keepe your station, which confines
+    You, nor regard him trauelling the signes.
+    Those ships which when you went, put out to Sea,
+    Both to our _Groenland_, and _Virginia_,
+    Are now return'd, and Custom'd haue their fraught,
+    Yet you arriue not, nor returne me ought.                         30
+      The Thames was not so frozen yet this yeare,
+    As is my bosome, with the chilly feare
+    Of your not comming, which on me doth light,
+    As on those Climes, where halfe the world is night.
+      Of euery tedious houre you haue made two,
+    All this long Winter here, by missing you:
+    Minutes are months, and when the houre is past,
+    A yeare is ended since the Clocke strooke last,
+    When your Remembrance puts me on the Racke,
+    And I should Swound to see an _Almanacke_,                        40
+    To reade what silent weekes away are slid,
+    Since the dire Fates you from my sight haue hid.
+      I hate him who the first Deuisor was
+    Of this same foolish thing, the Hower-glasse,
+    And of the Watch, whose dribbling sands and Wheele,
+    With their slow stroakes, make mee too much to feele
+    Your slackenesse hither, O how I doe ban,
+    Him that these Dialls against walles began,
+    Whose Snayly motion of the moouing hand,
+    (Although it goe) yet seeme to me to stand;                       50
+    As though at _Adam_ it had first set out
+    And had been stealing all this while about,
+    And when it backe to the first point should come,
+    It shall be then iust at the generall Doome.
+      The Seas into themselues retract their flowes.
+    The changing Winde from euery quarter blowes,
+    Declining Winter in the Spring doth call,
+    The Starrs rise to vs, as from vs they fall;
+    Those Birdes we see, that leaue vs in the Prime,
+    Againe in Autumne re-salute our Clime.                            60
+    Sure, either Nature you from kinde hath made,
+    Or you delight else to be Retrograde.
+      But I perceiue by your attractiue powers,
+    Like an Inchantresse you haue charm'd the bowers
+    Into short minutes, and haue drawne them back,
+    So that of vs at _London_, you doe lack
+    Almost a yeare, the Spring is scarce begonne
+    There where you liue, and Autumne almost done.
+    With vs more Eastward, surely you deuise,
+    By your strong Magicke, that the Sunne shall rise                 70
+    Where now it setts, and that in some few yeares
+    You'l alter quite the Motion of the Spheares.
+      Yes, and you meane, I shall complaine my loue
+    To grauell'd Walkes, or to a stupid Groue,
+    Now your companions; and that you the while
+    (As you are cruell) will sit by and smile,
+    To make me write to these, while Passers by,
+    Sleightly looke in your louely face, where I
+    See Beauties heauen, whilst silly blockheads, they
+    Like laden Asses, plod vpon their way,                            80
+    And wonder not, as you should point a Clowne
+    Vp to the _Guards_, or _Ariadnes_ Crowne;
+    Of Constellations, and his dulnesse tell.
+    Hee'd thinke your words were certainly a Spell;
+    Or him some piece from _Creet_, or _Marcus_ show,
+    In all his life which till that time ne'r saw
+    Painting: except in Alehouse or old Hall
+    Done by some Druzzler, of the Prodigall.
+      Nay doe, stay still, whilst time away shall steale
+    Your youth, and beautie, and your selfe conceale                  90
+    From me I pray you, you haue now inur'd
+    Me to your absence, and I haue endur'd
+    Your want this long, whilst I haue starued bine
+    For your short Letters, as you helde it sinne
+    To write to me, that to appease my woe,
+    I reade ore those, you writ a yeare agoe,
+    Which are to me, as though they had bin made,
+    Long time before the first _Olympiad_.
+      For thankes and curt'sies sell your presence then
+    To tatling Women, and to things like men,                        100
+    And be more foolish then the _Indians_ are
+    For Bells, for Kniues, for Glasses, and such ware,
+    That sell their Pearle and Gold, but here I stay,
+    So I would not haue you but come away.
+
+
+To Master GEORGE SANDYS
+
+_Treasurer for the English Colony in_ VIRGINIA
+
+      Friend, if you thinke my Papers may supplie
+    You, with some strange omitted Noueltie,
+    Which others Letters yet haue left vntould,
+    You take me off, before I can take hould
+    Of you at all; I put not thus to Sea,
+    For two monthes Voyage to _Virginia_,
+    With newes which now, a little something here,
+    But will be nothing ere it can come there.
+    I feare, as I doe Stabbing; this word, State,
+    I dare not speake of the _Palatinate_,                            10
+    Although some men make it their hourely theame,
+    And talke what's done in _Austria_, and in _Beame_,
+    I may not so; what _Spinola_ intends,
+    Nor with his _Dutch_, which way Prince _Maurice_ bends;
+    To other men, although these things be free,
+    Yet (GEORGE) they must be misteries to mee.
+      I scarce dare praise a vertuous friend that's dead,
+    Lest for my lines he should be censured;
+    It was my hap before all other men
+    To suffer shipwrack by my forward pen:                            20
+    When King IAMES entred; at which ioyfull time
+    I taught his title to this Ile in rime:
+    And to my part did all the Muses win,
+    With high-pitch _Paeans_ to applaud him in:
+    When cowardise had tyed vp euery tongue,
+    And all stood silent, yet for him I sung;
+    And when before by danger I was dar'd,
+    I kick'd her from me, nor a iot I spar'd.
+    Yet had not my cleere spirit in Fortunes scorne,
+    Me aboue earth and her afflictions borne;                         30
+    He next my God on whom I built my trust,
+    Had left me troden lower then the dust:
+    But let this passe; in the extreamest ill,
+    _Apollo's_ brood must be couragious still,
+    Let Pies, and Dawes, sit dumb before their death,
+    Onely the Swan sings at the parting breath.
+    And (worthy GEORGE) by industry and vse,
+    Let's see what lines _Virginia_ will produce;
+    Goe on with OVID, as you haue begunne,
+    With the first fiue Bookes; let your numbers run                  40
+    Glib as the former, so shall it liue long,
+    And doe much honour to the _English_ tongue:
+    Intice the Muses thither to repaire,
+    Intreat them gently, trayne them to that ayre,
+    For they from hence may thither hap to fly,
+    T'wards the sad time which but to fast doth hie,
+    For Poesie is follow'd with such spight,
+    By groueling drones that neuer raught her height,
+    That she must hence, she may no longer staye:
+    The driery fates prefixed haue the day,                           50
+    Of her departure, which is now come on,
+    And they command her straight wayes to be gon;
+    That bestiall heard so hotly her pursue,
+    And to her succour, there be very few,
+    Nay none at all, her wrongs that will redresse,
+    But she must wander in the wildernesse,
+    Like to the woman, which that holy IOHN
+    Beheld in _Pathmos_ in his vision.
+      As th' _English_ now, so did the stiff-neckt _Iewes_,
+    Their noble Prophets vtterly refuse,                              60
+    And of these men such poore opinions had;
+    They counted _Esay_ and _Ezechiel_ mad;
+    When _Ieremy_ his Lamentations writ,
+    They thought the Wizard quite out of his wit,
+    Such sots they were, as worthily to ly,
+    Lock't in the chaines of their captiuity,
+    Knowledge hath still her Eddy in her Flow,
+    So it hath beene, and it will still be so.
+      That famous _Greece_ where learning flourisht most,
+    Hath of her muses long since left to boast,                       70
+    Th' vnlettered _Turke_, and rude _Barbarian_ trades,
+    Where HOMER sang his lofty _Iliads_;
+    And this vaste volume of the world hath taught,
+    Much may to passe in little time be brought.
+      As if to _Symptoms_ we may credit giue,
+    This very time, wherein we two now liue,
+    Shall in the compasse, wound the Muses more,
+    Then all the old _English_ ignorance before;
+    Base Balatry is so belou'd and sought,
+    And those braue numbers are put by for naught,                    80
+    Which rarely read, were able to awake,
+    Bodyes from graues, and to the ground to shake
+    The wandring clouds, and to our men at armes,
+    'Gainst pikes and muskets were most powerfull charmes.
+    That, but I know, insuing ages shall,
+    Raise her againe, who now is in her fall;
+    And out of dust reduce our scattered rimes,
+    Th' reiected iewels of these slothfull times,
+    Who with the Muses would misspend an hower,
+    But let blind Gothish Barbarisme deuoure                          90
+    These feuerous Dogdays, blest by no record,
+    But to be euerlastingly abhord.
+      If you vouchsafe rescription, stuffe your quill
+    With naturall bountyes, and impart your skill,
+    In the description of the place, that I,
+    May become learned in the soyle thereby;
+    Of noble _Wyats_ health, and let me heare,
+    The Gouernour; and how our people there,
+    Increase and labour, what supplyes are sent,
+    Which I confesse shall giue me much content;                     100
+    But you may saue your labour if you please,
+    To write to me ought of your Sauages.
+    As sauage slaues be in great _Britaine_ here,
+    As any one that you can shew me there
+    And though for this, Ile say I doe not thirst,
+    Yet I should like it well to be the first,
+    Whose numbers hence into _Virginia_ flew,
+    So (noble _Sandis_) for this time adue.
+
+
+To my noble friend Master WILLIAM BROWNE, _of the euill time_
+
+              Deare friend, be silent and with patience see,
+            What this mad times Catastrophe will be;
+            The worlds first Wisemen certainly mistooke
+            Themselues, and spoke things quite beside the booke,
+            And that which they haue of said of God, vntrue,
+            Or else expect strange iudgement to insue.
+              This Isle is a meere Bedlam, and therein,
+            We all lye rauing, mad in euery sinne,
+            And him the wisest most men use to call,
+            Who doth (alone) the maddest thing of all;                10
+            He whom the master of all wisedome found,
+            For a marckt foole, and so did him propound,
+            The time we liue in, to that passe is brought,
+            That only he a Censor now is thought;
+            And that base villaine, (not an age yet gone,)
+            Which a good man would not haue look'd vpon;
+            Now like a God, with diuine worship follow'd,
+            And all his actions are accounted hollow'd.
+              This world of ours, thus runneth vpon wheeles,
+            Set on the head, bolt vpright with her heeles;            20
+            Which makes me thinke of what the _Ethnicks_ told
+            Th' opinion, the Pythagorists vphold,
+Wander      That the immortall soule doth transmigrate;
+From body   Then I suppose by the strong power of fate,
+to body.    And since that time now many a lingering yeare,
+            Through fools, and beasts, and lunatiques haue past,
+            Are heere imbodyed in this age at last,
+            And though so long we from that time be gone,
+            Yet taste we still of that confusion.
+            For certainely there's scarse one found that now,         30
+            Knowes what t' approoue, or what to disallow,
+            All arsey varsey, nothing is it's owne,
+            But to our prouerbe, all turnd vpside downe;
+            To doe in time, is to doe out of season,
+            And that speeds best, thats done the farth'st from reason,
+            Hee 's high'st that 's low'st, hee 's surest in that 's out,
+            He hits the next way that goes farth'st about,
+            He getteth vp vnlike to rise at all,
+            He slips to ground as much vnlike to fall;
+            Which doth inforce me partly to prefer,                   40
+_Zeno._     The opinion of that mad Philosopher,
+            Who taught, that those all-framing powers aboue,
+            (As 'tis suppos'd) made man not out of loue
+            To him at all, but only as a thing,
+            To make them sport with, which they vse to bring
+            As men doe munkeys, puppets, and such tooles
+            Of laughter: so men are but the Gods fooles.
+            Such are by titles lifted to the sky,
+            As wherefore no man knowes, God scarcely why;
+            The vertuous man depressed like a stone,                  50
+            For that dull Sot to raise himselfe vpon;
+            He who ne're thing yet worthy man durst doe,
+            Neuer durst looke vpon his countrey's foe,
+            Nor durst attempt that action which might get
+            Him fame with men: or higher might him set
+            Then the base begger (rightly if compar'd;)
+            This Drone yet neuer braue attempt that dar'd,
+            Yet dares be knighted, and from thence dares grow
+            To any title Empire can bestow;
+            For this beleeue, that Impudence is now                   60
+            A Cardinall vertue, and men it allow
+            Reuerence, nay more, men study and inuent
+            New wayes, nay, glory to be impudent.
+              Into the clouds the Deuill lately got,
+            And by the moisture doubting much the rot,
+            A medicine tooke to make him purge and cast;
+            Which in short time began to worke so fast,
+            That he fell too 't, and from his backeside flew,
+            A rout of rascall a rude ribauld crew
+            Of base Plebeians, which no sooner light,                 70
+            Vpon the earth, but with a suddaine flight,
+            They spread this Ile, and as _Deucalion_ once
+            Ouer his shoulder backe, by throwing stones
+            They became men, euen so these beasts became,
+            Owners of titles from an obscure name.
+              He that by riot, of a mighty rent,
+            Hath his late goodly Patrimony spent,
+            And into base and wilfull beggery run
+            This man as he some glorious acte had done,
+            With some great pension, or rich guift releeu'd,          80
+            When he that hath by industry atchieu'd
+            Some noble thing, contemned and disgrac'd,
+            In the forlorne hope of the times is plac'd,
+            As though that God had carelessely left all
+            That being hath on this terrestriall ball,
+            To fortunes guiding, nor would haue to doe
+            With man, nor aught that doth belong him to,
+            Or at the least God hauing giuen more
+            Power to the Deuill, then he did of yore,
+            Ouer this world: the feind as he doth hate                90
+            The vertuous man; maligning his estate,
+            All noble things, and would haue by his will,
+            To be damn'd with him, vsing all his skill,
+            By his blacke hellish ministers to vexe
+            All worthy men, and strangely to perplexe
+            Their constancie, there by them so to fright,
+            That they should yeeld them wholely to his might.
+            But of these things I vainely doe but tell,
+            Where hell is heauen, and heau'n is now turn'd hell;
+            Where that which lately blasphemy hath bin,              100
+            Now godlinesse, much lesse accounted sin;
+            And a long while I greatly meruail'd why
+            Buffoons and Bawdes should hourely multiply,
+            Till that of late I construed it that they
+            To present thrift had got the perfect way,
+            When I concluded by their odious crimes,
+            It was for vs no thriuing in these times.
+              As men oft laugh at little Babes, when they
+            Hap to behold some strange thing in their play,
+            To see them on the suddaine strucken sad,                110
+            As in their fancie some strange formes they had,
+            Which they by pointing with their fingers showe,
+            Angry at our capacities so slowe,
+            That by their countenance we no sooner learne
+            To see the wonder which they so discerne:
+            So the celestiall powers doe sit and smile
+            At innocent and vertuous men the while,
+            They stand amazed at the world ore-gone,
+            So farre beyond imagination,
+            With slauish basenesse, that the silent sit              120
+            Pointing like children in describing it.
+              Then noble friend the next way to controule
+            These worldly crosses, is to arme thy soule
+            With constant patience: and with thoughts as high
+            As these be lowe, and poore, winged to flye
+            To that exalted stand, whether yet they
+            Are got with paine, that sit out of the way
+            Of this ignoble age, which raiseth none
+            But such as thinke their black damnation
+            To be a trifle; such, so ill, that when                  130
+            They are aduanc'd, those few poore honest men
+            That yet are liuing, into search doe runne
+            To finde what mischiefe they haue lately done,
+            Which so preferres them; say thou he doth rise,
+            That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise.
+            And in this base world come what euer shall,
+            Hees worth lamenting, that for her doth fall.
+
+
+Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord SHEFFIELD, _drowned in
+HVMBER_
+
+      Light Sonnets hence, and to loose Louers flie,
+    And mournfull Maydens sing an Elegie
+    On those three SHEFFIELDS, ouer-whelm'd with waues,
+    Whose losse the teares of all the Muses craues;
+    A thing so full of pitty as this was,
+    Me thinkes for nothing should not slightly passe.
+    Treble this losse was, why should it not borrowe,
+    Through this Iles treble parts, a treble sorrowe:
+    But Fate did this, to let the world to knowe,
+    That sorrowes which from common causes growe,                     10
+    Are not worth mourning for, the losse to beare,
+    But of one onely sonne, 's not worth one teare.
+    Some tender-hearted man, as I, may spend
+    Some drops (perhaps) for a deceased friend.
+    Some men (perhaps) their Wifes late death may rue;
+    Or Wifes their Husbands, but such be but fewe.
+    Cares that haue vs'd the hearts of men to tuch
+    So oft, and deepely, will not now be such;
+    Who'll care for loss of maintenance, or place,
+    Fame, liberty, or of the Princes grace;                           20
+    Or sutes in law, by base corruption crost,
+    When he shall finde, that this which he hath lost,
+    Alas, is nothing to his, which did lose,
+    Three sonnes at once so excellent as those:
+    Nay, it is feard that this in time may breed
+    Hard hearts in men to their owne naturall seed;
+    That in respect of this great losse of theirs,
+    Men will scarce mourne the death of their owne heires.
+      Through all this Ile their losse so publique is,
+    That euery man doth take them to be his,                          30
+    And as a plague which had beginning there,
+    So catching is, and raigning euery where,
+    That those the farthest off as much doe rue them,
+    As those the most familiarly that knew them;
+    Children with this disaster are wext sage,
+    And like to men that strucken are in age;
+    Talke what it is, three children at one time
+    Thus to haue drown'd, and in their very prime;
+    Yea, and doe learne to act the same so well,
+    That then olde folke, they better can it tell.                    40
+    Inuention, oft that Passion vs'd to faine,
+    In sorrowes of themselves but slight, and meane,
+    To make them seeme great, here it shall not need,
+    For that this Subiect doth so farre exceed
+    All forc'd Expression, that what Poesie shall
+    Happily thinke to grace it selfe withall,
+    Falls so belowe it, that it rather borrowes
+    Grace from their griefe, then addeth to their sorrowes,
+    For sad mischance thus in the losse of three,
+    To shewe it selfe the vtmost it could bee:                        50
+    Exacting also by the selfe same lawe,
+    The vtmost teares that sorrowe had to drawe
+    All future times hath vtterly preuented
+    Of a more losse, or more to be lamented.
+      Whilst in faire youth they liuely flourish'd here,
+    To their kinde Parents they were onely deere:
+    But being dead, now euery one doth take
+    Them for their owne, and doe like sorrowe make:
+    As for their owne begot, as they pretended
+    Hope in the issue, which should haue discended                    60
+    From them againe; nor here doth end our sorrow,
+    But those of vs, that shall be borne to morrowe
+    Still shall lament them, and when time shall count,
+    To what vast number passed yeares shall mount,
+    They from their death shall duly reckon so,
+    As from the Deluge, former vs'd to doe.
+      O cruell _Humber_ guilty of their gore,
+    I now beleeue more then I did before
+    The _Brittish_ Story, whence thy name begun
+    Of Kingly _Humber_, an inuading _Hun_,                            70
+    By thee deuoured, for't is likely thou
+    With blood wert Christned, bloud-thirsty till now.
+    The _Ouse_, the _Done_, and thou farre clearer _Trent_,
+    To drowne the SHEFFIELDS as you gaue consent,
+    Shall curse the time, that ere you were infus'd,
+    Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd.
+    The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe,
+    And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro.
+    The very best part of whose soule, and bloud,
+    Compared with theirs, is viler then your mud.                     80
+    But wherefore paper, doe I idely spend,
+    On those deafe waters to so little end,
+    And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke,
+    In which, as in an euerlasting booke,
+    Our ends are written; O let times rehearse
+    Their fatall losse, in their sad Aniuerse.
+
+
+To the noble Lady, the Lady I.S. _of worldly crosses_
+
+      Madame, to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine,
+    Neither that I would haue you entertaine
+    The time in reading me, which you would spend
+    In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend,
+    I write not to you. Nay, and which is more,
+    My powerfull verses striue not to restore,
+    What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd,
+    To other ends my Elegie is squar'd.
+      Your beauty, sweetnesse, and your gracefull parts
+    That haue drawne many eyes, wonne many hearts,                    10
+    Of me get little, I am so much man,
+    That let them doe their vtmost that they can,
+    I will resist their forces: and they be
+    Though great to others, yet not so to me.
+    The first time I beheld you, I then sawe
+    That (in it selfe) which had the power to drawe
+    My stayd affection, and thought to allowe
+    You some deale of my heart; but you have now
+    Got farre into it, and you haue the skill
+    (For ought I see) to winne vpon me still.                         20
+      When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne
+    Your many crosses, as in Fortunes scorne,
+    And how neglectfull you have seem'd to be,
+    Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me,
+    I thought you stupid, nor that you had felt
+    Those griefes which (often) I haue scene to melt
+    Another woman into sighes and teares,
+    A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares,
+    But when in you I haue perceiu'd agen,
+    (Noted by me, more then by other men)                             30
+    How feeling and how sensible you are
+    Of your friends sorrowes, and with how much care
+    You seeke to cure them, then my selfe I blame,
+    That I your patience should so much misname,
+    Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne
+    Who feeles anothers griefe, can feele their owne.
+    When straight me thinkes, I heare your patience say,
+    Are you the man that studied _Seneca_:
+    _Plinies_ most learned letters; and must I
+    Read you a Lecture in Philosophie,                                40
+    T'auoid the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you;
+    I'le learne you more, Sir, then your bookes can teach you.
+      Of all your sex, yet neuer did I knowe,
+    Any that yet so actually could showe
+    Such rules for patience, such an easie way,
+    That who so sees it, shall be forc'd to say,
+    Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd,
+    Is of this Lady, in an instant learn'd.
+    It is heauens will that you should wronged be
+    By the malicious, that the world might see                        50
+    Your Doue-like meekenesse; for had the base scumme,
+    The spawne of Fiends, beene in your slander dumbe,
+    Your vertue then had perish'd, neuer priz'd,
+    For that the same you had not exercised;
+    And you had lost the Crowne you haue, and glory,
+    Nor had you beene the subiect of my Story.
+    Whilst they feele Hell, being damned in their hate,
+    Their thoughts like Deuils them excruciate,
+    Which by your noble suffrings doe torment
+    Them with new paines, and giues you this content                  60
+    To see your soule an Innocent, hath suffred,
+    And vp to heauen before your eyes be offred:
+    Your like we in a burning Glasse may see,
+    When the Sunnes rayes therein contracted be
+    Bent on some obiect, which is purely white,
+    We finde that colour doth dispierce the light,
+    And stands vntainted: but if it hath got
+    Some little sully; or the least small spot,
+    Then it soon fiers it; so you still remaine
+    Free, because in you they can finde no staine.                    70
+      God doth not loue them least, on whom he layes
+    The great'st afflictions; but that he will praise
+    Himselfe most in them, and will make them fit,
+    Near'st to himselfe who is the Lambe to sit:
+    For by that touch, like perfect gold he tries them,
+    Who are not his, vntill the world denies them.
+    And your example may work such effect,
+    That it may be the beginning of a Sect
+    Of patient women; and that many a day
+    All Husbands may for you their Founder pray.                      80
+      Nor is to me your Innocence the lesse,
+    In that I see you striue not to suppresse
+    Their barbarous malice; but your noble heart
+    Prepar'd to act so difficult a part,
+    With vnremoued constancie is still
+    The same it was, that of your proper ill,
+    The effect proceeds from your owne selfe the cause,
+    Like some iust Prince, who to establish lawes,
+    Suffers the breach at his best lou'd to strike,
+    To learne the vulgar to endure the like.                          90
+    You are a Martir thus, nor can you be
+    Lesse to the world so valued by me:
+    If as you haue begun, you still perseuer
+    Be euer good, that I may loue you euer.
+
+
+An Elegie vpon the death of the Lady PENELOPE CLIFTON
+
+      Must I needes write, who's hee that can refuse,
+    He wants a minde, for her that hath no Muse,
+    The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire,
+    Next powerfull, to those clouen tongues of fire.
+      Since I knew ought time neuer did allowe
+    Me stuffe fit for an Elegie, till now;
+    When _France_ and _England's_ HENRIES dy'd, my quill,
+    Why, I know not, but it that time lay still.
+    'Tis more then greatnesse that my spirit must raise,
+    To obserue custome I vse not to praise;                           10
+    Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended,
+    On any one from whom she was descended;
+    That for their fauour I this way should wooe,
+    As some poor wretched things (perhaps) may doe;
+    I gaine the end, whereat I onely ayme,
+    If by my freedome, I may giue her fame.
+      Walking then forth being newly vp from bed,
+    O Sir (quoth one) the Lady CLIFTON'S dead.
+    When, but that reason my sterne rage withstood,
+    My hand had sure beene guilty of his blood.                       20
+    If shee be so, must thy rude tongue confesse it
+    (Quoth I) and com'st so coldly to expresse it.
+    Thou shouldst haue giuen a shreeke, to make me feare thee;
+    That might haue slaine what euer had beene neere thee.
+    Thou shouldst haue com'n like Time with thy scalpe bare,
+    And in thy hands thou shouldst haue brought thy haire,
+    Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke,
+    As seene a spirit, or th'adst beene thunder-strooke,
+    And gazing on me so a little space,
+    Thou shouldst haue shot thine eye balls in my face,               30
+    Then falling at my feet, thou shouldst haue said,
+    O she is gone, and Nature with her dead.
+      With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past,
+    By that neere Groue, whereas both first and last,
+    I saw her, not three moneths before shee di'd.
+    When (though full Summer gan to vaile her pride,
+    And that I sawe men leade home ripened Corne,
+    Besides aduis'd me well,) I durst haue sworne
+    The lingring yeare, the Autumne had adiourn'd,
+    And the fresh Spring had beene againe return'd,                   40
+    Her delicacie, louelinesse, and grace,
+    With such a Summer brauery deckt the place:
+    But now alas, it lookt forlorne and dead;
+    And where she stood, the fading leaues were shed,
+    Presenting onely sorrowe to my sight,
+    O God (thought I) this is her Embleme right.
+    And sure I thinke it cannot but be thought,
+    That I to her by prouidence was brought.
+    For that the Fates fore-dooming, shee should die,
+    Shewed me this wondrous Master peece, that I                      50
+    Should sing her Funerall, that the world should know it,
+    That heauen did thinke her worthy of a Poet;
+    My hand is fatall, nor doth fortune doubt,
+    For what it writes, not fire shall ere race out.
+    A thousand silken Puppets should haue died,
+    And in their fulsome Coffins putrified,
+    Ere in my lines, you of their names should heare
+    To tell the world that such there euer were,
+    Whose memory shall from the earth decay,
+    Before those Rags be worne they gaue away:                        60
+    Had I her god-like features neuer seene,
+    Poore slight Report had tolde me she had beene
+    A hansome Lady, comely, very well,
+    And so might I haue died an Infidell,
+    As many doe which neuer did her see,
+    Or cannot credit, what she was, by mee.
+      Nature, her selfe, that before Art prefers
+    To goe beyond all our Cosmographers,
+    By Charts and Maps exactly that haue showne,
+    All of this earth that euer can be knowne,                        70
+    For that she would beyond them all descrie
+    What Art could not by any mortall eye;
+    A Map of heauen in her rare features drue,
+    And that she did so liuely and so true,
+    That any soule but seeing it might sweare
+    That all was perfect heauenly that was there.
+    If euer any Painter were so blest,
+    To drawe that face, which so much heau'n exprest,
+    If in his best of skill he did her right,
+    I wish it neuer may come in my sight,                             80
+    I greatly doubt my faith (weake man) lest I
+    Should to that face commit Idolatry.
+      Death might haue tyth'd her sex, but for this one,
+    Nay, haue ta'n halfe to haue let her alone;
+    Such as their wrinkled temples to supply,
+    Cyment them vp with sluttish _Mercury_,
+    Such as vndrest were able to affright,
+    A valiant man approching him by night;
+    Death might haue taken such, her end deferd,
+    Vntill the time she had beene climaterd;                          90
+    When she would haue bin at threescore yeares and three,
+    Such as our best at three and twenty be,
+    With enuie then, he might haue ouerthrowne her,
+    When age nor time had power to ceaze vpon her.
+      But when the vnpittying Fates her end decreed,
+    They to the same did instantly proceed,
+    For well they knew (if she had languish'd so)
+    As those which hence by naturall causes goe,
+    So many prayers, and teares for her had spoken,
+    As certainly their Iron lawes had broken,                        100
+    And had wak'd heau'n, who clearely would haue show'd
+    That change of Kingdomes to her death it ow'd;
+    And that the world still of her end might thinke,
+    It would haue let some Neighbouring mountaine sinke.
+    Or the vast Sea it in on vs to cast,
+    As _Seuerne_ did about some fiue yeares past:
+    Or some sterne Comet his curld top to reare,
+    Whose length should measure halfe our Hemisphere.
+    Holding this height, to say some will not sticke,
+    That now I raue, and am growne lunatique:                        110
+    You of what sexe so ere you be, you lye,
+    'Tis thou thy selfe is lunatique, not I.
+    I charge you in her name that now is gone,
+    That may coniure you, if you be not stone,
+    That you no harsh, nor shallow rimes decline,
+    Vpon that day wherein you shall read mine.
+    Such as indeed are falsely termed verse,
+    And will but sit like mothes vpon her herse;
+    Nor that no child, nor chambermaide, nor page,
+    Disturbe the Rome, the whilst my sacred rage,                    120
+    In reading is; but whilst you heare it read,
+    Suppose, before you, that you see her dead,
+    The walls about you hung with mournfull blacke,
+    And nothing of her funerall to lacke,
+    And when this period giues you leaue to pause,
+    Cast vp your eyes, and sigh for my applause.
+
+
+Vpon the noble Lady ASTONS _departure for Spaine_
+
+                I many a time haue greatly marueil'd, why
+              Men say, their friends depart when as they die,
+              How well that word, a dying, doth expresse,
+              I did not know (I freely must confesse,)
+              Till her departure: for whose missed sight,
+              I am enforc'd this Elegy to write:
+              But since resistlesse fate will haue it so,
+              That she from hence must to _Iberia_ goe,
+              And my weak wishes can her not detaine,
+              I will of heauen in policy complaine,                   10
+              That it so long her trauell should adiourne,
+              Hoping thereby to hasten her returne.
+The witches     Can those of _Norway_ for their wage procure,
+of the        By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure
+Northerly     Till from aboard the wished land men see,
+legions sell  And fetch the harbour, where they long to be,
+windes to     Can they by charmes doe this and cannot I
+passengers.   Who am the Priest of _Phoebus_, and so hie,
+              Sit in his fauour, winne the Poets god,
+              To send swift _Hermes_ with his snaky rod,              20
+              To _AEolus_ Caue, commanding him with care,
+              His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare,
+              And from that howre, wherein shee takes the seas,
+              Nature bring on the quiet _Halcion_ dayes,
+              And in that hower that bird begin her nest,
+              Nay at that very instant, that long rest
+              May seize on _Neptune_, who may still repose,
+              And let that bird nere till that hower disclose,
+              Wherein she landeth, and for all that space
+              Be not a wrinkle seene on _Thetis_ face,                30
+              Onely so much breath with a gentle gale,
+              As by the easy swelling of her saile,
+The nearest   May at *_Sebastians_ safely set her downe
+Harbour of    Where, with her goodnes she may blesse the towne.
+_Spaine_.       If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee
+              Some Pirate, and grimme _Neptune_ thou should'st be
+              His Executioner, or what is his worse,
+              The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse
+              Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake,
+              Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake,             40
+              Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let
+              Them be at ease in some safe harbour set,
+              Where with much profit they may vent their wealth
+              That they haue got by villany and stealth,
+              Rather great _Neptune_, then when thou dost raue,
+              Thou once shouldst wet her saile but with a waue.
+                Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare,
+              To seize the ship wherein she is to fare,
+              Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare,
+              And tell those Sea-thiefes, that once such they were    50
+              As they are now, till they assaid to rape
+An Ile for    Grape-crowned _Bacchus_ in a striplings shape,
+the abundance That came aboard them, and would faine haue saild,
+of wine       To vine-spread *_Naxus_ but that him they faild,
+supposed to   Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made,
+be the        And warnd them how they passengers inuade.
+habitation      Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow
+of _Bachus_.  Autumne is come, there be no flowers to grow,
+              Yea from that place respire, to which she goes,
+              And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes,      60
+              But _Boreas_ and yee Esterne windes arise,
+              To send her soon to _Spaine_, but be precise,
+              That in your aide you seeme not still so sterne,
+              As we a summer should no more discerne,
+              For till that here againe, I may her see,
+              It will be winter all the yeare with mee.
+_Castor_ and    Ye swanne-begotten lonely brother-stars,
+_Polox_ begot So oft auspicious to poore Mariners,
+by _Ioue_ on  Ye twin-bred lights of louely _Leda's_ brood,
+_Leda_ in the _Ioues_ egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood,          70
+forme of a    And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare
+Swanne. A     To be her warrant from all future feare.
+constellation And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good,
+ominous to    May neuer time by wormes, consume thy wood
+Mariners.     Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last,
+              Till they for reliques be in temples plac't;
+              Maist thou be ranged with that mighty Arke,
+              Wherein iust _Noah_ did all the world imbarque,
+              With that which after _Troyes_ so famous wracke,
+              From ten yeares trauell brought _Vlisses_ backe,        80
+              That Argo which to _Colchos_ went from _Greece_,
+              And in her botome brought the goulden fleece
+              Vnder braue _Iason_; or that same of _Drake_,
+              Wherein he did his famous voyage make
+              About the world; or _Candishes_ that went
+              As far as his, about the Continent.
+                And yee milde winds that now I doe implore,
+              Not once to raise the least sand on the shore,
+              Nor once on forfait of your selues respire:
+              When once the time is come of her retire,               90
+              If then it please you, but to doe your due,
+              What for these windes I did, Ile doe for you;
+              Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice,
+              My pen shall prooue you to haue dietyes,
+              Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flow,
+              And tell the storyes of your weale and woe,
+              Ile prooue what profit to the earth you bring,
+              And how t'is you that welcome in the spring;
+              Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show,
+              The time shall be kept holy, when you blow.            100
+              O blessed winds! your will that it may be,
+              To send health to her, and her home to me.
+
+
+To my most dearely-loued friend HENERY REYNOLDS Esquire, of
+_Poets & Poesie_
+
+      My dearely loued friend how oft haue we,
+    In winter evenings (meaning to be free,)
+    To some well-chosen place vs'd to retire;
+    And there with moderate meate, and wine, and fire,
+    Haue past the howres contentedly with chat,
+    Now talk of this, and then discours'd of that,
+    Spoke our owne verses 'twixt our selves, if not
+    Other mens lines, which we by chance had got,
+    Or some Stage pieces famous long before,
+    Of which your happy memory had store;                             10
+    And I remember you much pleased were,
+    Of those who liued long agoe to heare,
+    As well as of those, of these latter times,
+    Who have inricht our language with their rimes,
+    And in succession, how still vp they grew,
+    Which is the subiect, that I now pursue;
+    For from my cradle, (you must know that) I,
+    Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie,
+    And when that once _Pueriles_ I had read,
+    And newly had my _Cato_ construed,                                20
+    In my small selfe I greatly marueil'd then,
+    Amonst all other, what strange kinde of men
+    These Poets were; And pleased with the name,
+    To my milde Tutor merrily I came,
+    (For I was then a proper goodly page,
+    Much like a Pigmy, scarse ten yeares of age)
+    Clasping my slender armes about his thigh.
+    O my deare master! cannot you (quoth I)
+    Make me a Poet, doe it if you can,
+    And you shall see, Ile quickly bee a man,                         30
+    Who me thus answered smiling, boy quoth he,
+    If you'le not play the wag, but I may see
+    You ply your learning, I will shortly read
+    Some Poets to you; _Phoebus_ be my speed,
+    Too't hard went I, when shortly he began,
+    And first read to me honest _Mantuan_,
+    Then _Virgils Eglogues_, being entred thus,
+    Me thought I straight had mounted _Pegasus_,
+    And in his full Careere could make him stop,
+    And bound vpon _Parnassus'_ by-clift top.                         40
+    I scornd your ballet then though it were done
+    And had for Finis, _William Elderton_.
+    But soft, in sporting with this childish iest,
+    I from my subiect haue too long digrest,
+    Then to the matter that we tooke in hand,
+    _Ioue_ and _Apollo_ for the _Muses_ stand.
+      Then noble _Chaucer_, in those former times,
+    The first inrich'd our _English_ with his rimes,
+    And was the first of ours, that euer brake,
+    Into the _Muses_ treasure, and first spake                        50
+    In weighty numbers, deluing in the Mine
+    Of perfect knowledge, which he could refine,
+    And coyne for currant, and as much as then
+    The _English_ language could expresse to men,
+    He made it doe; and by his wondrous skill,
+    Gaue vs much light from his abundant quill.
+      And honest _Gower_, who in respect of him,
+    Had only sipt at _Aganippas_ brimme,
+    And though in yeares this last was him before,
+    Yet fell he far short of the others store.                        60
+      When after those, foure ages very neare,
+    They with the _Muses_ which conuersed, were
+    That Princely _Surrey_, early in the time
+    Of the Eight _Henry_, who was then the prime
+    Of _Englands_ noble youth; with him there came
+    _Wyat_; with reuerence whom we still doe name
+    Amongst our Poets, _Brian_ had a share
+    With the two former, which accompted are
+    That times best makers, and the authors were
+    Of those small poems, which the title beare,                      70
+    Of songs and sonnets, wherein oft they hit
+    On many dainty passages of wit.
+      _Gascoine_ and _Churchyard_ after them againe
+    In the beginning of _Eliza's_ raine,
+    Accoumpted were great Meterers many a day,
+    But not inspired with braue fier, had they
+    Liu'd but a little longer, they had seene,
+    Their works before them to have buried beene.
+      Graue morrall _Spencer_ after these came on
+    Then whom I am perswaded there was none                           80
+    Since the blind _Bard_ his _Iliads_ vp did make,
+    Fitter a taske like that to vndertake,
+    To set downe boldly, brauely to inuent,
+    In all high knowledge, surely excellent.
+      The noble _Sidney_ with this last arose,
+    That _Heroe_ for numbers, and for Prose.
+    That throughly pac'd our language as to show,
+    The plenteous _English_ hand in hand might goe
+    With _Greek_ or _Latine_, and did first reduce
+    Our tongue from _Lillies_ writing then in vse;                    90
+    Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of fishes, Flyes,
+    Playing with words, and idle Similies,
+    As th' _English_, Apes and very Zanies be,
+    Of euery thing, that they doe heare and see,
+    So imitating his ridiculous tricks,
+    They spake and writ, all like meere lunatiques.
+      Then _Warner_ though his lines were not so trim'd,
+    Nor yet his Poem so exactly lim'd
+    And neatly ioynted, but the Criticke may
+    Easily reprooue him, yet thus let me say;                        100
+    For my old friend, some passages there be
+    In him, which I protest haue taken me,
+    With almost wonder, so fine, cleere, and new
+    As yet they haue bin equalled by few.
+      Neat _Marlow_ bathed in the _Thespian_ springs
+    Had in him those braue translunary things,
+    That the first Poets had, his raptures were,
+    All ayre, and fire, which made his verses cleere,
+    For that fine madnes still he did retaine,
+    Which rightly should possesse a Poets braine.                    110
+      And surely _Nashe_, though he a Proser were
+    A branch of Lawrell yet deserues to beare,
+    Sharply _Satirick_ was he, and that way
+    He went, since that his being, to this day
+    Few haue attempted, and I surely thinke
+    Those wordes shall hardly be set downe with inke;
+    Shall scorch and blast, so as his could, where he,
+    Would inflict vengeance, and be it said of thee,
+    _Shakespeare_, thou hadst as smooth a Comicke vaine,
+    Fitting the socke, and in thy naturall braine,                   120
+    As strong conception, and as Cleere a rage,
+    As any one that trafiqu'd with the stage.
+      Amongst these _Samuel Daniel_, whom if I
+    May spake of, but to sensure doe denie,
+    Onely haue heard some wisemen him rehearse,
+    To be too much _Historian_ in verse;
+    His rimes were smooth, his meeters well did close
+    But yet his maner better fitted prose:
+    Next these, learn'd _Johnson_, in this List I bring,
+    Who had drunke deepe of the _Pierian_ spring,                    130
+    Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer,
+    And long was Lord here of the Theater,
+    Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke,
+    Whether in Poems rightly dramatique,
+    Strong _Seneca_ or _Plautus_, he or they,
+    Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away.
+    Others againe here liued in my dayes,
+    That haue of vs deserued no lesse praise
+    For their translations, then the daintiest wit
+    That on _Parnassus_ thinks, he highst doth sit,                  140
+    And for a chaire may mongst the Muses call,
+    As the most curious maker of them all;
+    As reuerent _Chapman_, who hath brought to vs,
+    _Musaeus_, _Homer_ and _Hesiodus_
+    Out of the Greeke; and by his skill hath reard
+    Them to that height, and to our tongue endear'd,
+    That were those Poets at this day aliue,
+    To see their bookes thus with vs to suruiue,
+    They would think, hauing neglected them so long,
+    They had bin written in the _English_ tongue.                    150
+      And _Siluester_ who from the _French_ more weake,
+    Made _Bartas_ of his sixe dayes labour speake
+    In naturall _English_, who, had he there stayd,
+    He had done well, and neuer had bewraid
+    His owne inuention, to haue bin so poore
+    Who still wrote lesse, in striuing to write more.
+      Then dainty _Sands_ that hath to _English_ done,
+    Smooth sliding _Ouid_, and hath made him run
+    With so much sweetnesse and vnusuall grace,
+    As though the neatnesse of the _English_ pace,                   160
+    Should tell the Ietting _Lattine_ that it came
+    But slowly after, as though stiff and lame.
+      So _Scotland_ sent vs hither, for our owne
+    That man, whose name I euer would haue knowne,
+    To stand by mine, that most ingenious knight,
+    My _Alexander_, to whom in his right,
+    I want extreamely, yet in speaking thus
+    I doe but shew the loue, that was twixt vs,
+    And not his numbers which were braue and hie,
+    So like his mind, was his clear Poesie,                          170
+    And my deare _Drummond_ to whom much I owe
+    For his much loue, and proud I was to know,
+    His poesie, for which two worthy men,
+    I _Menstry_ still shall loue, and _Hauthorne-den_.
+    Then the two _Beamounts_ and my _Browne_ arose,
+    My deare companions whom I freely chose
+    My bosome friends; and in their seuerall wayes,
+    Rightly borne Poets, and in these last dayes,
+    Men of much note, and no lesse nobler parts,
+    Such as haue freely tould to me their hearts,                    180
+    As I have mine to them; but if you shall
+    Say in your knowledge, that these be not all
+    Haue writ in numbers, be inform'd that I
+    Only my selfe, to these few men doe tye,
+    Whose works oft printed, set on euery post,
+    To publique censure subiect haue bin most;
+    For such whose poems, be they nere so rare,
+    In priuate chambers, that incloistered are,
+    And by transcription daintyly must goe;
+    As though the world vnworthy were to know,                       190
+    Their rich composures, let those men that keepe
+    These wonderous reliques in their iudgement deepe;
+    And cry them vp so, let such Peeces bee
+    Spoke of by those that shall come after me,
+    I passe not for them: nor doe meane to run,
+    In quest of these, that them applause haue wonne,
+    Vpon our Stages in these latter dayes,
+    That are so many, let them haue their bayes
+    That doe deserue it; let those wits that haunt
+    Those publique circuits, let them freely chaunt                  200
+    Their fine Composures, and their praise pursue
+    And so my deare friend, for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of his incomparable _friend Sir_ HENRY RAYNSFORD
+_of_ CLIFFORD
+
+      Could there be words found to expresse my losse,
+    There were some hope, that this my heauy crosse
+    Might be sustained, and that wretched I
+    Might once finde comfort: but to haue him die
+    Past all degrees that was so deare to me;
+    As but comparing him with others, hee
+    Was such a thing, as if some Power should say
+    I'le take Man on me, to shew men the way
+    What a friend should be. But words come so short
+    Of him, that when I thus would him report,                        10
+    I am vndone, and hauing nought to say,
+    Mad at my selfe, I throwe my penne away,
+    And beate my breast, that there should be a woe
+    So high, that words cannot attaine thereto.
+    T'is strange that I from my abundant breast,
+    Who others sorrowes haue so well exprest:
+    Yet I by this in little time am growne
+    So poore, that I want to expresse mine owne.
+    I thinke the Fates perceiuing me to beare
+    My worldly crosses without wit or feare:                          20
+    Nay, with what scorne I euer haue derided,
+    Those plagues that for me they haue oft prouided,
+    Drew them to counsaile; nay, conspired rather,
+    And in this businesse laid their heads together
+    To finde some one plague, that might me subuert,
+    And at an instant breake my stubborne heart;
+    They did indeede, and onely to this end
+    They tooke from me this more then man, or friend.
+      Hard-hearted Fates, your worst thus haue you done,
+    Then let vs see what lastly you haue wonne                        30
+    By this your rigour, in a course so strict,
+    Why see, I beare all that you can inflict:
+    And hee from heauen your poore reuenge to view;
+    Laments my losse of him, but laughes at you,
+    Whilst I against you execrations breath;
+    Thus are you scorn'd aboue, and curst beneath.
+      Me thinks that man (vnhappy though he be)
+    Is now thrice happy in respect of me,
+    Who hath no friend; for that in hauing none
+    He is not stirr'd as I am, to bemone                              40
+    My miserable losse, who but in vaine,
+    May euer looke to find the like againe.
+    This more then mine own selfe; that who had seene
+    His care of me where euer I had beene,
+    And had not knowne his actiue spirit before,
+    Vpon some braue thing working euermore:
+    He would haue sworne that to no other end
+    He had been borne: but onely for my friend.
+    I had been happy if nice Nature had
+    (Since now my lucke falls out to be so bad)                       50
+    Made me vnperfect, either of so soft
+    And yeelding temper, that lamenting oft,
+    I into teares my mournefull selfe might melt;
+    Or else so dull, my losse not to haue felt.
+    I haue by my too deare experience bought,
+    That fooles and mad men, whom I euer thought
+    The most vnhappy, are in deede not so:
+    And therefore I lesse pittie can bestowe
+    (Since that my sence, my sorrowe so can sound)
+    On those in Bedlam that are bound,                                60
+    And scarce feele scourging; and when as I meete
+    A foole by Children followed in the Streete,
+    Thinke I (poor wretch) thou from my griefe art free,
+    Nor couldst thou feele it, should it light on thee;
+    But that I am a _Christian_, and am taught
+    By him who with his precious bloud me bought,
+    Meekly like him my crosses to endure,
+    Else would they please me well, that for their cure,
+    When as they feele their conscience doth them brand,
+    Vpon themselues dare lay a violent hand;                          70
+    Not suffering Fortune with her murdering knife,
+    Stand like a Surgeon working on the life,
+    Deserting this part, that ioynt off to cut,
+    Shewing that Artire, ripping then that gut,
+    Whilst the dull beastly World with her squint eye,
+    Is to behold the strange Anatomie.
+      I am persuaded that those which we read
+    To be man-haters, were not so indeed,
+    The Athenian _Timon_, and beside him more
+    Of which the _Latines_, as the _Greekes_ haue store;              80
+    Nor not did they all humane manners hate,
+    Nor yet maligne mans dignity and state.
+    But finding our fraile life how euery day,
+    It like a bubble vanisheth away:
+    For this condition did mankinde detest,
+    Farre more incertaine then that of the beast.
+      Sure heauen doth hate this world and deadly too,
+    Else as it hath done it would neuer doe,
+    For if it did not, it would ne're permit
+    A man of so much vertue, knowledge, wit,                          90
+    Of naturall goodnesse, supernaturall grace,
+    Whose courses when considerately I trace
+    Into their ends, and diligently looke,
+    They serue me for Oeconomike booke.
+    By which this rough world I not onely stemme,
+    In goodnesse but grow learn'd by reading them.
+      O pardon me, it my much sorrow is,
+    Which makes me vse this long Parenthesis;
+    Had heauen this world not hated as I say,
+    In height of life it had not, tane away                          100
+    A spirit so braue, so actiue, and so free,
+    That such a one who would not wish to bee,
+    Rather then weare a Crowne, by Armes though got,
+    So fast a friend, so true a Patriot.
+    In things concerning both the worlds so wise,
+    Besides so liberall of his faculties,
+    That where he would his industrie bestowe,
+    He would haue done, e're one could think to doe.
+    No more talke of the working of the Starres,
+    For plenty, scarcenesse, or for peace, or Warres:                110
+    They are impostures, therefore get you hence
+    With all your Planets, and their influence.
+    No more doe I care into them to looke,
+    Then in some idle Chiromantick booke,
+    Shewing the line of life, and _Venus_ mount,
+    Nor yet no more would I of them account,
+    Then what that tells me, since what that so ere
+    Might promise man long life: of care and feare,
+    By nature freed, a conscience cleare, and quiet,
+    His health, his constitution, and his diet;                      120
+    Counting a hundred, fourscore at the least,
+    Propt vp by prayers, yet more to be encreast,
+    All these should faile, and in his fiftieth yeare
+    He should expire, henceforth let none be deare,
+    To me at all, lest for my haplesse sake,
+    Before their time heauen from the world them take,
+    And leaue me wretched to lament their ends
+    As I doe his, who was a thousand friends.
+
+
+Vpon the death of the Lady OLIVE STANHOPE
+
+    Canst thou depart and be forgotten so,
+    STANHOPE thou canst not, no deare STANHOPE, no:
+    But in despight of death the world shall see,
+    That Muse which so much graced was by thee
+    Can black Obliuion vtterly out-braue,
+    And set thee vp aboue thy silent Graue.
+    I meruail'd much the _Derbian_ Nimphes were dumbe,
+    Or of those Muses, what should be become,
+    That of all those, the mountaines there among,
+    Not one this while thy _Epicedium_sung;                           10
+    But so it is, when they of thee were reft,
+    They all those hills, and all those Riuers left,
+    And sullen growne, their former seates remoue,
+    Both from cleare _Darwin_, and from siluer _Doue_,
+    And for thy losse, they greeued are so sore,
+    That they haue vow'd they will come there no more;
+    But leaue thy losse to me, that I should rue thee,
+    Vnhappy man, and yet I neuer knew thee:
+    Me thou didst loue vnseene, so did I thee,
+    It was our spirits that lou'd then and not wee;                   20
+    Therefore without profanenesse I may call
+    The loue betwixt vs, loue spirituall:
+    But that which thou affectedst was so true,
+    As that thereby thee perfectly I knew;
+    And now that spirit, which thou so lou'dst, still mine,
+    Shall offer this a Sacrifice to thine,
+    And reare this Trophe, which for thee shall last,
+    When this most beastly Iron age is past;
+    I am perswaded, whilst we two haue slept,
+    Our soules haue met, and to each other wept,                      30
+    That destenie so strongly should forbid,
+    Our bodies to conuerse as oft they did:
+    For certainly refined spirits doe know,
+    As doe the Angels, and doe here belowe
+    Take the fruition of that endlesse blisse,
+    As those aboue doe, and what each one is.
+    They see diuinely, and as those there doe,
+    They know each others wills, so soules can too.
+      About that dismall time, thy spirit hence flew,
+    Mine much was troubled, but why, I not knew,                      40
+    In dull and sleepy sounds, it often left me,
+    As of it selfe it ment to haue bereft me,
+    I asked it what the cause was, of such woe,
+    Or what it might be, that might vexe it so,
+    But it was deafe, nor my demand would here,
+    But when that ill newes came, to touch mine eare,
+    I straightwayes found this watchfull sperit of mine,
+    Troubled had bin to take it leaue of thine,
+    For when fate found, what nature late had done,
+    How much from heauen, she for the earth had won                   50
+    By thy deare birth; said, that it could not be
+    In so yong yeares, what it perceiu'd in thee,
+    But nature sure, had fram'd thee long before;
+    And as Rich Misers of their mighty store,
+    Keepe the most precious longst, so from times past,
+    She onely had reserued thee till the last;
+    So did thy wisedome, not thy youth behold,
+    And tooke thee hence, in thinking thou wast old.
+    Thy shape and beauty often haue to me
+    Bin highly praysed, which I thought might be,                     60
+    Truely reported, for a spirit so braue,
+    Which heauen to thee so bountifully gaue;
+    Nature could not in recompence againe,
+    In some rich lodging but to entertaine.
+    Let not the world report then, that the Peake,
+    Is but a rude place only vast and bleake;
+    And nothing hath to boast of but her Lead,
+    When she can say that happily she bred
+    Thee, and when she shall of her wonders tell
+    Wherein she doth all other Tracts excell,                         70
+    Let her account thee greatst, and still to time
+    Of all the rest, accord thee for the prime.
+
+
+To Master WILLIAM IEFFREYS, Chaplaine to the Lord Ambassa_dour
+in Spaine_
+
+      My noble friend, you challenge me to write
+    To you in verse, and often you recite,
+    My promise to you, and to send you newes;
+    As 'tis a thing I very seldome vse,
+    And I must write of State, if to _Madrid_,
+    A thing our Proclamations here forbid,
+    And that word State such Latitude doth beare,
+    As it may make me very well to feare
+    To write, nay speake at all, these let you know
+    Your power on me, yet not that I will showe                       10
+    The loue I beare you, in that lofty height,
+    So cleere expression, or such words of weight,
+    As into _Spanish_ if they were translated,
+    Might make the Poets of that Realme amated;
+    Yet these my least were, but that you extort
+    These numbers from me, when I should report
+    In home-spunne prose, in good plaine honest words
+    The newes our wofull _England_ vs affords.
+      The Muses here sit sad, and mute the while
+    A sort of swine vnseasonably defile                               20
+    Those sacred springs, which from the by-clift hill
+    Dropt their pure _Nectar_ into euery quill;
+    In this with State, I hope I doe not deale,
+    This onely tends the Muses common-weale.
+      What canst thou hope, or looke for from his pen,
+    Who liues with beasts, though in the shapes of men,
+    And what a poore few are we honest still,
+    And dare to be so, when all the world is ill.
+      I finde this age of our markt with this Fate,
+    That honest men are still precipitate                             30
+    Vnder base villaines, which till th' earth can vent
+    This her last brood, and wholly hath them spent,
+    Shall be so, then in reuolution shall
+    Vertue againe arise by vices fall;
+    But that shall I not see, neither will I
+    Maintaine this, as one doth a Prophesie,
+    That our King _Iames_ to _Rome_ shall surely goe,
+    And from his chaire the _Pope_ shall ouerthrow.
+    But O this world is so giuen vp to hell,
+    That as the old Giants, which did once rebell,                    40
+    Against the Gods, so this now-liuing race
+    Dare sin, yet stand, and Ieere heauen in the face.
+      But soft my Muse, and make a little stay,
+    Surely thou art not rightly in thy way,
+    To my good _Ieffrayes_ was not I about
+    To write, and see, I suddainely am out,
+    This is pure _Satire_, that thou speak'st, and I
+    Was first in hand to write an Elegie.
+    To tell my countreys shame I not delight.
+    But doe bemoane 't I am no _Democrite_:                           50
+    O God, though Vertue mightily doe grieue
+    For all this world, yet will I not beleeue
+    But that shees faire and louely, and that she
+    So to the period of the world shall be;
+    Else had she beene forsaken (sure) of all,
+    For that so many sundry mischiefes fall
+    Vpon her dayly, and so many take
+    Armes vp against her, as it well might make
+    Her to forsake her nature, and behind,
+    To leaue no step for future time to find,                         60
+    As she had neuer beene, for he that now
+    Can doe her most disgrace, him they alow
+    The times chiefe Champion, and he is the man,
+    The prize, and Palme that absolutely wanne,
+    For where Kings Clossets her free seat hath bin
+    She neere the Lodge, not suffered is to Inne,
+    For ignorance against her stands in state,
+    Like some great porter at a Pallace gate;
+    So dull and barbarous lately are we growne,
+    And there are some this slauery that haue sowne,                  70
+    That for mans knowledge it enough doth make,
+    If he can learne, to read an Almanacke;
+    By whom that trash of _Amadis de Gaule_,
+    Is held an author most authenticall,
+    And things we haue like Noblemen that be
+    In little time, which I haue hope to see
+    Vpon their foot-clothes, as the streets they ride
+    To haue their hornebookes at their girdles ti'd.
+    But all their superfluity of spite
+    On vertues hand-maid Poesy doth light,                            80
+    And to extirpe her all their plots they lay,
+    But to her ruine they shall misse the way,
+    For his alone the Monuments of wit,
+    Aboue the rage of Tyrants that doe sit,
+    And from their strength, not one himselfe can saue,
+    But they shall tryumph o'r his hated graue.
+      In my conceipt, friend, thou didst neuer see
+    A righter Madman then thou hast of me,
+    For now as _Elegiack_ I bewaile
+    These poor base times; then suddainely I raile                    90
+    And am _Satirick_, not that I inforce
+    My selfe to be so, but euen as remorse,
+    Or hate, in the proud fulnesse of their hight
+    Master my fancy, iust so doe I write.
+      But gentle friend as soone shall I behold
+    That stone of which so many haue vs tould,
+    (Yet neuer any to this day could make)
+    The great _Elixar_ or to vndertake
+    The _Rose-crosse_ knowledge which is much like that
+    A Tarrying-iron for fooles to labour at,                         100
+    As euer after I may hope to see,
+    (A plague vpon this beastly world for me,)
+    Wit so respected as it was of yore;
+    And if hereafter any it restore,
+    It must be those that yet for many a yeare,
+    Shall be vnborne that must inhabit here,
+    And such in vertue as shall be asham'd
+    Almost to heare their ignorant Grandsires nam'd,
+    With whom so many noble spirits then liu'd,
+    That were by them of all reward depriu'd.                        110
+      My noble friend, I would I might haue quit
+    This age of these, and that I might haue writ,
+    Before all other, how much the braue pen,
+    Had here bin honoured of the _English_ men;
+    Goodnesse and knowledge, held by them in prise,
+    How hatefull to them Ignorance and vice;
+    But it falls out the contrary is true,
+    And so my _Ieffreyes_ for this time adue.
+
+
+Vpon the death of Mistris ELIANOR FALLOWFIELD
+
+      Accursed Death, what neede was there at all
+    Of thee, or who to councell thee did call;
+    The subiect whereupon these lines I spend
+    For thee was most vnfit, her timelesse end
+    Too soone thou wroughtst, too neere her thou didst stand;
+    Thou shouldst haue lent thy leane and meager hand
+    To those who oft the help thereof beseech,
+    And can be cured by no other Leech.
+      In this wide world how many thousands be,
+    That hauing past fourescore, doe call for thee.                   10
+    The wretched debtor in the Iayle that lies,
+    Yet cannot this his Creditor suffice
+    Doth woe thee oft with many a sigh and teare,
+    Yet thou art coy, and him thou wilt not heare.
+    The Captiue slaue that tuggeth at the Oares,
+    And vnderneath the Bulls tough sinewes rores,
+    Begs at thy hand, in lieu of all his paines,
+    That thou wouldst but release him of his chaines;
+    Yet thou a niggard listenest not thereto,
+    With one short gaspe which thou mightst easily do,                20
+    But thou couldst come to her ere there was neede,
+    And euen at once destroy both flower and seede.
+      But cruell Death if thou so barbarous be,
+    To those so goodly, and so young as shee;
+    That in their teeming thou wilt shew thy spight;
+    Either from marriage thou wilt Maides affright,
+    Or in their wedlock, Widowes liues to chuse
+    Their Husbands bed, and vtterly refuse,
+    Fearing conception; so shalt thou thereby
+    Extirpate mankinde by thy cruelty.                                30
+      If after direfull Tragedy thou thirst,
+    Extinguish _Himens_ Torches at the first;
+    Build Funerall pyles, and the sad pauement strewe,
+    With mournfull Cypresse, and the pale-leau'd Yewe.
+    Away with Roses, Myrtle, and with Bayes;
+    Ensignes of mirth, and iollity, as these;
+    Neuer at Nuptials vsed be againe,
+    But from the Church the new Bride entertaine
+    With weeping _Nenias_, euer and among,
+    As at departings be sad _Requiems_ song.                          40
+      _Lucina_ by th' olde Poets that wert sayd,
+    Women in Childe-birth euermore to ayde,
+    Because thine Altars, long haue layne neglected:
+    Nor as they should, thy holy fiers reflected
+    Vpon thy Temples, therefore thou doest flye,
+    And wilt not helpe them in necessitie.
+      Thinking vpon thee, I doe often muse,
+    Whether for thy deare sake I should accuse
+    Nature or Fortune, Fortune then I blame,
+    And doe impute it as her greatest shame,                          50
+    To hast thy timelesse end, and soone agen
+    I vexe at Nature, nay I curse her then,
+    That at the time of need she was no stronger,
+    That we by her might haue enioy'd thee longer.
+      But whilst of these I with my selfe debate,
+    I call to minde how flinty-hearted Fate
+    Seaseth the olde, the young, the faire, the foule,
+    No thing on earth can Destinie controule:
+    But yet that Fate which hath of life bereft thee,
+    Still to eternall memory hath left thee,                          60
+    Which thou enioy'st by the deserued breath,
+    That many a great one hath not after death.
+
+
+
+
+NIMPHIDIA
+
+
+THE COVRT OF FAYRIE
+
+    Olde CHAVCER doth of _Topas_ tell,
+    Mad RABLAIS of Pantagruell,
+    A latter third of _Dowsabell_,
+      With such poore trifles playing:
+    Others the like haue laboured at
+    Some of this thing, and some of that,
+    And many of they know not what,
+      But that they must be saying.
+
+    Another sort there bee, that will
+    Be talking of the Fayries still,                                  10
+    Nor neuer can they have their fill,
+      As they were wedded to them;
+    No Tales of them their thirst can slake,
+    So much delight therein they take,
+    And some strange thing they fame would make,
+      Knew they the way to doe them.
+
+    Then since no Muse hath bin so bold,
+    Or of the Later, or the ould,
+    Those Eluish secrets to vnfold,
+      Which lye from others reading,                                  20
+    My actiue Muse to light shall bring,
+    The court of that proud Fayry King,
+    And tell there, of the Reuelling,
+      _Ioue_ prosper my proceeding.
+
+    And thou NIMPHIDIA gentle F_ay_,
+    Which meeting me vpon the way,
+    These secrets didst to me bewray,
+      Which now I am in telling:
+    My pretty light fantastick mayde,
+    I here inuoke thee to my ayde,                                    30
+    That I may speake what thou hast sayd,
+      In numbers smoothly swelling.
+
+    This Pallace standeth in the Ayre,
+    By Nigromancie placed there,
+    That it no Tempests needs to feare,
+      Which way so ere it blow it.
+    And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone,
+    Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone,
+    And thence the _Fayrie_ can as soone
+      Passe to the earth below it.                                    40
+
+    The Walls of Spiders legs are made,
+    Well mortized and finely layd,
+    He was the master of his Trade
+      It curiously that builded:
+    The Windowes of the eyes of Cats,
+    And for the Roofe, instead of Slats,
+    Is couer'd with the skinns of Batts,
+      With Mooneshine that are guilded.
+
+    Hence _Oberon_ him sport to make,
+    (Their rest when weary mortalls take)                             50
+    And none but onely _Fayries_ wake,
+      Desendeth for his pleasure.
+    And _Mab_ his meerry Queene by night
+    Bestrids young Folks that lye vpright,
+    (In elder Times the _Mare_ that hight)
+      Which plagues them out of measure.
+
+    Hence Shaddowes, seeming Idle shapes,
+    Of little frisking Elues and Apes,
+    To Earth doe make their wanton skapes,
+      As hope of pastime hasts them:                                  60
+    Which maydes think on the Hearth they see,
+    When Fyers well nere consumed be,
+    Their daunsing Hayes by two and three,
+      Iust as their Fancy casts them.
+
+    These make our Girles their sluttery rue,
+    By pinching them both blacke and blew,
+    And put a penny in their shue,
+      The house for cleanely sweeping:
+    And in their courses make that Round,
+    In Meadowes, and in Marshes found,                                70
+    Of them so call'd the _Fayrie_ ground,
+      Of which they haue the keeping.
+
+    Thus when a Childe haps to be gott,
+    Which after prooues an Ideott,
+    When Folke perceiue it thriueth not,
+      The fault therein to smother:
+    Some silly doting brainlesse Calfe,
+    That vnderstands things by the halfe,
+    Say that the _Fayrie_ left this Aulfe,
+      And tooke away the other.                                       80
+
+    But listen and I shall you tell,
+    A chance in _Fayrie_ that befell,
+    Which certainly may please some well;
+      In Loue and Armes delighting:
+    Of _Oberon_ that Iealous grewe,
+    Of one of his owne _Fayrie_ crue,
+    Too well (he fear'd) his Queene that knew,
+      His loue but ill requiting.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ was this _Fayrie_ knight,
+    One wondrous gratious in the sight                                90
+    Of faire Queene _Mab_, which day and night,
+      He amorously obserued;
+    Which made king _Oberon_ suspect,
+    His Seruice tooke too good effect,
+    His saucinesse, and often checkt,
+      And could have wisht him starued.
+
+    _Pigwiggen_ gladly would commend,
+    Some token to queene _Mab_ to send,
+    If Sea, or Land, him ought could lend,
+      Were worthy of her wearing:                                    100
+    At length this Louer doth deuise,
+    A Bracelett made of Emmotts eyes,
+    A thing he thought that shee would prize,
+      No whitt her state impayring.
+
+    And to the Queene a Letter writes,
+    Which he most curiously endites,
+    Coniuring her by all the rites
+      Of loue, she would be pleased,
+    To meete him her true Seruant, where
+    They might without suspect or feare,                             110
+    Themselues to one another cleare,
+      And haue their poore hearts eased.
+
+    At mid-night the appointed hower,
+    And for the Queene a fitting bower,
+    (Quoth he) is that faire Cowslip flower,
+      On _Hipcut_ hill that groweth,
+    In all your Trayne there's not a _Fay_,
+    That euer went to gather May,
+    But she hath made it in her way,
+      The tallest there that groweth.                                120
+
+    When by _Tom Thum_ a Fayrie Page,
+    He sent it, and doth him engage,
+    By promise of a mighty wage,
+      It secretly to carrie:
+    Which done, the Queene her maydes doth call,
+    And bids them to be ready all,
+    She would goe see her Summer Hall,
+      She could no longer tarrie.
+
+    Her Chariot ready straight is made,
+    Each thing therein is fitting layde,                             130
+    That she by nothing might be stayde,
+      For naught must be her letting,
+    Foure nimble Gnats the Horses were,
+    Their Harnasses of Gossamere,
+    Flye Cranion her Chariottere,
+      Vpon the Coach-box getting.
+
+    Her Chariot of a Snayles fine shell,
+    Which for the colours did excell:
+    The faire Queene _Mab_, becomming well,
+      So liuely was the limming:                                     140
+    The seate the soft wooll of the Bee;
+    The couer, (gallantly to see)
+    The wing of a pyde Butterflee,
+      I trowe t'was simple trimming.
+
+    The wheeles compos'd of Crickets bones,
+    And daintily made for the nonce,
+    For feare of ratling on the stones,
+      With Thistle-downe they shod it;
+    For all her Maydens much did feare,
+    If _Oberon_ had chanc'd to heare,                                150
+    That _Mab_ his Queene should haue bin there,
+      He would not haue aboad it.
+
+    She mounts her Chariot with a trice,
+    Nor would she stay for no advice,
+    Vntill her Maydes that were so nice,
+      To wayte on her were fitted,
+    But ranne her selfe away alone;
+    Which when they heard there was not one,
+    But hasted after to be gone,
+      As she had beene diswitted.                                    160
+
+    _Hop_, and _Mop_, and _Drop_ so cleare,
+    _Pip_, and _Trip_, and _Skip_ that were,
+    To _Mab_ their Soueraigne euer deare:
+      Her speciall Maydes of Honour;
+    _Fib_, and _Tib_, and _Pinck_, and _Pin_,
+    _Tick_, and _Quick_, and _Iill_, and _Iin_,
+    _Tit_, and _Nit_, and _Wap_, and _Win_,
+      The Trayne that wayte vpon her.
+
+    Vpon a Grashopper they got,
+    And what with Amble, and with Trot,                              170
+    For hedge nor ditch they spared not,
+      But after her they hie them.
+    A Cobweb ouer them they throw,
+    To shield the winde if it should blowe,
+    Themselues they wisely could bestowe,
+      Lest any should espie them.
+
+    But let vs leaue Queene _Mab_ a while,
+    Through many a gate, o'r many a stile,
+    That now had gotten by this wile,
+      Her deare _Pigwiggin_ kissing,                                 180
+    And tell how _Oberon_ doth fare,
+    Who grew as mad as any Hare,
+    When he had sought each place with care,
+      And found his Queene was missing.
+
+    By grisly _Pluto_ he doth sweare,
+    He rent his cloths, and tore his haire,
+    And as he runneth, here and there,
+      An Acorne cup he greeteth;
+    Which soone he taketh by the stalke
+    About his head he lets it walke,                                 190
+    Nor doth he any creature balke,
+      But lays on all he meeteth.
+
+    The _Thuskan_ Poet doth aduance,
+    The franticke _Paladine_ of France,
+    And those more ancient doe inhaunce,
+      _Alcides_ in his fury.
+    And others _Aiax Telamon_,
+    But to this time there hath bin non,
+    So Bedlam as our _Oberon_,
+      Of which I dare assure you.                                    200
+
+    And first encountring with a waspe,
+    He in his armes the Fly doth claspe
+    As though his breath he forth would graspe,
+      Him for Pigwiggen taking:
+    Where is my wife thou Rogue, quoth he,
+    _Pigwiggen_, she is come to thee,
+    Restore her, or thou dy'st by me,
+      Whereat the poore waspe quaking,
+
+    Cryes, _Oberon_, great _Fayrie_ King,
+    Content thee I am no such thing,                                 210
+    I am a Waspe behold my sting,
+      At which the _Fayrie_ started:
+    When soone away the Waspe doth goe,
+    Poore wretch was neuer frighted so,
+    He thought his wings were much to slow,
+      O'rioyd, they so were parted.
+
+    He next vpon a Glow-worme light,
+    (You must suppose it now was night),
+    Which for her hinder part was bright,
+      He tooke to be a Deuill.                                       220
+    And furiously doth her assaile
+    For carrying fier in her taile
+    He thrasht her rough coat with his flayle,
+      The mad King fear'd no euill.
+
+    O quoth the _Gloworme_ hold thy hand,
+    Thou puisant King of _Fayrie_ land,
+    Thy mighty stroaks who may withstand,
+      Hould, or of life despaire I:
+    Together then her selfe doth roule,
+    And tumbling downe into a hole,                                  230
+    She seem'd as black as any Cole,
+      Which vext away the _Fayrie_.
+
+    From thence he ran into a Hiue,
+    Amongst the Bees he letteth driue
+    And downe their Coombes begins to riue,
+      All likely to haue spoyled:
+    Which with their Waxe his face besmeard,
+    And with their Honey daub'd his Beard
+    It would haue made a man afeard,
+      To see how he was moyled.                                      240
+
+    A new Aduenture him betides,
+    He mett an Ant, which he bestrides,
+    And post thereon away he rides,
+      Which with his haste doth stumble;
+    And came full ouer on her snowte,
+    Her heels so threw the dirt about,
+    For she by no meanes could get out,
+      But ouer him doth tumble.
+
+    And being in this piteous case,
+    And all be-slurried head and face,                               250
+    On runs he in this Wild-goose chase
+      As here, and there, he rambles
+    Halfe blinde, against a molehill hit,
+    And for a Mountaine taking it,
+    For all he was out of his wit,
+      Yet to the top he scrambles.
+
+    And being gotten to the top,
+    Yet there himselfe he could not stop,
+    But downe on th' other side doth chop,
+      And to the foot came rumbling:                                 260
+    So that the Grubs therein that bred,
+    Hearing such turmoyle ouer head,
+    Thought surely they had all bin dead,
+      So fearefull was the Iumbling.
+
+    And falling downe into a Lake,
+    Which him vp to the neck doth take,
+    His fury somewhat it doth slake,
+      He calleth for a Ferry;
+    Where you may some recouery note,
+    What was his Club he made his Boate,                             270
+    And in his Oaken Cup doth float,
+      As safe as in a Wherry.
+
+    Men talke of the Aduentures strange,
+    Of _Don Quishott_, and of their change
+    Through which he Armed oft did range,
+      Of _Sancha Panchas_ trauell:
+    But should a man tell euery thing,
+    Done by this franticke _Fayrie_ king.
+    And them in lofty numbers sing
+      It well his wits might grauell.                                280
+
+    Scarse set on shore, but therewithall,
+    He meeteth _Pucke_, which most men call
+    _Hobgoblin_, and on him doth fall,
+      With words from frenzy spoken;
+    Hoh, hoh, quoth _Hob_, God saue thy grace,
+    Who drest thee in this pitteous case,
+    He thus that spoild my soueraignes face,
+      I would his necke were broken.
+
+    This _Puck_ seemes but a dreaming dolt,
+    Still walking like a ragged Colt,                                290
+    And oft out of a Bush doth bolt,
+      Of purpose to deceiue vs.
+    And leading vs makes vs to stray,
+    Long Winters nights out of the way,
+    And when we stick in mire and clay,
+      _Hob_ doth with laughter leaue vs.
+
+    Deare _Puck_ (quoth he) my wife is gone
+    As ere thou lou'st King _Oberon_,
+    Let euery thing but this alone
+      With vengeance, and pursue her;                                300
+    Bring her to me aliue or dead,
+    Or that vilde thief, _Pigwiggins_ head,
+    That villaine hath defil'd my bed
+      He to this folly drew her.
+
+    Quoth _Puck_, My Liege Ile neuer lin,
+    But I will thorough thicke and thinne,
+    Vntill at length I bring her in,
+      My dearest Lord nere doubt it:
+    Thorough Brake, thorough Brier,
+    Thorough Muck, thorough Mier,                                    310
+    Thorough Water, thorough Fier,
+      And thus goes _Puck_ about it.
+
+    This thing Nimphidia ouer hard
+    That on this mad King had a guard
+    Not doubting of a great reward,
+      For first this businesse broching;
+    And through the ayre away doth goe
+    Swift as an Arrow from the Bowe,
+    To let her Soueraigne _Mab_ to know,
+      What perill was approaching.                                   320
+
+    The Queene bound with Loues powerfulst charme
+    Sate with _Pigwiggen_ arme in arme,
+    Her Merry Maydes that thought no harme,
+      About the roome were skipping:
+    A Humble-Bee their Minstrell, playde
+    Vpon his Hoboy; eu'ry Mayde
+    Fit for this Reuells was arayde,
+      The Hornepype neatly tripping.
+
+    In comes _Nimphidia_, and doth crie,
+    My Soueraigne for your safety flie,                              330
+    For there is danger but too nie,
+      I posted to forewarne you:
+    The King hath sent _Hobgoblin_ out,
+    To seeke you all the Fields about,
+    And of your safety you may doubt,
+      If he but once discerne you.
+
+    When like an vprore in a Towne,
+    Before them euery thing went downe,
+    Some tore a Ruffe, and some a Gowne,
+      Gainst one another iustling:                                   340
+    They flewe about like Chaffe i' th winde,
+    For hast some left their Maskes behinde;
+    Some could not stay their Gloues to finde,
+      There neuer was such bustling.
+
+    Forth ranne they by a secret way,
+    Into a brake that neere them lay;
+    Yet much they doubted there to stay,
+      Lest _Hob_ should hap to find them:
+    He had a sharpe and piercing sight,
+    All one to him the day and night,                                350
+    And therefore were resolu'd by flight,
+      To leave this place behind them.
+
+    At length one chanc'd to find a Nut,
+    In th' end of which a hole was cut,
+    Which lay vpon a Hazell roote,
+      There scatt'red by a Squirill:
+    Which out the kernell gotten had;
+    When quoth this _Fay_ deare Queene be glad,
+    Let _Oberon_ be ne'r so mad,
+      Ile set you safe from perill.                                  360
+
+    Come all into this Nut (quoth she)
+    Come closely in be rul'd by me,
+    Each one may here a chuser be,
+      For roome yee need not wrastle:
+    Nor neede yee be together heapt;
+    So one by one therein they crept,
+    And lying downe they soundly slept,
+      And safe as in a Castle.
+
+    _Nimphidia_ that this while doth watch,
+    Perceiu'd if _Puck_ the Queene should catch                      370
+    That he should be her ouer-match,
+      Of which she well bethought her;
+    Found it must be some powerfull Charme,
+    The Queene against him that must arme,
+    Or surely he would doe her harme,
+      For throughly he had sought her.
+
+    And listning if she ought could heare,
+    That her might hinder, or might feare:
+    But finding still the coast was cleare,
+      Nor creature had discride her;                                 380
+    Each circumstance and hauing scand,
+    She came thereby to vnderstand,
+    _Puck_ would be with them out of hand
+      When to her Charmes she hide her:
+
+    And first her Ferne seede doth bestowe,
+    The kernell of the Missletowe:
+    And here and there as _Puck_ should goe,
+      With terrour to affright him:
+    She Night-shade strawes to work him ill,
+    Therewith her Veruayne and her Dill,                             390
+    That hindreth Witches of their will,
+      Of purpose to dispight him.
+
+    Then sprinkles she the iuice of Rue,
+    That groweth vnderneath the Yeu:
+    With nine drops of the midnight dewe,
+      From Lunarie distilling:
+    The Molewarps braine mixt therewithall;
+    And with the same the Pismyres gall,
+    For she in nothing short would fall;
+      The _Fayrie_ was so willing.                                   400
+
+    Then thrice vnder a Bryer doth creepe,
+    Which at both ends was rooted deepe,
+    And ouer it three times shee leepe;
+      Her Magicke much auayling:
+    Then on _Proserpyna_ doth call,
+    And so vpon her spell doth fall,
+    Which here to you repeate I shall,
+      Not in one tittle fayling.
+
+    By the croking of the Frogge;
+    By the howling of the Dogge;                                     410
+    By the crying of the Hogge,
+      Against the storme arising;
+    By the Euening Curphewe bell;
+    By the dolefull dying knell,
+    O let this my direfull Spell,
+      _Hob_, hinder thy surprising.
+
+    By the Mandrakes dreadfull groanes;
+    By the Lubricans sad moans;
+    By the noyse of dead mens bones,
+      In Charnell houses ratling:                                    420
+    By the hissing of the Snake,
+    The rustling of the fire-Drake,
+    I charge thee thou this place forsake,
+      Nor of Queene _Mab_ be pratling.
+
+    By the Whirlwindes hollow sound,
+    By the Thunders dreadfull stound,
+    Yells of Spirits vnder ground,
+      I chardge thee not to feare vs:
+    By the Shreech-owles dismall note,
+    By the Blacke Night-Rauens throate,                              430
+    I charge thee _Hob_ to teare thy Coate
+      With thornes if thou come neere vs,
+
+    Her Spell thus spoke she stept aside,
+    And in a Chincke her selfe doth hide,
+    To see there of what would betyde,
+      For shee doth onely minde him:
+    When presently shee _Puck_ espies,
+    And well she markt his gloating eyes,
+    How vnder euery leafe he spies,
+      In seeking still to finde them.                                440
+
+    But once the Circle got within,
+    The Charmes to worke doe straight begin,
+    And he was caught as in a Gin;
+      For as he thus was busie,
+    A paine he in his Head-peece feeles,
+    Against a stubbed Tree he reeles,
+    And vp went poore _Hobgoblins_ heeles,
+      Alas his braine was dizzie.
+
+    At length vpon his feete he gets,
+    _Hobgoblin_ fumes, _Hobgoblin_ frets,                            450
+    And as againe he forward sets,
+      And through the Bushes scrambles;
+    A Stump doth trip him in his pace,
+    Down comes poore _Hob_ vpon his face,
+    And lamentably tore his case,
+      Amongst the Bryers and Brambles.
+
+    A plague vpon Queene _Mab_, quoth hee,
+    And all her Maydes where ere they be,
+    I thinke the Deuill guided me,
+      To seeke her so prouoked.                                      460
+    Where stumbling at a piece of Wood,
+    He fell into a dich of mudd,
+    Where to the very Chin he stood,
+      In danger to be choked.
+
+    Now worse than e're he was before:
+    Poore _Puck_ doth yell, poore _Puck_ doth rore;
+    That wak'd Queene _Mab_ who doubted sore
+      Some Treason had been wrought her:
+    Vntill _Nimphidia_ told the Queene
+    What she had done, what she had seene,                           470
+    Who then had well-neere crack'd her spleene
+      With very extreame laughter.
+
+    But leaue we _Hob_ to clamber out:
+    Queene _Mab_ and all her _Fayrie_ rout,
+    And come againe to haue about
+      With _Oberon_ yet madding:
+    And with _Pigwiggen_ now distrought,
+    Who much was troubled in his thought,
+    That he so long the Queene had sought,
+      And through the Fields was gadding.                            480
+
+    And as he runnes he still doth crie,
+    King _Oberon_ I thee defie,
+    And dare thee here in Armes to trie,
+      For my deare Ladies honour:
+    For that she is a Queene right good,
+    In whose defence Ile shed my blood,
+    And that thou in this iealous mood
+      Hast lay'd this slander on her.
+
+    And quickly Armes him for the Field,
+    A little Cockle-shell his Shield,                                490
+    Which he could very brauely wield:
+      Yet could it not be pierced:
+    His Speare a Bent both stiffe and strong,
+    And well-neere of two Inches long;
+    The Pyle was of a Horse-flyes tongue,
+      Whose sharpnesse nought reuersed.
+
+    And puts him on a coate of Male,
+    Which was of a Fishes scale,
+    That when his Foe should him assaile,
+      No poynt should be preuayling:                                 500
+    His Rapier was a Hornets sting,
+    It was a very dangerous thing:
+    For if he chanc'd to hurt the King,
+      It would be long in healing.
+
+    His Helmet was a Bettles head,
+    Most horrible and full of dread,
+    That able was to strike one dead,
+      Yet did it well become him:
+    And for a plume, a horses hayre,
+    Which being tossed with the ayre,                                510
+    Had force to strike his Foe with feare,
+      And turne his weapon from him.
+
+    Himselfe he on an Earewig set,
+    Yet scarce he on his back could get,
+    So oft and high he did coruet,
+      Ere he himselfe could settle:
+    He made him turne, and stop, and bound,
+    To gallop, and to trot the Round,
+    He scarce could stand on any ground,
+      He was so full of mettle.                                      520
+
+    When soone he met with _Tomalin_,
+    One that a valiant Knight had bin,
+    And to King _Oberon_ of kin;
+      Quoth he thou manly _Fayrie_:
+    Tell _Oberon_ I come prepar'd,
+    Then bid him stand vpon his Guard;
+    This hand his basenesse shall reward,
+      Let him be ne'r so wary.
+
+    Say to him thus, that I defie,
+    His slanders, and his infamie,                                   530
+    And as a mortall enemie,
+      Doe publickly proclaime him:
+    Withall, that if I had mine owne,
+    He should not weare the _Fayrie_ Crowne,
+    But with a vengeance should come downe:
+      Nor we a King should name him.
+
+    This _Tomalin_ could not abide,
+    To heare his Soueraigne vilefide:
+    But to the _Fayrie_ Court him hide;
+      Full furiously he posted,                                      540
+    With eu'ry thing _Pigwiggen_ sayd:
+    How title to the Crowne he layd,
+    And in what Armes he was aray'd,
+      As how himselfe he boasted.
+
+    Twixt head and foot, from point to point,
+    He told th'arming of each ioint,
+    In every piece, how neate, and quaint,
+      For _Tomalin_ could doe it:
+    How fayre he sat, how sure he rid,
+    As of the courser he bestrid,                                    550
+    How Mannag'd, and how well he did;
+      The King which listened to it,
+
+    Quoth he, goe _Tomalin_ with speede,
+    Prouide me Armes, prouide my Steed,
+    And euery thing that I shall neede,
+      By thee I will be guided;
+    To strait account, call thou thy witt,
+    See there be wanting not a whitt,
+    In euery thing see thou me fitt,
+      Just as my foes prouided.                                      560
+
+    Soone flewe this newes through _Fayrie_ land
+    Which gaue Queene _Mab_ to vnderstand,
+    The combate that was then in hand,
+      Betwixt those men so mighty:
+    Which greatly she began to rew,
+    Perceuing that all _Fayrie_ knew,
+    The first occasion from her grew,
+      Of these affaires so weighty.
+
+    Wherefore attended with her maides,
+    Through fogs, and mists, and dampes she wades,                   570
+    To _Proserpine_ the Queene of shades
+      To treat, that it would please her,
+    The cause into her hands to take,
+    For ancient loue and friendships sake,
+    And soone therof an end to make,
+      Which of much care would ease her.
+
+    A While, there let we _Mab_ alone,
+    And come we to King _Oberon_,
+    Who arm'd to meete his foe is gone,
+      For Proud _Pigwiggen_ crying:                                  580
+    Who sought the _Fayrie_ King as fast,
+    And had so well his iourneyes cast,
+    That he arriued at the last,
+      His puisant foe espying:
+
+    Stout _Tomalin_ came with the King,
+    _Tom Thum_ doth on _Pigwiggen_ bring,
+    That perfect were in euery thing,
+      To single fights belonging:
+    And therefore they themselues ingage,
+    To see them exercise their rage,                                 590
+    With faire and comely equipage,
+      Not one the other wronging.
+
+    So like in armes, these champions were,
+    As they had bin, a very paire,
+    So that a man would almost sweare,
+      That either, had bin either;
+    Their furious steedes began to naye
+    That they were heard a mighty way,
+    Their staues vpon their rests they lay;
+      Yet e'r they flew together,                                    600
+
+    Their Seconds minister an oath,
+    Which was indifferent to them both,
+    That on their Knightly faith, and troth,
+      No magicke them supplyed;
+    And sought them that they had no charmes,
+    Wherewith to worke each others harmes,
+    But came with simple open armes,
+      To haue their causes tryed.
+
+    Together furiously they ran,
+    That to the ground came horse and man,                           610
+    The blood out of their Helmets span,
+      So sharpe were their incounters;
+    And though they to the earth were throwne,
+    Yet quickly they regain'd their owne,
+    Such nimblenesse was neuer showne,
+      They were two Gallant Mounters.
+
+    When in a second Course againe,
+    They forward came with might and mayne,
+    Yet which had better of the twaine,
+      The Seconds could not iudge yet;                               620
+    Their shields were into pieces cleft,
+    Their helmets from their heads were reft,
+    And to defend them nothing left,
+      These Champions would not budge yet.
+
+    Away from them their Staues they threw,
+    Their cruell Swords they quickly drew,
+    And freshly they the fight renew;
+      They euery stroke redoubled:
+    Which made _Proserpina_ take heed,
+    And make to them the greater speed,                              630
+    For fear lest they too much should bleed,
+      Which wondrously her troubled.
+
+    When to th' infernall _Stix_ she goes,
+    She takes the Fogs from thence that rose,
+    And in a Bagge doth them enclose;
+      When well she had them blended:
+    She hyes her then to _Lethe_ spring,
+    A Bottell and thereof doth bring,
+    Wherewith she meant to worke the thing,
+      Which onely she intended.                                      640
+
+    Now _Proserpine_ with _Mab_ is gone
+    Vnto the place where _Oberon_
+    And proud _Pigwiggen_, one to one,
+      Both to be slaine were likely:
+    And there themselues they closely hide,
+    Because they would not be espide;
+    For _Proserpine_ meant to decide
+      The matter very quickly.
+
+    And suddainly vntyes the Poke,
+    Which out of it sent such a smoke,                               650
+    As ready was them all to choke,
+      So greeuous was the pother;
+    So that the Knights each other lost,
+    And stood as still as any post,
+    _Tom Thum_, nor _Tomalin_ could boast
+      Themselues of any other.
+
+    But when the mist gan somewhat cease,
+    _Proserpina_ commanded peace:
+    And that a while they should release,
+      Each other of their perill:                                    660
+    Which here (quoth she) I doe proclaime
+    To all in dreadfull _Plutos_ name,
+    That as yee will eschewe his blame,
+      You let me heare the quarrell,
+
+    But here your selues you must engage,
+    Somewhat to coole your spleenish rage:
+    Your greeuous thirst and to asswage,
+      That first you drinke this liquor:
+    Which shall your vnderstanding cleare,
+    As plainely shall to you appeare;                                670
+    Those things from me that you shall heare,
+      Conceiuing much the quicker.
+
+    This _Lethe_ water you must knowe,
+    The memory destroyeth so,
+    That of our weale, or of our woe,
+      It all remembrance blotted;
+    Of it nor can you euer thinke:
+    For they no sooner tooke this drinke,
+    But nought into their braines could sinke,
+      Of what had them besotted.                                     680
+
+    King _Oberon_ forgotten had,
+    That he for iealousie ranne mad:
+    But of his Queene was wondrous glad,
+      And ask'd how they came thither:
+    _Pigwiggen_ likewise doth forget,
+    That he Queene _Mab_ had euer met;
+    Or that they were so hard beset,
+      When they were found together.
+
+    Nor neither of them both had thought,
+    That e'r they had each other sought;                             690
+    Much lesse that they a Combat fought,
+      But such a dreame were lothing:
+    _Tom Thum_ had got a little sup,
+    And _Tomalin_ scarce kist the Cup,
+    Yet had their braines so sure lockt vp,
+      That they remembred nothing.
+
+    Queene _Mab_ and her light Maydes the while,
+    Amongst themselues doe closely smile,
+    To see the King caught with this wile,
+      With one another testing:                                      700
+    And to the _Fayrie_ Court they went,
+    With mickle ioy and merriment,
+    Which thing was done with good intent,
+      And thus I left them feasting.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE QVEST OF CYNTHIA
+
+
+    What time the groues were clad in greene,
+      The Fields drest all in flowers,
+    And that the sleeke-hayred Nimphs were seene,
+      To seeke them Summer Bowers.
+
+    Forth rou'd I by the sliding Rills,
+      To finde where CYNTHIA sat,
+    Whose name so often from the hills,
+      The Ecchos wondred at.
+
+    When me vpon my Quest to bring,
+      That pleasure might excell,                                     10
+    The Birds stroue which should sweetliest sing,
+      The Flowers which sweet'st should smell.
+
+    Long wand'ring in the Woods (said I)
+      Oh whether's CYNTHIA gone?
+    When soone the Eccho doth reply,
+      To my last word, goe on.
+
+    At length vpon a lofty Firre,
+      It was my chance to finde,
+    Where that deare name most due to her,
+      Was caru'd vpon the rynde.                                      20
+
+    Which whilst with wonder I beheld,
+      The Bees their hony brought,
+    And vp the carued letters fild,
+      As they with gould were wrought.
+
+    And neere that trees more spacious roote,
+      Then looking on the ground,
+    The shape of her most dainty foot,
+      Imprinted there I found.
+
+    Which stuck there like a curious seale,
+      As though it should forbid                                      30
+    Vs, wretched mortalls, to reueale,
+      What vnder it was hid.
+
+    Besides the flowers which it had pres'd,
+      Apeared to my vew,
+    More fresh and louely than the rest,
+      That in the meadowes grew:
+
+    The cleere drops in the steps that stood,
+      Of that dilicious Girle,
+    The Nimphes amongst their dainty food,
+      Drunke for dissolued pearle.                                    40
+
+    The yeilding sand, where she had troad,
+      Vntutcht yet with the winde,
+    By the faire posture plainely show'd,
+      Where I might _Cynthia_ finde.
+
+    When on vpon my waylesse walke,
+      As my desires me draw,
+    I like a madman fell to talke,
+      With euery thing I saw:
+
+    I ask'd some Lillyes why so white,
+      They from their fellowes were;                                  50
+    Who answered me, that _Cynthia's_ sight,
+      Had made them looke so cleare:
+
+    I ask'd a nodding Violet why,
+      It sadly hung the head,
+    It told me _Cynthia_ late past by,
+      Too soone from it that fled:
+
+    A bed of Roses saw I there,
+      Bewitching with their grace:
+    Besides so wondrous sweete they were,
+      That they perfum'd the place,                                   60
+
+    I of a Shrube of those enquir'd,
+      From others of that kind,
+    Who with such virtue them enspir'd,
+      It answer'd (to my minde).
+
+    As the base Hemblocke were we such,
+      The poysned'st weed that growes,
+    Till _Cynthia_ by her god-like tuch,
+      Transform'd vs to the Rose:
+
+    Since when those Frosts that winter brings
+      Which candy euery greene,                                       70
+    Renew vs like the Teeming Springs,
+      And we thus Fresh are scene.
+
+    At length I on a Fountaine light,
+      Whose brim with Pincks was platted;
+    The Banck with Daffadillies dight,
+      With grasse like Sleaue was matted,
+
+    When I demanded of that Well,
+      What power frequented there;
+    Desiring, it would please to tell
+      What name it vsde to beare.                                     80
+
+    It tolde me it was _Cynthias_ owne,
+      Within whose cheerefull brimmes,
+    That curious Nimph had oft beene knowne
+      To bath her snowy Limmes.
+
+    Since when that Water had the power,
+      Lost Mayden-heads to restore,
+    And make one Twenty in an howre,
+      Of _Esons_ age before.
+
+    And told me that the bottome cleere,
+      Now layd with many a fett                                       90
+    Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there:
+      Was knowne as blacke as Jet,
+
+    As when she from the water came,
+      Where first she touch'd the molde,
+    In balls the people made the same
+      For Pomander, and solde.
+
+    When chance me to an Arbour led,
+      Whereas I might behold:
+    Two blest _Elizeums_ in one sted,
+      The lesse the great enfold.                                    100
+
+    The place which she had chosen out,
+      Her selfe in to repose;
+    Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt
+      The very same had chose.
+
+    The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore
+      That sweet, nor dainty flower
+    That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore
+      Of CYNTHIAS Summer Bower.
+
+    The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay,
+      Like Friends did all embrace;                                  110
+    And their large branches did display,
+      To Canapy the place.
+
+    Where she like VENVS doth appeare,
+      Vpon a Rosie bed;
+    As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare,
+      Whereon she layd her head.
+
+    Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd,
+      And with such bounties blest:
+    No lim of hers but might haue made
+      A Goddesse at the least.                                       120
+
+    The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre,
+      By the bright Radience throwne
+    From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare,
+      They so like Diamonds shone.
+
+    The meanest weede the soyle there bare,
+      Her breath did so refine,
+    That it with Woodbynd durst compare,
+      And beard the Eglantine.
+
+    The dewe which on the tender grasse,
+      The Euening had distill'd,                                     130
+    To pure Rose-water turned was,
+      The shades with sweets that fill'd.
+
+    The windes were husht, no leafe so small
+      At all was scene to stirre:
+    Whilst tuning to the waters fall,
+      The small Birds sang to her.
+
+    Where she too quickly me espies,
+      When I might plainely see,
+    A thousand _Cupids_ from her eyes
+      Shoote all at once at me.                                      140
+
+    Into these secret shades (quoth she)
+      How dar'st thou be so bold
+    To enter, consecrate to me,
+      Or touch this hallowed mold.
+
+    Those words (quoth she) I can pronounce,
+      Which to that shape can bring
+    Thee, which the Hunter had who once
+      Sawe _Dian_ in the Spring.
+
+    Bright Nimph againe I thus replie,
+      This cannot me affright:                                       150
+    I had rather in thy presence die,
+      Then liue out of thy sight.
+
+    I first vpon the Mountaines hie,
+      Built Altars to thy name;
+    And grau'd it on the Rocks thereby,
+      To propogate thy fame.
+
+    I taught the Shepheards on the Downes,
+      Of thee to frame their Layes:
+    T'was I that fill'd the neighbouring Townes,
+      With Ditties of thy praise.                                    160
+
+    Thy colours I deuis'd with care,
+      Which were vnknowne before:
+    Which since that, in their braded hayre
+      The Nimphes and Siluans wore.
+
+    Transforme me to what shape you can,
+      I passe not what it be:
+    Yea what most hatefull is to man,
+      So I may follow thee.
+
+    Which when she heard full pearly floods,
+      I in her eyes might view:                                      170
+    (Quoth she) most welcome to these Woods,
+      Too meane for one so true.
+
+    Here from the hatefull world we'll liue,
+      A den of mere dispight:
+    To Ideots only that doth giue,
+      Which be her sole delight.
+
+    To people the infernall pit,
+      That more and more doth striue;
+    Where only villany is wit,
+      And Diuels only thriue.                                        180
+
+    Whose vilenesse vs shall neuer awe:
+      But here our sports shall be:
+    Such as the golden world first sawe,
+      Most innocent and free.
+
+    Of Simples in these Groues that growe,
+      Wee'll learne the perfect skill;
+    The nature of each Herbe to knowe
+      Which cures, and which can kill.
+
+    The waxen Pallace of the Bee,
+      We seeking will surprise                                       190
+    The curious workmanship to see,
+      Of her full laden thighes.
+
+    Wee'll suck the sweets out of the Combe,
+      And make the gods repine:
+    As they doe feast in _Ioues_ great roome,
+      To see with what we dine.
+
+    Yet when there haps a honey fall,
+      Wee'll lick the sirupt leaues:
+    And tell the Bees that their's is gall,
+      To this vpon the Greaues.                                      200
+
+    The nimble Squirrell noting here,
+      Her mossy Dray that makes,
+    And laugh to see the lusty Deere
+      Come bounding ore the brakes.
+
+    The Spiders Webb to watch weele stand,
+      And when it takes the Bee,
+    Weele helpe out of the Tyrants hand,
+      The Innocent to free.
+
+    Sometime weele angle at the Brooke,
+      The freckled Trout to take,                                    210
+    With silken Wormes, and bayte the hooke,
+      Which him our prey shall make.
+
+    Of medling with such subtile tooles,
+      Such dangers that enclose,
+    The Morrall is that painted Fooles,
+      Are caught with silken showes.
+
+    And when the Moone doth once appeare,
+      Weele trace the lower grounds,
+    When _Fayries_ in their Ringlets there
+      Do daunce their nightly rounds.                                220
+
+    And haue a Flocke of Turtle Doues,
+      A guard on vs to keepe,
+    A witnesse of our honest loues,
+      To watch vs till we sleepe.
+
+    Which spoke I felt such holy fires
+      To ouerspred my breast,
+    As lent life to my Chast desires
+      And gaue me endlesse rest.
+
+    By _Cynthia_ thus doe I subsist,
+      On earth Heauens onely pride,                                  230
+    Let her be mine, and let who list,
+      Take all the world beside.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEPHEARDS SIRENA
+
+
+          DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,
+          Autumne waxing olde and chill,
+          As he sate his Flocks to keepe
+          Vnderneath an easie hill:
+          Chanc'd to cast his eye aside
+          On those fields, where he had scene,
+          Bright SIRENA Natures pride,
+          Sporting on the pleasant greene:
+          To whose walkes the Shepheards oft,
+          Came her god-like foote to finde,                           10
+          And in places that were soft,
+          Kist the print there left behinde;
+          Where the path which she had troad,
+          Hath thereby more glory gayn'd,
+          Then in heau'n that milky rode,
+          Which with Nectar _Hebe_ stayn'd:
+          But bleake Winters boystrous blasts,
+          Now their fading pleasures chid,
+          And so fill'd them with his wastes,
+          That from sight her steps were hid.                         20
+          Silly Shepheard sad the while,
+          For his sweet SIRENA gone,
+          All his pleasures in exile:
+          Layd on the colde earth alone.
+          Whilst his gamesome cut-tayld Curre,
+          With his mirthlesse Master playes,
+          Striuing him with sport to stirre,
+          As in his more youthfull dayes,
+          DORILVS his Dogge doth chide,
+          Layes his well-tun'd Bagpype by,                            30
+          And his Sheep-hooke casts aside,
+          There (quoth he) together lye.
+          When a Letter forth he tooke,
+          Which to him SIRENA writ,
+          With a deadly down-cast looke,
+          And thus fell to reading it.
+          DORILVS my deare (quoth she)
+          Kinde Companion of my woe,
+          Though we thus diuided be,
+          Death cannot diuorce vs so:                                 40
+          Thou whose bosome hath beene still,
+          Th' onely Closet of my care,
+          And in all my good and ill,
+          Euer had thy equall share:
+          Might I winne thee from thy Fold,
+          Thou shouldst come to visite me,
+          But the Winter is so cold,
+          That I feare to hazard thee:
+          The wilde waters are waxt hie,
+          So they are both deafe and dumbe,                           50
+          Lou'd they thee so well as I,
+          They would ebbe when thou shouldst come;
+          Then my coate with light should shine,
+          Purer then the Vestall fire:
+          Nothing here but should be thine,
+          That thy heart can well desire:
+          Where at large we will relate,
+          From what cause our friendship grewe,
+          And in that the varying Fate,
+          Since we first each other knewe:                            60
+          Of my heauie passed plight,
+          As of many a future feare,
+          Which except the silent night,
+          None but onely thou shalt heare;
+          My sad hurt it shall releeue,
+          When my thoughts I shall disclose,
+          For thou canst not chuse but greeue,
+          When I shall recount my woes;
+          There is nothing to that friend,
+          To whose close vncranied brest,                             70
+          We our secret thoughts may send,
+          And there safely let it rest:
+          And thy faithfull counsell may,
+          My distressed case assist,
+          Sad affliction else may sway
+          Me a woman as it list:
+          Hither I would haue thee haste,
+          Yet would gladly haue thee stay,
+          When those dangers I forecast,
+          That may meet thee by the way,                              80
+          Doe as thou shalt thinke it best,
+          Let thy knowledge be thy guide,
+          Liue thou in my constant breast,
+          Whatsoeuer shall betide.
+          He her Letter hauing red,
+          Puts it in his Scrip againe,
+          Looking like a man halfe dead,
+          By her kindenesse strangely slaine;
+          And as one who inly knew,
+          Her distressed present state,                               90
+          And to her had still been true,
+          Thus doth with himselfe debate.
+          I will not thy face admire,
+          Admirable though it bee,
+          Nor thine eyes whose subtile fire
+          So much wonder winne in me:
+          But my maruell shall be now,
+          (And of long it hath bene so)
+          Of all Woman kind that thou
+          Wert ordain'd to taste of woe;                             100
+          To a Beauty so diuine,
+          Paradise in little done,
+          O that Fortune should assigne,
+          Ought but what thou well mightst shun,
+          But my counsailes such must bee,
+          (Though as yet I them conceale)
+          By their deadly wound in me,
+          They thy hurt must onely heale,
+          Could I giue what thou do'st craue
+          To that passe thy state is growne,                         110
+          I thereby thy life may saue,
+          But am sure to loose mine owne,
+          To that ioy thou do'st conceiue,
+          Through my heart, the way doth lye,
+          Which in two for thee must claue
+          Least that thou shouldst goe awry.
+          Thus my death must be a toy,
+          Which my pensiue breast must couer;
+          Thy beloued to enioy,
+          Must be taught thee by thy Louer.                          120
+          Hard the Choise I haue to chuse,
+          To my selfe if friend I be,
+          I must my SIRENA loose,
+          If not so, shee looseth me.
+          Thus whilst he doth cast about,
+          What therein were best to doe,
+          Nor could yet resolue the doubt,
+          Whether he should stay or goe:
+          In those Feilds not farre away,
+          There was many a frolike Swaine,                           130
+          In fresh Russets day by day,
+          That kept Reuells on the Plaine.
+          Nimble TOM, sirnam'd the _Tup_,
+          For his Pipe without a Peere,
+          And could tickle _Trenchmore_ vp,
+          As t'would ioy your heart to heare.
+          RALPH as much renown'd for skill,
+          That the _Taber_ touch'd so well;
+          For his _Gittern_, little GILL,
+          That all other did excell.                                 140
+          ROCK and ROLLO euery way,
+          Who still led the Rusticke Ging,
+          And could troule a Roundelay,
+          That would make the Feilds to ring,
+          COLLIN on his _Shalme_ so cleare,
+          Many a high-pitcht Note that had,
+          And could make the Eechos nere
+          Shout as they were wexen mad.
+          Many a lusty Swaine beside,
+          That for nought but pleasure car'd,                        150
+          Hauing DORILVS espy'd,
+          And with him knew how it far'd.
+          Thought from him they would remoue,
+          This strong melancholy fitt,
+          Or so, should it not behoue,
+          Quite to put him out of 's witt;
+          Hauing learnt a Song, which he
+          Sometime to Sirena sent,
+          Full of Iollity and glee,
+          When the Nimph liu'd neere to _Trent_                      160
+          They behinde him softly gott,
+          Lying on the earth along,
+          And when he suspected not,
+          Thus the Iouiall Shepheards song.
+
+          Neare to the Siluer _Trent_,
+            _Sirena_ dwelleth:
+          Shee to whom Nature lent
+            All that excelleth:
+          By which the _Muses_ late,
+            And the neate _Graces_,                                  170
+          Haue for their greater state
+            Taken their places:
+          Twisting an _Anadem_,
+            Wherewith to Crowne her,
+          As it belong'd to them
+            Most to renowne her.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let the Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,                                   180
+            Along let them bring her._
+
+          _Tagus_ and _Pactolus_
+            Are to thee Debter,
+          Nor for their gould to vs
+            Are they the better:
+          Henceforth of all the rest,
+            Be thou the Riuer,
+          Which as the daintiest,
+            Puts them downe euer,
+          For as my precious one,                                    190
+            O'r thee doth trauell,
+          She to Pearl Parragon
+            Turneth thy grauell.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Our mournefull _Philomell_,
+            That rarest Tuner,                                       200
+          Henceforth in _Aperill_
+            Shall wake the sooner,
+          And to her shall complaine
+            From the thicke Couer,
+          Redoubling euery straine
+            Ouer and ouer:
+          For when my Loue too long
+            Her Chamber keepeth;
+          As though it suffered wrong,
+            The Morning weepeth.                                     210
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Oft have I seene the Sunne
+            To doe her honour.
+          Fix himselfe at his noone,
+            To look vpon her,
+          And hath guilt euery Groue,                                220
+            Euery Hill neare her,
+          With his flames from aboue,
+            Striuing to cheere her,
+          And when shee from his sight
+            Hath her selfe turned,
+          He as it had beene night,
+            In Cloudes hath mourned.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,                                   230
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Verdant Meades are seene,
+            When she doth view them,
+          In fresh and gallant Greene,
+            Straight to renewe them,
+          And euery little Grasse
+            Broad it selfe spreadeth,
+          Proud that this bonny Lasse
+            Vpon it treadeth:                                        240
+          Nor flower is so sweete
+            In this large Cincture
+          But it upon her feete
+            Leaueth some Tincture.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with thy Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          The Fishes in the Flood,                                   250
+            When she doth Angle,
+          For the Hooke striue a good
+            Them to intangle;
+          And leaping on the Land
+            From the cleare water,
+          Their Scales vpon the sand,
+            Lauishly scatter;
+          Therewith to paue the mould
+            Whereon she passes,
+          So her selfe to behold,                                    260
+            As in her glasses.
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swanns sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          When shee lookes out by night,
+            The Starres stand gazing,
+          Like Commets to our sight
+            Fearefully blazing,                                      270
+          As wondring at her eyes
+            With their much brightnesse,
+          Which to amaze the skies,
+            Dimming their lightnesse,
+          The raging Tempests are Calme,
+            When shee speaketh,
+          Such most delightsome balme
+            From her lips breaketh.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke,
+              In a Rancke_, &c.                                      280
+
+          In all our _Brittany_,
+            Ther's not a fayrer,
+          Nor can you fitt any:
+            Should you compare her.
+          Angels her eye-lids keepe
+            All harts surprizing,
+          Which looke whilst she doth sleepe
+            Like the Sunnes rising:
+          She alone of her kinde
+            Knoweth true measure                                     290
+          And her vnmatched mind
+            Is Heauens treasure:
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,
+              In a Rancke
+          Let thy Swanes sing her,
+            And with their Musick,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Fayre _Doue_ and _Darwine_ cleere
+            Boast yee your beauties,
+          To _Trent_ your Mistres here                               300
+            Yet pay your duties,
+          My Loue was higher borne
+            Tow'rds the full Fountaines,
+          Yet she doth _Moorland_ scorne,
+            And the _Peake_ Mountaines;
+          Nor would she none should dreame,
+            Where she abideth,
+          Humble as is the streame,
+            Which by her slydeth,
+    Cho.      _On thy Bancke,                                        310
+              In a Rancke,
+          Let thy Swannes sing her,
+            And with their Musicke,
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Yet my poore Rusticke _Muse_,
+            Nothing can moue her,
+          Nor the means I can vse,
+            Though her true Louer:
+          Many a long Winters night,
+            Haue I wak'd for her,                                    320
+          Yet this my piteous plight,
+            Nothing can stirre her.
+          All thy Sands siluer _Trent_
+            Downe to the _Humber_,
+          The sighes I haue spent
+            Neuer can number.
+    Cho.      _On thy Banke
+              In a Ranke,
+          Let thy Swans sing her
+            And with their Musicke                                   330
+          Along let them bring her._
+
+          Taken with this suddaine Song,
+          Least for mirth when he doth look
+          His sad heart more deeply stong,
+          Then the former care he tooke.
+          At their laughter and amaz'd,
+          For a while he sat aghast
+          But a little hauing gaz'd,
+          Thus he them bespake at last.
+          Is this time for mirth (quoth he)                          340
+          To a man with griefe opprest,
+          Sinfull wretches as you be,
+          May the sorrowes in my breast,
+          Light vpon you one by one,
+          And as now you mocke my woe,
+          When your mirth is turn'd to moane;
+          May your like then serue you so.
+            When one Swaine among the rest
+          Thus him merrily bespake,
+          Get thee vp thou arrant beast                              350
+          Fits this season loue to make?
+          Take thy Sheephooke in thy hand,
+          Clap thy Curre and set him on,
+          For our fields 'tis time to stand,
+          Or they quickly will be gon.
+          Rougish Swinheards that repine
+          At our Flocks, like beastly Clownes,
+          Sweare that they will bring their Swine,
+          And will wroote vp all our Downes:
+          They their Holly whips haue brac'd,                        360
+          And tough Hazell goades haue gott;
+          Soundly they your sides will baste,
+          If their courage faile them not.
+          Of their purpose if they speed,
+          Then your Bagpypes you may burne,
+          It is neither Droane nor Reed
+          Shepheard, that will serue your turne:
+          Angry OLCON sets them on,
+          And against vs part doth take
+          Euer since he was out-gone,                                370
+          Offring Rymes with us to make.
+          Yet if so our Sheepe-hookes hold,
+          Dearely shall our Downes be bought,
+          For it neuer shall be told,
+          We our Sheep-walkes sold for naught.
+          And we here haue got vs Dogges,
+          Best of all the Westerne breed,
+          Which though Whelps shall lug their Hogges,
+          Till they make their eares to bleed:
+          Therefore Shepheard come away.                             380
+          When as DORILVS arose,
+          Whistles Cut-tayle from his play,
+          And along with them he goes.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+THE MVSES ELIZIVM
+
+The Description of Elizium
+
+
+    A Paradice on earth is found,
+      Though farre from vulgar sight,
+    Which with those pleasures doth abound
+      That it _Elizium_ hight.
+
+    Where, in Delights that neuer fade,
+      The Muses lulled be,
+    And sit at pleasure in the shade
+      Of many a stately tree,
+
+    Which no rough Tempest makes to reele
+      Nor their straight bodies bowes,                                10
+    Their lofty tops doe neuer feele
+      The weight of winters snowes;
+
+    In Groues that euermore are greene,
+      No falling leafe is there,
+    But _Philomel_ (of birds the Queene)
+      In Musicke spends the yeare.
+
+    The _Merle_ vpon her mertle Perch,
+      There to the _Mavis_ sings,
+    Who from the top of some curld Berch
+      Those notes redoubled rings;                                    20
+
+    There Daysyes damaske euery place
+      Nor once their beauties lose,
+    That when proud _Phoebus_ hides his face
+      Themselues they scorne to close.
+
+    The Pansy and the Violet here,
+      As seeming to descend,
+    Both from one Root, a very payre,
+      For sweetnesse yet contend,
+
+    And pointing to a Pinke to tell
+      Which beares it, it is loath,                                   30
+    To iudge it; but replyes for smell
+      That it excels them both.
+
+    Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads
+      So angry soone they grow
+    And from their odoriferous beds
+      Their sweets at it they throw.
+
+    The winter here a Summer is,
+      No waste is made by time,
+    Nor doth the Autumne euer misse
+      The blossomes of the Prime.                                     40
+
+    The flower that Iuly forth doth bring
+      In Aprill here is seene,
+    The Primrose that puts on the Spring
+      In Iuly decks each Greene.
+
+    The sweets for soueraignty contend
+      And so abundant be,
+    That to the very Earth they lend
+      And Barke of euery Tree:
+
+    Rills rising out of euery Banck,
+      In wild Meanders strayne,                                       50
+    And playing many a wanton pranck
+      Vpon the speckled plaine,
+
+    In Gambols and lascivious Gyres
+      Their time they still bestow
+    Nor to their Fountaines none retyres,
+      Nor on their course will goe.
+
+    Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt,
+      So proud and wanton made,
+    That they their courses quite neglect:
+      And seeme as though they stayde,                                60
+
+    Faire _Flora_ in her state to viewe
+      Which through those Lillies looks,
+    Or as those Lillies leand to shew
+      Their beauties to the brooks.
+
+    That _Phoebus_in his lofty race,
+      Oft layes aside his beames
+    And comes to coole his glowing face
+      In these delicious streames;
+
+    Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues,
+      Whose ripned clusters there,                                    70
+    Their liquid purple drop, which driues
+      A Vintage through the yeere.
+
+    Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad
+      With Trees of sundry sutes,
+    Which make continuall summer glad,
+      Euen bending with their fruits,
+
+    Some ripening, ready some to fall,
+      Some blossom'd, some to bloome,
+    Like gorgeous hangings on the wall
+      Of some rich princely Roome:                                    80
+
+    _Pomegranates_, _Lymons_, _Cytrons_, so
+      Their laded branches bow,
+    Their leaues in number that outgoe
+      Nor roomth will them alow.
+
+    There in perpetuall Summers shade,
+      _Apolloes_ Prophets sit,
+    Among the flowres that neuer fade,
+      But flowrish like their wit;
+
+    To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres,
+      Tune many a curious lay,                                        90
+    And with their most melodious Quires
+      Make short the longest day.
+
+    The _thrice three Virgins_ heavenly Cleere,
+      Their trembling Timbrels sound,
+    Whilst the three comely Graces there
+      Dance many a dainty Round,
+
+    Decay nor Age there nothing knowes,
+      There is continuall Youth,
+    As Time on plant or creatures growes,
+      So still their strength renewth.                               100
+
+    The Poets Paradice this is,
+      To which but few can come;
+    The Muses onely bower of blisse
+      Their Deare _Elizium_.
+
+    Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers,
+      Free from the rude resort
+    Of beastly people) spend the houres,
+      In harmelesse mirth and sport,
+
+    Then on to the _Elizian_ plaines
+      _Apollo_ doth invite you                                       110
+    Where he prouides with pastorall straines,
+      In Nimphals to delight you.
+
+
+The first Nimphall
+
+RODOPE and DORIDA.
+
+        _This Nimphall of delights doth treat,
+        Choice beauties, and proportions neat,
+        Of curious shapes, and dainty features
+        Describd in two most perfect creatures._
+
+    When _Phoebus_ with a face of mirth,
+    Had flong abroad his beames,
+    To blanch the bosome of the earth,
+    And glaze the gliding streames.
+    Within a goodly Mertle groue,
+    Vpon that hallowed day
+    The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue
+    Their vowes were vsde to pay.
+    Faire _Rodope_ and _Dorida_
+    Met in those sacred shades,                                       10
+    Then whom the Sunne in all his way,
+    Nere saw two daintier Maids.
+    And through the thickets thrild his fires,
+    Supposing to haue seene
+    The soueraigne _Goddesse of desires_,
+    Or _Ioves Emperious Queene_:
+    Both of so wondrous beauties were,
+    In shape both so excell,
+    That to be paraleld elsewhere,
+    No iudging eye could tell.                                        20
+    And their affections so surpasse,
+    As well it might be deemd,
+    That th' one of them the other was,
+    And but themselues they seem'd.
+    And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place,
+    Disposed were to play
+    At Barly-breake and Prison-base,
+    Doe passe the time away:
+    This peerlesse payre together set,
+    The other at their sport,                                         30
+    None neare their free discourse to let,
+    Each other thus they court,
+
+      _Dorida._ My sweet, my soueraigne _Rodope_,
+    My deare delight, my loue,
+    That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me,
+    I to this Bracelet woue;
+    Which brighter euery day doth grow
+    The longer it is worne,
+    As its delicious fellowes doe,
+    Thy Temples that adorne.                                          40
+
+      _Rodope._ Nay had I thine my _Dorida_,
+    I would them so bestow,
+    As that the winde vpon my way,
+    Might backward make them flow,
+    So should it in its greatst excesse
+    Turne to becalmed ayre,
+    And quite forget all boistrousnesse
+    To play with euery hayre.
+
+      _Dorida._ To me like thine had nature giuen,
+    A Brow, so Archt, so cleere,                                      50
+    A Front, wherein so much of heauen
+    Doth to each eye appeare,
+    The world should see, I would strike dead
+    The Milky Way that's now,
+    And say that Nectar _Hebe_ shed
+    Fell all vpon my Brow.
+
+      _Rodope._ O had I eyes like _Doridaes_,
+    I would inchant the day
+    And make the Sunne to stand at gaze,
+    Till he forget his way:                                           60
+    And cause his Sister _Queene of Streames_,
+    When so I list by night;
+    By her much blushing at my Beames
+    T' eclipse her borrowed light.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Cheeke like _Rodopes_,
+    In midst of which doth stand,
+    A Groue of Roses, such as these,
+    In such a snowy land:
+    I would then make the Lilly which we now
+    So much for whitenesse name,                                      70
+    As drooping downe the head to bow,
+    And die for very shame.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a bosome like to thine,
+    When I it pleas'd to show,
+    T' what part o' th' Skie I would incline
+    I would make th' Etheriall bowe,
+    My swannish breast brancht all with blew,
+    In brauery like the spring:
+    In Winter to the generall view
+    Full Summer forth should bring.                                   80
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a body like my deare,
+    Were I so straight so tall,
+    O, if so broad my shoulders were,
+    Had I a waste so small;
+    I would challenge the proud Queene of loue
+    To yeeld to me for shape,
+    And I should feare that _Mars_ or _Iove_
+    Would venter for my rape.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a hand like thee my Gerle,
+    (This hand O let me kisse)                                        90
+    These Ivory Arrowes pyl'd with pearle,
+    Had I a hand like this;
+    I would not doubt at all to make,
+    Each finger of my hand
+    To taske swift _Mercury_ to take
+    With his inchanting wand.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I a Theigh like Rodopes;
+    Which twas my chance to viewe,
+    When lying on yon banck at ease,
+    The wind thy skirt vp blew,                                      100
+    I would say it were a columne wrought
+    To some intent Diuine,
+    And for our chaste _Diana_ sought,
+    A pillar for her shryne.
+
+      _Rodope._ Had I a Leg but like to thine
+    That were so neat, so cleane,
+    A swelling Calfe, a Small so fine,
+    An Ankle, round and leane,
+    I would tell nature she doth misse
+    Her old skill; and maintaine,                                    110
+    She shewd her master peece in this,
+    Not to be done againe.
+
+      _Dorida._ Had I that Foot hid in those shoos,
+    (Proportion'd to my height)
+    Short Heele, thin Instep, euen Toes,
+    A Sole so wondrous straight,
+    The Forresters and Nimphes at this
+    Amazed all should stand,
+    And kneeling downe, should meekely kisse
+    The Print left in the sand.                                      120
+
+    By this the Nimphes came from their sport,
+    All pleased wondrous well,
+    And to these Maydens make report
+    What lately them befell:
+    One said the dainty _Lelipa_
+    Did all the rest out-goe,
+    Another would a wager lay
+    She would outstrip a Roe;
+    Sayes one, how like you _Florimel_
+    There is your dainty face:                                       130
+    A fourth replide, she lik't that well,
+    Yet better lik't her grace,
+    She's counted, I confesse, quoth she,
+    To be our onely Pearle,
+    Yet haue I heard her oft to be
+    A melancholy Gerle.
+    Another said she quite mistoke,
+    That onely was her art,
+    When melancholly had her looke
+    Then mirth was in her heart;                                     140
+    And hath she then that pretty trick
+    Another doth reply,
+    I thought no Nimph could haue bin sick
+    Of that disease but I;
+    I know you can dissemble well
+    Quoth one to giue you due,
+    But here be some (who Ile not tell)
+    Can do't as well as you,
+    Who thus replies, I know that too,
+    We haue it from our Mother,                                      150
+    Yet there be some this thing can doe
+    More cunningly then other:
+    If Maydens but dissemble can
+    Their sorrow and ther ioy,
+    Their pore dissimulation than,
+    Is but a very toy.
+
+
+The second Nimphall
+
+LALVS, CLEON, and LIROPE.
+
+                  _The Muse new Courtship doth deuise,
+                  By Natures strange Varieties,
+                  Whose Rarieties she here relates,
+                  And giues you Pastorall Delicates._
+
+              _Lalus_ a Iolly youthfull Lad,
+              With _Cleon_, no lesse crown'd
+              With vertues; both their beings had
+              On the Elizian ground.
+              Both hauing parts so excellent,
+              That it a question was,
+              Which should be the most eminent,
+              Or did in ought surpasse:
+              This _Cleon_ was a Mountaineer,
+              And of the wilder kinde,                                10
+              And from his birth had many a yeere
+              Bin nurst vp by a Hinde.
+              And as the sequell well did show,
+              It very well might be;
+              For neuer Hart, nor Hare, nor Roe,
+              Were halfe so swift as he.
+              But _Lalus_ in the Vale was bred,
+              Amongst the Sheepe and Neate,
+              And by these Nimphes there choicly fed,
+              With Hony, Milke, and Wheate;                           20
+              Of Stature goodly, faire of speech,
+              And of behauiour mylde,
+              Like those there in the Valley rich,
+              That bred him of a chyld.
+              Of Falconry they had the skill,
+              Their Halkes to feed and flye,
+              No better Hunters ere clome Hill,
+              Nor hollowed to a Cry:
+              In Dingles deepe, and Mountains hore,
+              Oft with the bearded Speare                             30
+              They combated the tusky Boare,
+              And slew the angry Beare.
+              In Musicke they were wondrous quaint,
+              Fine Aers they could deuise;
+              They very curiously could Paint,
+              And neatly Poetize;
+              That wagers many time were laid
+              On Questions that arose,
+              Which song the witty _Lalus_ made,
+              Which _Cleon_ should compose.                           40
+              The stately Steed they manag'd well,
+              Of Fence the art they knew,
+              For Dansing they did all excell
+              The Gerles that to them drew;
+              To throw the Sledge, to pitch the Barre,
+              To wrestle and to Run,
+              They all the Youth exceld so farre,
+              That still the Prize they wonne.
+              These sprightly Gallants lou'd a Lasse,
+              Cald _Lirope the bright_,                               50
+              In the whole world there scarcely was
+              So delicate a Wight,
+              There was no Beauty so diuine
+              That euer Nimph did grace,
+              But it beyond it selfe did shine
+              In her more heuenly face:
+              What forme she pleasd each thing would take
+              That ere she did behold,
+              Of Pebbles she could Diamonds make,
+              Grosse Iron turne to Gold:                              60
+              Such power there with her presence came
+              Sterne Tempests she alayd,
+              The cruell Tiger she could tame,
+              She raging Torrents staid,
+              She chid, she cherisht, she gaue life,
+              Againe she made to dye,
+              She raisd a warre, apeasd a Strife,
+              With turning of her eye.
+              Some said a God did her beget,
+              But much deceiu'd were they,                            70
+              Her Father was a _Riuelet_,
+              Her Mother was a _Fay_.
+              Her Lineaments so fine that were,
+              She from the Fayrie tooke,
+              Her Beauties and Complection cleere,
+              By nature from the Brooke.
+              These Ryualls wayting for the houre
+              (The weather calme and faire)
+              When as she vs'd to leaue her Bower
+              To take the pleasant ayre                               80
+              Acosting her; their complement
+              To her their Goddesse done;
+              By gifts they tempt her to consent,
+              When _Lalus_ thus begun.
+
+                _Lalus._ Sweet _Lirope_ I haue a Lambe
+              Newly wayned from the Damme,
+_* Without    Of the right kinde, it is *notted,
+hornes._      Naturally with purple spotted,
+              Into laughter it will put you,
+              To see how prettily 'twill But you;                     90
+              When on sporting it is set,
+              It will beate you a Corvet,
+              And at euery nimble bound
+              Turne it selfe aboue the ground;
+              When tis hungry it will bleate,
+              From your hand to haue its meate,
+              And when it hath fully fed,
+              It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head,
+              As innocently to expresse
+              Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse,                     100
+              When you bid it, it will play,
+              Be it either night or day,
+              This _Lirope_ I haue for thee,
+              So thou alone wilt liue with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ From him O turne thine eare away,
+              And heare me my lou'd _Lirope_,
+              I haue a Kid as white as milke,
+              His skin as soft as _Naples_ silke,
+              His hornes in length are wondrous euen,
+              And curiously by nature writhen;                       110
+              It is of th' Arcadian kinde,
+              Ther's not the like twixt either _Inde_;
+              If you walke, 'twill walke you by,
+              If you sit downe, it downe will lye,
+              It with gesture will you wooe,
+              And counterfeit those things you doe;
+              Ore each Hillock it will vault,
+              And nimbly doe the Summer-sault,
+              Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe,
+              And follow you a furlong so,                           120
+              And if by chance a Tune you roate,
+              'Twill foote it finely to your note,
+              Seeke the worlde and you may misse
+              To finde out such a thing as this;
+              This my loue I haue for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare,
+              And you offer wondrous faire;
+              _Lalus_ for Lambe, _Cleon_ for Kyd,
+              'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid,                130
+              And haue you two such things in store,
+              And I n'er knew of them before?
+              Well yet I dare a Wager lay
+              That _Brag_ my little Dog shall play,
+              As dainty tricks when I shall bid,
+              As _Lalus_ Lambe, or _Cleons_ Kid.
+              But t' may fall out that I may neede them
+              Till when yee may doe well to feed them;
+              Your Goate and Mutton pretty be
+              But Youths these are noe bayts for me,                 140
+              Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe,
+              'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.
+
+                _Lalus._ I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow,
+              Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show;
+              In her Bosome _Venus_ hatcht them
+              Where her little _Cupid_ watcht them,
+              Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke
+              Themselues and to the Fields betooke,
+              Where by chance a Fowler caught them
+              Of whom I full dearely bought them;                    150
+_* The redde  They'll fetch you Conserue from the *Hip,
+fruit of the  And lay it softly on your Lip,
+smooth        Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup
+Bramble._     And fluttering feed you with the Sirup,
+              And if thence you put them by
+              They to your white necke will flye,
+              And if you expulse them there
+              They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre;
+              You so long shall see them prattle
+              Till at length they'll fall to battle,                 160
+              And when they haue fought their fill,
+              You will smile to see them bill
+              These birds my _Lirope's_ shall be
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ His Sparrowes are not worth a rush
+              I'le finde as good in euery bush,
+              Of Doues I haue a dainty paire
+              Which when you please to take the Air,
+              About your head shall gently houer
+              You Cleere browe from the Sunne to couer,              170
+              And with their nimble wings shall fan you,
+              That neither Cold nor Heate shall tan you,
+              And like Vmbrellas with their feathers
+              Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers:
+              They be most dainty Coloured things,
+              They haue Damask backs and Chequerd wings,
+              Their neckes more Various Cullours showe
+              Then there be mixed in the Bowe;
+              _Venus_ saw the lesser Doue
+              And therewith was farre in Loue,                       180
+              Offering for't her goulden Ball
+              For her Sonne to play withall;
+              These my _Liropes_ shall be
+              So shee'll leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Then for Sparrowes, and for Doues
+              I am fitted twixt my Loues,
+              But _Lalus_ I take no delight
+              In Sparowes, for they'll scratch and bite
+              And though ioynd, they are euer wooing
+              Alwayes billing, if not doeing,                        190
+              Twixt _Venus_ breasts if they haue lyen
+              I much feare they'll infect myne;
+              _Cleon_ your Doues are very dainty,
+              Tame Pidgeons else you know are plenty,
+              These may winne some of your Marrowes
+              I am not caught with Doues, nor Sparrowes,
+              I thanke ye kindly for your Coste,
+              Yet your labour is but loste.
+
+                _Lalus._ With full-leau'd Lillies I will stick
+              Thy braded hayre all o'r so thick,                     200
+              That from it a Light shall throw
+              Like the Sunnes vpon the Snow.
+              Thy Mantle shall be Violet Leaues,
+              With the fin'st the Silkeworme weaues
+              As finely wouen; whose rich smell
+              The Ayre about thee so shall swell
+              That it shall haue no power to mooue.
+              A Ruffe of Pinkes thy Robe aboue
+              About thy necke so neatly set
+              That Art it cannot counterfet,                         210
+              Which still shall looke so Fresh and new,
+              As if vpon their Roots they grew:
+              And for thy head Ile haue a Tyer
+              Of netting, made of Strawbery wyer,
+              And in each knot that doth compose
+              A Mesh, shall stick a halfe blowne Rose,
+              Red, damaske, white, in order set
+              About the sides, shall run a Fret
+              Of Primroses, the Tyer throughout
+              With Thrift and Dayses frindgd about;                  220
+              All this faire Nimph Ile doe for thee,
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Cleon._ These be but weeds and Trash he brings,
+              Ile giue thee solid, costly things,
+              His will wither and be gone
+              Before thou well canst put them on;
+              With Currall I will haue thee Crown'd,
+              Whose Branches intricatly wound
+              Shall girt thy Temples euery way;
+              And on the top of euery Spray                          230
+              Shall stick a Pearle orient and great,
+              Which so the wandring Birds shall cheat,
+              That some shall stoope to looke for Cheries,
+              As other for tralucent Berries.
+              And wondering, caught e'r they be ware
+              In the curld Tramels of thy hayre:
+              And for thy necke a Christall Chaine
+              Whose lincks shapt like to drops of Raine,
+              Vpon thy panting Breast depending,
+              Shall seeme as they were still descending,             240
+              And as thy breath doth come and goe,
+              So seeming still to ebbe and flow:
+              With Amber Bracelets cut like Bees,
+              Whose strange transparency who sees,
+              With Silke small as the Spiders Twist
+              Doubled so oft about thy Wrist,
+              Would surely thinke aliue they were,
+              From Lillies gathering hony there.
+              Thy Buskins Ivory, caru'd like Shels
+              Of Scallope, which as little Bels                      250
+              Made hollow, with the Ayre shall Chime,
+              And to thy steps shall keepe the time:
+              Leaue _Lalus_, _Lirope_ for me
+              And these shall thy rich dowry be.
+
+                _Lirope._ _Lalus_ for Flowers. _Cleon_ for Iemmes,
+              For Garlands and for Diadems,
+              I shall be sped, why this is braue,
+              What Nimph can choicer Presents haue,
+              With dressing, brading, frowncing, flowring,
+              All your Iewels on me powring,                         260
+              In this brauery being drest,
+              To the ground I shall be prest,
+              That I doubt the Nimphes will feare me,
+              Nor will venture to come neare me;
+              Neuer Lady of the May,
+              To this houre was halfe so gay;
+              All in flowers, all so sweet,
+              From the Crowne, beneath the Feet,
+              Amber, Currall, Ivory, Pearle,
+              If this cannot win a Gerle,                            270
+              Ther's nothing can, and this ye wooe me,
+              Giue me your hands and trust ye to me,
+              (Yet to tell ye I am loth)
+              That I'le haue neither of you both;
+
+                _Lalus._ When thou shalt please to stem the flood,
+              (As thou art of the watry brood)
+              I'le haue twelve Swannes more white than Snow,
+              Yokd for the purpose two and two,
+              To drawe thy Barge wrought of fine Reed
+              So well that it nought else shall need,                280
+              The Traces by which they shall hayle
+              Thy Barge; shall be the winding trayle
+              Of woodbynd; whose braue Tasseld Flowers
+              (The Sweetnesse of the Woodnimphs Bowres)
+              Shall be the Trappings to adorne,
+              The Swannes, by which thy Barge is borne,
+              Of flowred Flags I'le rob the banke
+              Of water-Cans and King-cups ranck
+              To be the Couering of thy Boate,
+              And on the Streame as thou do'st Floate,               290
+              The _Naiades_ that haunt the deepe,
+              Themselues about thy Barge shall keepe,
+              Recording most delightfull Layes,
+              By Sea Gods written in thy prayse.
+              And in what place thou hapst to land,
+              There the gentle Siluery sand,
+              Shall soften, curled with the Aier
+              As sensible of thy repayre:
+              This my deare loue I'le doe for thee,
+              So Thou'lt leaue him and goe with me:                  300
+
+                _Cleon._ Tush Nimphe his Swannes will prove but Geese,
+              His Barge drinke water like a Fleece;
+              A Boat is base, I'le thee prouide,
+              A Chariot, wherein _Ioue_ may ride;
+              In which when brauely thou art borne,
+              Thou shalt looke like the gloryous morne
+              Vshering the Sunne, and such a one
+              As to this day was neuer none,
+              Of the Rarest Indian Gummes,
+              More pretious then your Balsamummes                    310
+              Which I by Art haue made so hard,
+              That they with Tooles may well be Caru'd
+              To make a Coach of: which shall be
+              Materyalls of this one for thee,
+              And of thy Chariot each small peece
+              Shall inlayd be with Amber Greece,
+              And guilded with the Yellow ore
+              Produc'd from _Tagus_ wealthy shore;
+              In which along the pleasant Lawne,
+              With twelue white Stags thou shalt be drawne,          320
+              Whose brancht palmes of a stately height,
+              With seuerall nosegayes shall be dight;
+              And as thou ryd'st, thy Coach about,
+              For thy strong guard shall runne a Rout,
+              Of Estriges; whose Curled plumes,
+              Sen'sd with thy Chariots rich perfumes,
+              The scent into the Aier shall throw;
+              Whose naked Thyes shall grace the show;
+              Whilst the Woodnimphs and those bred
+              Vpon the mountayns, o'r thy head                       330
+              Shall beare a Canopy of flowers,
+              Tinseld with drops of Aprill showers,
+              Which shall make more glorious showes
+              Then spangles, or your siluer Oas;
+              This bright nimph I'le doe for thee
+              So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
+
+                _Lirope._ Vie and reuie, like Chapmen profer'd,
+              Would't be receaued what you haue offer'd;
+              Ye greater honour cannot doe me,
+              If not building Altars to me:                          340
+              Both by Water and by Land,
+              Bardge and Chariot at command;
+              Swans vpon the Streame to rawe me,
+              Stags vpon the Land to drawe me,
+              In all this Pompe should I be seene,
+              What a pore thing were a Queene:
+              All delights in such excesse,
+              As but yee, who can expresse:
+              Thus mounted should the Nimphes me see,
+              All the troope would follow me,                        350
+              Thinking by this state that I
+              Would asume a Deitie.
+              There be some in loue haue bin,
+              And I may commit that sinne,
+              And if e'r I be in loue,
+              With one of you I feare twill proue,
+              But with which I cannot tell,
+              So my gallant Youths farewell.
+
+
+The third Nimphall
+
+     DORON. NAIJS. CLORIS. CLAIA.
+     DORILVS. CLOE. MERTILLA.
+     FLORIMEL.
+
+     With Nimphes and Forresters.
+
+        _Poetick Raptures, sacred fires,
+        With which _Apollo_ his inspires,
+        This Nimphall gives you; and withall
+        Obserues the Muses Festivall._
+
+    Amongst th' Elizians many mirthfull Feasts,
+    At which the Muses are the certaine guests,
+    Th' obserue one Day with most Emperiall state,
+    To wise _Apollo_ which they dedicate,
+    The Poets God; and to his Alters bring
+    Th' enamel'd Brauery of the beauteous spring,
+    And strew their Bowers with euery precious sweet,
+    Which still wax fresh, most trod on with their feet;
+    With most choice flowers each Nimph doth brade her hayre,
+    And not the mean'st but bauldrick wise doth weare                 10
+    Some goodly Garland, and the most renown'd
+    With curious Roseat Anadems are crown'd.
+    These being come into the place where they
+    Yearely obserue the Orgies to that day,
+    The Muses from their Heliconian spring
+    Their brimfull Mazers to the feasting bring:
+    When with deepe Draughts out of those plenteous Bowles,
+    The iocond Youth haue swild their thirsty soules,
+    They fall enraged with a sacred heat,
+    And when their braines doe once begin to sweat                    20
+    They into braue and Stately numbers breake,
+    And not a word that any one doth speake
+    But tis Prophetick, and so strangely farre
+    In their high fury they transported are,
+    As there's not one, on any thing can straine,
+    But by another answred is againe
+    In the same Rapture, which all sit to heare;
+    When as two Youths that soundly liquord were,
+    _Dorilus_ and _Doron_, two as noble swayns
+    As euer kept on the Elizian playns,                               30
+    First by their signes attention hauing woonne,
+    Thus they the Reuels frolikly begunne.
+
+        Doron. _Come _Dorilus_, let vs be brave,
+      In lofty numbers let vs raue,
+      With Rymes I will inrich thee._
+
+        Dorilus. _Content say I, then bid the base,
+      Our wits shall runne the Wildgoosechase,
+      Spurre vp, or I will swich thee._
+
+        Doron. _The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,
+      And now the day begins to creepe,                               40
+      Vpon the world at leasure._
+
+        Dorilus. _The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaues,
+      The West winde stroaks the velvit leaues
+      And kisses them at pleasure._
+
+        Doron. _The spinners webs twixt spray and spray,
+      The top of euery bush make gay,
+      By filmy coards there dangling._
+
+        Dorilus. _For now the last dayes euening dew
+      Euen to the full it selfe doth shew,
+      Each bough with Pearle bespangling._                            50
+
+        Doron. _O Boy how thy abundant vaine
+      Euen like a Flood breaks from thy braine,
+      Nor can thy Muse be gaged._
+
+        Dorilus. _Why nature forth did neuer bring
+      A man that like to me can sing,
+      If once I be enraged._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ I in my skill
+      Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,
+      Nay beare back to his springing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And I into a Trance most deepe                      60
+      Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe
+      When fain'st they would be singing._
+
+        Doron. _Why _Dorilus_ thou mak'st me mad,
+      And now my wits begin to gad,
+      But sure I know not whither._
+
+        Dorilus. _O _Doron_ let me hug thee then,
+      There neuer was two madder men,
+      Then let vs on together._
+
+        Doron. Hermes _the winged Horse bestrid,
+      And thorow thick and thin he rid,                               70
+      And floundred throw the Fountaine._
+
+        Dorilus. _He spurd the Tit vntill he bled,
+      So that at last he ran his head
+      Against the forked Mountaine,_
+
+        Doron. _How sayst thou, but pyde _Iris_ got
+      Into great _Iunos_ Chariot,
+      I spake with one that saw her._
+
+        Dorilus. _And there the pert and sawcy Elfe,
+      Behau'd her as twere _Iuno's_ selfe,
+      And made the Peacocks draw her._                                80
+
+        Doron. _Ile borrow _Phoebus_ fiery Iades,
+      With which about the world he trades,
+      And put them in my Plow._
+
+        Dorilus. _O thou most perfect frantique man,
+      Yet let thy rage be what it can,
+      Ile be as mad as thou._
+
+        Doron. _Ile to great _Iove_, hap good, hap ill,
+      Though he with Thunder threat to kill,
+      And beg of him a boone._
+
+        Dorilus. _To swerue vp one of _Cynthias_ beames,              90
+      And there to bath thee in the streames.
+      Discouerd in the Moone._
+
+        Doron. _Come frolick Youth and follow me,
+      My frantique boy, and Ile show thee
+      The Countrey of the Fayries._
+
+        Dorilus. _The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow
+      In noonshade of the Mistletow,
+      And where the Phoenix Aryes._
+
+        Doron. _Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,
+      The Caverns where the Winds are bred,                          100
+      Since thus thou talkst of showing._
+
+        Dorilus. _And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,
+      That wondrous and eternall spring
+      Whence th' Ocean hath its flowing._
+
+        Doron. _We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,
+      Where snoring _Morpheus_ doth keepe,
+      And wake the drowsy Groome._
+
+        Dorilus. _Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,
+      The Stooles vpon the Floare we'll throw,
+      And roare about the Roome._                                    110
+
+    The Muses here commanded them to stay,
+    Commending much the caridge of their Lay
+    As greatly pleasd at this their madding Bout,
+    To heare how brauely they had borne it out
+    From first to the last, of which they were right glad,
+    By this they found that _Helicon_ still had
+    That vertue it did anciently retaine
+    When _Orpheus Lynus_ and th' Ascrean Swaine
+    Tooke lusty Rowses, which hath made their Rimes,
+    To last so long to all succeeding times.                         120
+    And now amongst this beauteous Beauie here,
+    Two wanton Nimphes, though dainty ones they were,
+    _Naijs_ and _Cloe_ in their female fits
+    Longing to show the sharpnesse of their wits,
+    Of the _nine Sisters_ speciall leaue doe craue
+    That the next Bout they two might freely haue,
+    Who hauing got the suffrages of all,
+    Thus to their Rimeing instantly they fall.
+
+        Naijs. _Amongst you all let us see
+      Who ist opposes mee,                                           130
+      Come on the proudest she
+      To answere my dittye._
+
+        Cloe. _Why _Naijs_, that am I,
+      Who dares thy pride defie.
+      And that we soone shall try
+      Though thou be witty._
+
+        Naijs. Cloe _I scorne my Rime
+      Should obserue feet or time,
+      Now I fall, then I clime,
+      Where i'st I dare not._                                        140
+
+        Cloe. _Giue thy Invention wing,
+      And let her flert and fling,
+      Till downe the Rocks she ding,
+      For that I care not._
+
+        Naijs. _This presence delights me,
+      My freedome inuites me,
+      The Season excytes me,
+      In Rime to be merry._
+
+        Cloe. _And I beyond measure,
+      Am rauisht with pleasure,                                      150
+      To answer each Ceasure,
+      Untill thou beist weary._
+
+        Naijs. _Behold the Rosye Dawne,
+      Rises in Tinsild Lawne,
+      And smiling seemes to fawne,
+      Vpon the mountaines._
+
+        Cloe. _Awaked from her Dreames,
+      Shooting foorth goulden Beames
+      Dansing vpon the Streames
+      Courting the Fountaines._                                      160
+
+        Naijs. _These more then sweet Showrets,
+      Intice vp these Flowrets,
+      To trim vp our Bowrets,
+      Perfuming our Coats._
+
+        Cloe. _Whilst the Birds billing
+      Each one with his Dilling
+      The thickets still filling
+      With Amorous Noets._
+
+        Naijs. _The Bees vp in hony rould,
+      More then their thighes can hould,                             170
+      Lapt in their liquid gould,
+      Their Treasure vs Bringing._
+
+        Cloe. _To these Rillets purling
+      Vpon the stones Curling,
+      And oft about wherling,
+      Dance tow'ard their springing._
+
+        Naijs. _The Wood-Nimphes sit singing,
+      Each Groue with notes ringing
+      Whilst fresh Ver is flinging
+      Her Bounties abroad._                                          180
+
+        Cloe. _So much as the Turtle,
+      Upon the low Mertle,
+      To the meads fertle,
+      Her cares doth unload._
+
+        Naijs. _Nay 'tis a world to see,
+      In euery bush and Tree,
+      The Birds with mirth and glee,
+      Woo'd as they woe._
+
+        Cloe. _The Robin and the Wren,
+      Every Cocke with his Hen,                                      190
+      Why should not we and men,
+      Doe as they doe._
+
+        Naijs. _The Faires are hopping,
+      The small Flowers cropping,
+      And with dew dropping,
+      Skip thorow the Greaues._
+
+        Cloe. _At Barly-breake they play
+      Merrily all the day,
+      At night themselues they lay
+      Vpon the soft leaues._                                         200
+
+        Naijs. _The gentle winds sally,
+      Vpon every Valley,
+      And many times dally
+      And wantonly sport._
+
+        Cloe. _About the fields tracing,
+      Each other in chasing,
+      And often imbracing,
+      In amorous sort._
+
+        Naijs. _And Eccho oft doth tell
+      Wondrous things from her Cell,                                 210
+      As her what chance befell,
+      Learning to prattle._
+
+        Cloe. _And now she sits and mocks
+      The Shepherds and their flocks,
+      And the Heards from the Rocks
+      Keeping their Cattle._
+
+    When to these Maids the Muses silence cry,
+    For 'twas the opinion of the Company,
+    That were not these two taken of, that they
+    Would in their Conflict wholly spend the day.                    220
+    When as the Turne to _Florimel_ next came,
+    A Nimph for Beauty of especiall name,
+    Yet was she not so Iolly as the rest:
+    And though she were by her companions prest,
+    Yet she by no intreaty would be wrought
+    To sing, as by th' Elizian Lawes she ought:
+    When two bright Nimphes that her companions were,
+    And of all other onely held her deare,
+    Mild _Claris_ and _Mertilla_, with faire speech
+    Their most beloued _Florimel_ beseech,                           230
+    T'obserue the Muses, and the more to wooe her,
+    They take their turnes, and thus they sing vnto her.
+
+        Cloris. _Sing, _Florimel_, O sing, and wee
+      Our whole wealth will giue to thee,
+      We'll rob the brim of euery Fountaine,
+      Strip the sweets from euery Mountaine,
+      We will sweepe the curled valleys,
+      Brush the bancks that mound our allyes,
+      We will muster natures dainties
+      When she wallowes in her plentyes,                             240
+      The lushyous smell of euery flower
+      New washt by an Aprill shower,
+      The Mistresse of her store we'll make thee
+      That she for her selfe shall take thee;
+      Can there be a dainty thing,
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._
+
+        Mertilla. _When the dew in May distilleth,
+      And the Earths rich bosome filleth,
+      And with Pearle embrouds each Meadow,
+      We will make them like a widow,                                250
+      And in all their Beauties dresse thee,
+      And of all their spoiles possesse thee,
+      With all the bounties Zephyre brings,
+      Breathing on the yearely springs,
+      The gaudy bloomes of euery Tree
+      In their most beauty when they be,
+      What is here that may delight thee,
+      Or to pleasure may excite thee,
+      Can there be a dainty thing
+      That's not thine if thou wilt sing._                           260
+
+    But _Florimel_ still sullenly replyes
+    I will not sing at all, let that suffice:
+    When as a Nimph one of the merry ging
+    Seeing she no way could be wonne to sing;
+    Come, come, quoth she, ye vtterly vndoe her
+    With your intreaties, and your reuerence to her;
+    For praise nor prayers, she careth not a pin;
+    They that our froward _Florimel_ would winne,
+    Must worke another way, let me come to her,
+    Either Ile make her sing, or Ile vndoe her.                      270
+
+        Claia. Florimel _I thus coniure thee,
+      Since their gifts cannot alure thee;
+      By stampt Garlick, that doth stink
+      Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,
+      By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet
+      As any Clownes or Carriers feet,
+      By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels
+      Raysing blisters like the measels,
+      By the rough Burbreeding docks,
+      Rancker then the oldest Fox,                                   280
+      By filthy Hemblock, poysning more
+      Then any vlcer or old sore,
+      By the Cockle in the corne,
+      That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,
+      By Hempe in water that hath layne,
+      By whose stench the Fish are slayne,
+      By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,
+      If you haue a minde to cast,
+      May all filthy stinking Weeds
+      That e'r bore leafe, or e'r had seeds,_                        290
+      Florimel _be giuen to thee,
+      If thou'lt not sing as well as wee._
+
+    At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,
+    Amongst the rest the beauteous _Florimel_,
+    (Pleasd with the spell from _Claia_ that came,
+    A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)
+    As gamesome growes as any of them all,
+    And to this ditty instantly doth fall.
+
+        Florimel. _How in my thoughts should I contriue
+      The Image I am framing,                                        300
+      Which is so farre superlatiue,
+      As tis beyond all naming;
+      I would _Ioue_ of my counsell make,
+      And haue his judgement in it,
+      But that I doubt he would mistake
+      How rightly to begin it,
+      It must be builded in the Ayre,
+      And tis my thoughts must doo it,
+      And onely they must be the stayre
+      From earth to mount me to it,                                  310
+      For of my Sex I frame my Lay,
+      Each houre, our selues forsaking,
+      How should I then finde out the way
+      To this my vndertaking,
+      When our weake Fancies working still,
+      Yet changing every minnit,
+      Will shew that it requires some skill,
+      Such difficulty's in it.
+      We would things, yet we know not what,
+      And let our will be granted,                                   320
+      Yet instantly we finde in that
+      Something vnthought of wanted:
+      Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,
+      As with our motions varry,
+      Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,
+      With us they neuer tarry:
+      Some worldly crosse doth still attend,
+      What long we haue in spinning,
+      And e'r we fully get the end
+      We lose of our beginning.                                      330
+      Our pollicies so peevish are,
+      That with themselues they wrangle,
+      And many times become the snare
+      That soonest vs intangle;
+      For that the Loue we beare our Friends
+      Though nere so strongly grounded,
+      Hath in it certaine oblique ends
+      If to the bottome sounded:
+      Our owne well wishing making it,
+      A pardonable Treason;                                          340
+      For that is deriud from witt,
+      And vnderpropt with reason.
+      For our Deare selues beloued sake
+      (Euen in the depth of passion)
+      Our Center though our selues we make,
+      Yet is not that our station;
+      For whilst our Browes ambitious be
+      And youth at hand awayts vs,
+      It is a pretty thing to see
+      How finely Beautie cheats vs,                                  350
+      And whilst with tyme we tryfling stand
+      To practise Antique graces
+      Age with a pale and withered hand
+      Drawes Furowes in our faces._
+
+    When they which so desirous were before
+    To hear her sing; desirous are far more
+    To haue her cease; and call to haue her stayd
+    For she to much alredy had bewray'd.
+    And as the _thrice three Sisters_ thus had grac'd
+    Their Celebration, and themselues had plac'd                     360
+    Vpon a Violet banck, in order all
+    Where they at will might view the Festifall
+    The Nimphs and all the lusty youth that were
+    At this braue Nimphall, by them honored there,
+    To Gratifie the heauenly Gerles againe
+    Lastly prepare in state to entertaine
+    Those sacred Sisters, fairely and confer,
+    On each of them, their prayse particular
+    And thus the Nimphes to the nine Muses sung.
+    When as the Youth and Forresters among                           370
+    That well prepared for this businesse were,
+    Become the _Chorus_, and thus sung they there.
+
+        Nimphes. Clio _then first of those Celestiall nine
+      That daily offer to the sacred shryne,
+      Of wise _Apollo_; Queene of Stories,
+      Thou that vindicat'st the glories
+      Of passed ages, and renewst
+      Their acts which euery day thou viewst,
+      And from a lethargy dost keepe
+      Old nodding time, else prone to sleepe._                       380
+
+        Chorus. Clio _O craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs, for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Melpomine _thou melancholly Maid
+      Next, to wise _Phoebus_ we inuoke thy ayd,
+      In Buskins that dost stride the Stage,
+      And in thy deepe distracted rage,
+      In blood-shed that dost take delight,
+      Thy obiect the most fearfull sight,                            390
+      That louest the sighes, the shreekes, and sounds
+      Of horrors, that arise from wounds._
+
+        Chorus. _Sad Muse, O craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Comick _Thalia_ then we come to thee,
+      Thou mirthfull Mayden, onely that in glee
+      And loues deceits, thy pleasure tak'st,
+      Of which thy varying Scene that mak'st                         400
+      And in thy nimble Sock do'st stirre
+      Loude laughter through the Theater,
+      That with the Peasant mak'st the sport,
+      As well as with the better sort._
+
+        Chorus. Thalia _craue of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier;
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life, and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. Euterpe _next to thee we will proceed,
+      That first sound'st out the Musick on the Reed,                410
+      With breath and fingers giu'ng life,
+      To the shrill Cornet and the Fyfe.
+      Teaching euery stop and kaye,
+      To those vpon the Pipe that playe,
+      Those which Wind-Instruments we call
+      Or soft, or lowd, or greate, or small,_
+
+        Chorus. Euterpe _aske of _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    420
+
+        Nimphes. Terpsichore _that of the Lute and Lyre,
+      And Instruments that sound with Cords and wyere,
+      That art the Mistres, to commaund
+      The touch of the most Curious hand,
+      When euery Quauer doth Imbrace
+      His like in a true Diapase,
+      And euery string his sound doth fill
+      Toucht with the Finger or the Quill._
+
+        Chorus. Terpsichore, _craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier                        430
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Erato_ wise muse on thee we call,
+      In Lynes to vs that do'st demonstrate all,
+      Which neatly, with thy staffe and Bowe,
+      Do'st measure, and proportion showe;
+      Motion and Gesture that dost teach
+      That euery height and depth canst reach,
+      And do'st demonstrate by thy Art
+      What nature else would not Impart._                            440
+
+        Chorus. _Deare _Erato_ craue _Phebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _To thee then braue _Caliope_ we come
+      Thou that maintain'st, the Trumpet, and the Drum;
+      The neighing Steed that louest to heare,
+      Clashing of Armes doth please thine eare,
+      In lofty Lines that do'st rehearse
+      Things worthy of a thundring verse,                            450
+      And at no tyme are heard to straine,
+      On ought that suits a Common vayne._
+
+        Chorus. Caliope_, craue _Phebus_ to inspire,
+      Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Then _Polyhymnia_ most delicious Mayd,
+      In Rhetoricks Flowers that art arayd,
+      In Tropes and Figures, richly drest,
+      The Fyled Phrase that louest best,                             460
+      That art all Elocution, and
+      The first that gau'st to vnderstand
+      The force of wordes in order plac'd
+      And with a sweet deliuery grac'd._
+
+        Chorus. _Sweet Muse perswade our _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._
+
+        Nimphes. _Lofty _Vrania_ then we call to thee,
+      To whom the Heauens for euer opened be,                        470
+      Thou th' Asterismes by name dost call,
+      And shewst when they doe rise and fall
+      Each Planets force, and dost diuine
+      His working, seated in his Signe,
+      And how the starry Frame still roules
+      Betwixt the fixed stedfast Poles._
+
+        Chorus. Vrania _aske of _Phoebus_ to inspire
+      Vs for his Altars with his holiest fire,
+      And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
+      Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes._                    480
+
+
+The fourth Nimphall
+
+CLORIS and MERTILLA.
+
+                _Chaste _Cloris_ doth disclose the shames
+                Of the Felician frantique Dames,_
+                Mertilla _striues t' apease her woe,
+                To golden wishes then they goe._
+
+              _Mertilla._ Why how now _Cloris_, what, thy head
+            Bound with forsaken Willow?
+            Is the cold ground become thy bed?
+            The grasse become thy Pillow?
+            O let not those life-lightning eyes
+            In this sad vayle be shrowded,
+            Which into mourning puts the Skyes,
+            To see them ouer-clowded.
+
+              _Cloris._ O my _Mertilla_ doe not praise
+            These Lampes so dimly burning,                            10
+            Such sad and sullen lights as these
+            Were onely made for mourning:
+            Their obiects are the barren Rocks
+            With aged Mosse o'r shaded;
+            Now whilst the Spring layes forth her Locks
+            With blossomes brauely braded.
+
+              _Mertilla._ O _Cloris_, Can there be a Spring,
+            O my deare Nimph, there may not,
+            Wanting thine eyes it forth to bring,
+            Without which Nature cannot:                              20
+            Say what it is that troubleth thee
+            Encreast by thy concealing,
+            Speake; sorrowes many times we see
+            Are lesned by reuealing.
+
+              _Cloris._ Being of late too vainely bent
+            And but at too much leisure;
+            Not with our Groves and Downes content,
+            But surfetting in pleasure;
+            Felicia's Fields I would goe see,
+            Where fame to me reported,                                30
+            The choyce Nimphes of the world to be
+            From meaner beauties sorted;
+            Hoping that I from them might draw
+            Some graces to delight me,
+            But there such monstrous shapes I saw,
+            That to this houre affright me.
+            Throw the thick Hayre, that thatch'd their Browes,
+            Their eyes vpon me stared,
+            Like to those raging frantique Froes
+            For _Bacchus_ Feasts prepared:                            40
+            Their Bodies, although straight by kinde,
+            Yet they so monstrous make them,
+            That for huge Bags blowne vp with wind,
+            You very well may take them.
+            Their Bowels in their Elbowes are,
+            Whereon depend their Panches,
+            And their deformed Armes by farre
+            Made larger than their Hanches:
+            For their behauiour and their grace,
+            Which likewise should haue priz'd them,                   50
+            Their manners were as beastly base
+            As th' rags that so disguisd them;
+            All Anticks, all so impudent,
+            So fashon'd out of fashion,
+            As blacke _Cocytus_ vp had sent
+            Her Fry into this nation,
+            Whose monstrousnesse doth so perplex,
+            Of Reason and depriues me,
+            That for their sakes I loath my sex,
+            Which to this sadnesse driues me.                         60
+
+              _Mertilla._ O my deare _Cloris_ be not sad,
+            Nor with these Furies danted,
+            But let these female fooles be mad,
+            With Hellish pride inchanted;
+            Let not thy noble thoughts descend
+            So low as their affections;
+            Whom neither counsell can amend,
+            Nor yet the Gods corrections:
+            Such mad folks ne'r let vs bemoane,
+            But rather scorne their folly,                            70
+            And since we two are here alone,
+            To banish melancholly,
+            Leaue we this lowly creeping vayne
+            Not worthy admiration,
+            And in a braue and lofty strayne,
+            Lets exercise our passion,
+            With wishes of each others good,
+            From our abundant treasures,
+            And in this iocund sprightly mood:
+            Thus alter we our measures.                               80
+
+      _Mertilla._ O I could wish this place were strewd with Roses,
+    And that this Banck were thickly thrumd with Grasse
+    As soft as Sleaue, or Sarcenet euer was,
+    Whereon my _Cloris_ her sweet selfe reposes.
+
+      _Cloris._ O that these Dewes Rosewater were for thee,
+    These Mists Perfumes that hang vpon these thicks,
+    And that the Winds were all Aromaticks,
+    Which, if my wish could make them, they should bee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that my Bottle one whole Diamond were,
+    So fild with Nectar that a Flye might sup,                        90
+    And at one draught that thou mightst drinke it vp,
+    Yet a Carouse not good enough I feare.
+
+      _Cloris._ That all the Pearle, the Seas, or Indias haue
+    Were well dissolu'd, and thereof made a Lake,
+    Thou there in bathing, and I by to take
+    Pleasure to see thee cleerer than the Waue.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the Hornes of all the Heards we see,
+    Were of fine gold, or else that euery horne
+    Were like to that one of the Vnicorne,
+    And of all these, not one but were thy Fee.                      100
+
+      _Cloris._ O that their Hooues were Iuory, or some thing,
+    Then the pur'st Iuory farre more Christalline,
+    Fild with the food wherewith the Gods doe dine,
+    To keepe thy Youth in a continuall Spring.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that the sweets of all the Flowers that grow,
+    The labouring ayre would gather into one,
+    In Gardens, Fields, nor Meadowes leauing none,
+    And all their Sweetnesse vpon thee would throw.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay that those sweet harmonious straines we heare,
+    Amongst the liuely Birds melodious Layes,                        110
+    As they recording sit vpon the Sprayes,
+    Were houering still for Musick at thine eare.
+
+      _Mertilla._ O that thy name were caru'd on euery Tree,
+    That as these plants still great, and greater grow,
+    Thy name deare Nimph might be enlarged so,
+    That euery Groue and Coppis might speake thee.
+
+      _Cloris._ Nay would thy name vpon their Rynds were set,
+    And by the Nimphes so oft and lowdly spoken,
+    As that the Ecchoes to that language broken
+    Thy happy name might hourely counterfet.                         120
+
+      _Mertilla._ O let the Spring still put sterne winter by,
+    And in rich Damaske let her Reuell still,
+    As it should doe if I might haue my will,
+    That thou mightst still walke on her Tapistry;
+    And thus since Fate no longer time alowes
+    Vnder this broad and shady Sicamore,
+    Where now we sit, as we haue oft before;
+    Those yet vnborne shall offer vp their Vowes.
+
+
+The fift Nimphall
+
+CLAIA, LELIPA, CLARINAX a Hermit.
+
+
+      _Of Garlands, Anadems, and Wreathes,
+      This Nimphall nought but sweetnesse breathes,
+      Presents you with delicious Posies,
+      And with powerfull Simples closes._
+
+      _Claia._ See where old _Clarinax_ is set,
+    His sundry Simples sorting,
+    From whose experience we may get
+    What worthy is reporting.
+    Then _Lelipa_ let vs draw neere,
+    Whilst he his weedes is weathering,
+    I see some powerfull Simples there
+    That he hath late bin gathering.
+    Hail gentle Hermit, _Iove_ thee speed,
+    And haue thee in his keeping,                                     10
+    And euer helpe thee at thy need,
+    Be thou awake or sleeping.
+
+      _Clarinax._ Ye payre of most Celestiall lights,
+    O Beauties three times burnisht,
+    Who could expect such heauenly wights
+    With Angels features furnisht;
+    What God doth guide you to this place,
+    To blesse my homely Bower?
+    It cannot be but this high grace
+    Proceeds from some high power;                                    20
+    The houres like hand-maids still attend,
+    Disposed at your pleasure,
+    Ordayned to noe other end
+    But to awaite your leasure;
+    The Deawes drawne vp into the Aer,
+    And by your breathes perfumed,
+    In little Clouds doe houer there
+    As loath to be consumed:
+    The Aer moues not but as you please,
+    So much sweet Nimphes it owes you,                                30
+    The winds doe cast them to their ease,
+    And amorously inclose you.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Be not too lauish of thy praise,
+    Thou good Elizian Hermit,
+    Lest some to heare such words as these,
+    Perhaps may flattery tearme it;
+    But of your Simples something say,
+    Which may discourse affoord vs,
+    We know your knowledge lyes that way,
+    With subiects you haue stor'd vs.                                 40
+
+      _Claia._ We know for Physick yours you get,
+    Which thus you heere are sorting,
+    And vpon garlands we are set,
+    With Wreathes and Posyes sporting:
+
+      _Lelipa._ The Chaplet and the Anadem,
+    The curled Tresses crowning,
+    We looser Nimphes delight in them,
+    Not in your Wreathes renowning.
+
+      _Clarinax._ The Garland long agoe was worne,
+    As Time pleased to bestow it,                                     50
+    The Lawrell onely to adorne
+    The Conquerer and the Poet.
+    The Palme his due, who vncontrould,
+    On danger looking grauely,
+    When Fate had done the worst it could,
+    Who bore his Fortunes brauely.
+    Most worthy of the Oken Wreath
+    The Ancients him esteemed,
+    Who in a Battle had from death
+    Some man of worth redeemed.                                       60
+    About his temples Grasse they tye,
+    Himselfe that so behaued
+    In some strong Seedge by th' Enemy,
+    A City that hath saued.
+    A Wreath of Vervaine Herhauts weare,
+    Amongst our Garlands named,
+    Being sent that dreadfull newes to beare,
+    Offensiue warre proclaimed.
+    The Signe of Peace who first displayes,
+    The Oliue Wreath possesses:                                       70
+    The Louer with the Myrtle Sprayes
+    Adornes his crisped Tresses.
+    In Loue the sad forsaken wight
+    The Willow Garland weareth:
+    The Funerall man befitting night,
+    The balefull Cipresse beareth.
+    To _Pan_ we dedicate the Pine,
+    Whose Slips the Shepherd graceth:
+    Againe the Ivie and the Vine
+    On his, swolne _Bacchus_ placeth.                                 80
+
+      _Claia._ The Boughes and Sprayes, of which you tell,
+    By you are rightly named,
+    But we with those of pretious smell
+    And colours are enflamed;
+    The noble Ancients to excite
+    Men to doe things worth crowning,
+    Not vnperformed left a Rite,
+    To heighten their renowning:
+    But they that those rewards deuis'd,
+    And those braue wights that wore them                             90
+    By these base times, though poorely priz'd,
+    Yet Hermit we adore them.
+    The store of euery fruitfull Field
+    We Nimphes at will possessing,
+    From that variety they yeeld
+    Get flowers for euery dressing:
+    Of which a Garland Ile compose,
+    Then busily attend me.
+    These flowers I for that purpose chose,
+    But where I misse amend me.                                      100
+
+      _Clarinax._ Well _Claia_ on with your intent,
+    Lets see how you will weaue it,
+    Which done, here for a monument
+    I hope with me, you'll leaue it.
+
+      _Claia._ Here Damaske Roses, white and red,
+    Out of my lap first take I,
+    Which still shall runne along the thred,
+    My chiefest Flower this make I:
+    Amongst these Roses in a row,
+    Next place I Pinks in plenty,                                    110
+    These double Daysyes then for show,
+    And will not this be dainty.
+    The pretty Pansy then Ile tye
+    Like Stones some Chaine inchasing,
+    And next to them their neere Alye,
+    The purple Violet placing.
+    The curious choyce, Clove Iuly-flower,
+    Whose kinds hight the Carnation
+    For sweetnesse of most soueraine power
+    Shall helpe my Wreath to fashion.                                120
+    Whose sundry cullers of one kinde
+    First from one Root derived,
+    Them in their seuerall sutes Ile binde,
+    My Garland so contriued;
+    A course of Cowslips then I'll stick,
+    And here and there though sparely
+    The pleasant Primrose downe Ile prick
+    Like Pearles, which will show rarely:
+    Then with these Marygolds Ile make
+    My Garland somewhat swelling,                                    130
+    These Honysuckles then Ile take,
+    Whose sweets shall helpe their smelling:
+    The Lilly and the Flower delice,
+    For colour much contenting,
+    For that, I them doe only prize,
+    They are but pore in senting:
+    The Daffadill most dainty is
+    To match with these in meetnesse;
+    The Columbyne compar'd to this,
+    All much alike for sweetnesse.                                   140
+    These in their natures onely are
+    Fit to embosse the border,
+    Therefore Ile take especiall care
+    To place them in their order:
+    Sweet-Williams, Campions, Sops-in-Wine
+    One by another neatly:
+    Thus haue I made this Wreath of mine,
+    And finished it featly.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Your Garland thus you finisht haue,
+    Then as we haue attended                                         150
+    Your leasure, likewise let me craue
+    I may the like be friended.
+    Those gaudy garish Flowers you chuse,
+    In which our Nimphes are flaunting,
+    Which they at Feasts and Brydals vse,
+    The sight and smell inchanting:
+    A Chaplet me of Hearbs Ile make
+    Then which though yours be brauer,
+    Yet this of myne I'le vndertake
+    Shall not be short in fauour.                                    160
+    With Basill then I will begin,
+    Whose scent is wondrous pleasing,
+    This Eglantine I'le next put in,
+    The sense with sweetnes seasing.
+    Then in my Lauender I'le lay,
+    Muscado put among it,
+    And here and there a leafe of Bay,
+    Which still shall runne along it.
+    Germander, Marieram, and Tyme
+    Which vsed are for strewing,                                     170
+    With Hisop as an hearbe most pryme
+    Here in my wreath bestowing.
+    Then Balme and Mynt helps to make vp
+    My Chaplet, and for Tryall,
+    Costmary that so likes the Cup,
+    And next it Penieryall
+    Then Burnet shall beare vp with this
+    Whose leafe I greatly fansy,
+    Some Camomile doth not amisse,
+    With Sauory and some Tansy,                                      180
+    Then heere and there I'le put a sprig
+    Of Rosemary into it
+    Thus not too little or too big
+    Tis done if I can doe it.
+
+      _Clarinax._ _Claia_ your Garland is most gaye,
+    Compos'd of curious Flowers,
+    And so most louely _Lelipa_,
+    This Chaplet is of yours,
+    In goodly Gardens yours you get
+    Where you your laps haue laded;                                  190
+    My symples are by Nature set,
+    In Groues and Fields vntraded.
+    Your Flowers most curiously you twyne,
+    Each one his place supplying.
+    But these rough harsher Hearbs of mine,
+    About me rudely lying,
+    Of which some dwarfish Weeds there be,
+    Some of a larger stature,
+    Some by experience as we see,
+    Whose names expresse their nature,                               200
+    Heere is my Moly of much fame,
+    In Magicks often vsed,
+    Mugwort and Night-shade for the same
+    But not by me abused;
+    Here Henbane, Popy, Hemblock here,
+    Procuring Deadly sleeping,
+    Which I doe minister with Feare,
+    Not fit for each mans keeping.
+    Heere holy Veruayne, and heere Dill,
+    Against witchcraft much auailing.                                210
+    Here Horhound gainst the Mad dogs ill
+    By biting, neuer failing.
+    Here Mandrake that procureth loue,
+    In poysning philters mixed,
+    And makes the Barren fruitfull proue,
+    The Root about them fixed.
+    Inchaunting Lunary here lyes
+    In Sorceries excelling,
+    And this is Dictam, which we prize
+    Shot shafts and Darts expelling,                                 220
+    Here Saxifrage against the stone
+    That Powerfull is approued,
+    Here Dodder by whose helpe alone,
+    Ould Agues are remoued
+    Here Mercury, here Helibore,
+    Ould Vlcers mundifying,
+    And Shepheards-Purse the Flux most sore,
+    That helpes by the applying;
+    Here wholsome Plantane, that the payne
+    Of Eyes and Eares appeases;                                      230
+    Here cooling Sorrell that againe
+    We vse in hot diseases:
+    The medcinable Mallow here,
+    Asswaging sudaine Tumors,
+    The iagged Polypodium there,
+    To purge ould rotten humors,
+    Next these here Egremony is,
+    That helpes the Serpents byting,
+    The blessed Betony by this,
+    Whose cures deseruen writing:                                    240
+    This All-heale, and so nam'd of right,
+    New wounds so quickly healing,
+    A thousand more I could recyte,
+    Most worthy of Reuealing,
+    But that I hindred am by Fate,
+    And busnesse doth preuent me,
+    To cure a mad man, which of late
+    Is from Felicia sent me.
+
+      _Claia._ Nay then thou hast inough to doe,
+    We pity thy enduring,                                            250
+    For they are there infected soe,
+    That they are past thy curing.
+
+
+The sixt Nimphall
+
+SILVIVS, HALCIVS, MELANTHVS.
+
+    _A Woodman, Fisher, and a Swaine
+      This Nimphall through with mirth maintaine,
+    Whose pleadings so the Nimphes doe please,
+      That presently they giue them Bayes._
+
+    Cleere had the day bin from the dawne,
+    All chequerd was the Skye,
+    Thin Clouds like Scarfs of Cobweb Lawne
+    Vayld Heauen's most glorious eye.
+    The Winde had no more strength then this,
+    That leasurely it blew,
+    To make one leafe the next to kisse,
+    That closly by it grew.
+    The Rils that on the Pebbles playd,
+    Might now be heard at will;                                       10
+    This world they onely Musick made,
+    Else euerything was still.
+    The Flowers like braue embraudred Gerles,
+    Lookt as they much desired,
+    To see whose head with orient Pearles,
+    Most curiously was tyred;
+    And to it selfe the subtle Ayre,
+    Such souerainty assumes,
+    That it receiu'd too large a share
+    From natures rich perfumes.                                       20
+    When the Elizian Youth were met,
+    That were of most account,
+    And to disport themselues were set
+    Vpon an easy Mount:
+    Neare which, of stately Firre and Pine
+    There grew abundant store,
+    The Tree that weepeth Turpentine,
+    And shady Sicamore.
+    Amongst this merry youthfull trayne
+    A Forrester they had,                                             30
+    A Fisher, and a Shepheards swayne
+    A liuely Countrey Lad:
+    Betwixt which three a question grew,
+    Who should the worthiest be,
+    Which violently they pursue,
+    Nor stickled would they be.
+    That it the Company doth please
+    This ciuill strife to stay,
+    Freely to heare what each of these
+    For his braue selfe could say:                                    40
+    When first this Forrester (of all)
+    That _Silvius_ had to name,
+    To whom the Lot being cast doth fall,
+    Doth thus begin the Game.
+
+      _Silvius._ For my profession then, and for the life I lead,
+    All others to excell, thus for my selfe I plead;
+    I am the Prince of sports, the Forrest is my Fee,
+    He's not vpon the Earth for pleasure liues like me;
+    The Morne no sooner puts her rosye Mantle on,
+    But from my quyet Lodge I instantly am gone,                      50
+    When the melodious Birds from euery Bush and Bryer,
+    Of the wilde spacious Wasts, make a continuall quire;
+    The motlied Meadowes then, new vernisht with the Sunne
+    Shute vp their spicy sweets vpon the winds that runne,
+    In easly ambling Gales, and softly seeme to pace,
+    That it the longer might their lushiousnesse imbrace:
+    I am clad in youthfull Greene, I other colour, scorne,
+    My silken Bauldrick beares my Beugle, or my Horne,
+    Which setting to my Lips, I winde so lowd and shrill,
+    As makes the Ecchoes showte from euery neighbouring Hill:         60
+    My Doghooke at my Belt, to which my Lyam's tyde,
+    My Sheafe of Arrowes by, my Woodknife at my Syde,
+    My Crosse-bow in my Hand, my Gaffle or my Rack
+    To bend it when I please, or it I list to slack,
+    My Hound then in my Lyam, I by the Woodmans art
+    Forecast, where I may lodge the goodly Hie-palm'd Hart,
+    To viewe the grazing Heards, so sundry times I vse,
+    Where by the loftiest Head I know my Deare to chuse,
+    And to vnheard him then, I gallop o'r the ground
+    Vpon my wel-breath'd Nag, to cheere my earning Hound.             70
+    Sometime I pitch my Toyles the Deare aliue to take,
+    Sometime I like the Cry, the deep-mouth'd Kennell make,
+    Then vnderneath my Horse, I staulke my game to strike,
+    And with a single Dog to hunt him hurt, I like.
+    The Siluians are to me true subiects, I their King,
+    The stately Hart, his Hind doth to my presence bring,
+    The Buck his loued Doe, the Roe his tripping Mate,
+    Before me to my Bower, whereas I sit in State.
+    The Dryads, Hamadryads, the Satyres and the Fawnes
+    Oft play at Hyde and Seeke before me on the Lawnes,               80
+    The frisking Fayry oft when horned Cinthia shines
+    Before me as I walke dance wanton Matachynes,
+    The numerous feathered flocks that the wild Forrests haunt
+    Their Siluan songs to me, in cheerefull dittyes chaunte,
+    The Shades like ample Sheelds, defend me from the Sunne,
+    Through which me to refresh the gentle Riuelets runne,
+    No little bubling Brook from any Spring that falls
+    But on the Pebbles playes me pretty Madrigals.
+    I' th' morne I clime the Hills, where wholsome winds do blow,
+    At Noone-tyde to the Vales, and shady Groues below,               90
+    T'wards Euening I againe the Chrystall Floods frequent,
+    In pleasure thus my life continually is spent.
+    As Princes and great Lords haue Pallaces, so I
+    Haue in the Forrests here, my Hall and Gallery
+    The tall and stately Woods, which vnderneath are Plaine,
+    The Groues my Gardens are, the Heath and Downes againe
+    My wide and spacious walkes, then say all what ye can,
+    The Forrester is still your only gallant man.
+
+    He of his speech scarce made an end,
+    But him they load with prayse,                                   100
+    The Nimphes most highly him commend,
+    And vow to giue him Bayes:
+    He's now cryde vp of euery one,
+    And who but onely he,
+    The Forrester's the man alone,
+    The worthyest of the three.
+    When some then th' other farre more stayd,
+    Wil'd them a while to pause,
+    For there was more yet to be sayd,
+    That might deserve applause,                                     110
+    When _Halcius_ his turne next plyes,
+    And silence hauing wonne,
+    Roome for the fisher man he cryes,
+    And thus his Plea begunne.
+
+      _Halcius._ No Forrester, it so must not be borne away,
+    But heare what for himselfe the Fisher first can say,
+    The Chrystall current Streames continually I keepe,
+    Where euery Pearle-pau'd Foard, and euery Blew-eyd deepe
+    With me familiar are; when in my Boate being set,
+    My Oare I take in hand, my Augle and my Net                      120
+    About me; like a Prince my selfe in state I steer,
+    Now vp, now downe the Streame, now am I here, now ther,
+    The Pilot and the Fraught my selfe; and at my ease
+    Can land me where I list, or in what place I please,
+    The Siluer-scaled Sholes, about me in the Streames,
+    As thick as ye discerne the Atoms in the Beames,
+    Neare to the shady Banck where slender Sallowes grow,
+    And Willows their shag'd tops downe t'wards the waters bow
+    I shove in with my Boat to sheeld me from the heat,
+    Where chusing from my Bag, some prou'd especiall bayt,           130
+    The goodly well growne Trout I with my Angle strike,
+    And with my bearded Wyer I take the rauenous Pike,
+    Of whom when I haue hould, he seldome breakes away
+    Though at my Lynes full length, soe long I let him play
+    Till by my hand I finde he well-nere wearyed be,
+    When softly by degrees I drawe him vp to me.
+    The lusty Samon to, I oft with Angling take,
+    Which me aboue the rest most Lordly sport doth make,
+    Who feeling he is caught, such Frisks and bounds doth fetch,
+    And by his very strength my Line soe farre doth stretch,         140
+    As draws my floating Corcke downe to the very ground,
+    And wresting at my Rod, doth make my Boat turne round.
+    I neuer idle am, some tyme I bayt my Weeles,
+    With which by night I take the dainty siluer Eeles,
+    And with my Draughtnet then, I sweepe the streaming Flood,
+    And to my Tramell next, and Cast-net from the Mud,
+    I beate the Scaly brood, noe hower I idely spend,
+    But wearied with my worke I bring the day to end:
+    The Naijdes and Nymphes that in the Riuers keepe,
+    Which take into their care, the store of euery deepe,            150
+    Amongst the Flowery flags, the Bullrushes and Reed,
+    That of the Spawne haue charge (abundantly to breed)
+    Well mounted vpon Swans, their naked bodys lend
+    To my discerning eye, and on my Boate attend,
+    And dance vpon the Waues, before me (for my sake)
+    To th' Musick the soft wynd vpon the Reeds doth make
+    And for my pleasure more, the rougher Gods of Seas
+    From _Neptune's_ Court send in the blew Neriades,
+    Which from his bracky Realme vpon the Billowes ride
+    And beare the Riuers backe with euery streaming Tyde,            160
+    Those Billowes gainst my Boate, borne with delightfull Gales,
+    Oft seeming as I rowe to tell me pretty tales,
+    Whilst Ropes of liquid Pearle still load my laboring Oares,
+    As streacht vpon the Streame they stryke me to the Shores:
+    The silent medowes seeme delighted with my Layes,
+    As sitting in my Boate I sing my Lasses praise,
+    Then let them that like, the Forrester vp cry,
+    Your noble Fisher is your only man say I.
+
+    This speech of _Halcius_ turn'd the Tyde,
+    And brought it so about,                                         170
+    That all vpon the Fisher cryde,
+    That he would beare it out;
+    Him for the speech he made, to clap
+    Who lent him not a hand,
+    And said t'would be the Waters hap,
+    Quite to put downe the Land.
+    This while _Melanthus_ silent sits,
+    (For so the Shepheard hight)
+    And hauing heard these dainty wits,
+    Each pleading for his right;                                     180
+    To heare them honor'd in this wise,
+    His patience doth prouoke,
+    When for a Shepheard roome he cryes,
+    And for himselfe thus spoke.
+
+      _Melanthus._ Well Fisher you haue done, and Forrester for you
+    Your Tale is neatly tould, s'are both's to giue you due,
+    And now my turne comes next, then heare a Shepherd speak:
+    My watchfulnesse and care giues day scarce leaue to break,
+    But to the Fields I haste, my folded flock to see,
+    Where when I finde, nor Woolfe, nor Fox, hath iniur'd me,        190
+    I to my Bottle straight, and soundly baste my Throat,
+    Which done, some Country Song or Roundelay I roate
+    So merrily; that to the musick that I make,
+    I Force the Larke to sing ere she be well awake;
+    Then _Baull_ my cut-tayld Curre and I begin to play,
+    He o'r my Shephooke leapes, now th'one, now th'other way,
+    Then on his hinder feet he doth himselfe aduance,
+    I tune, and to my note, my liuely Dog doth dance,
+    Then whistle in my Fist, my fellow Swaynes to call,
+    Downe goe our Hooks and Scrips, and we to Nine-holes fall,       200
+    At Dust-point, or at Quoyts, else are we at it hard,
+    All false and cheating Games, we Shepheards are debard;
+    Suruaying of my sheepe if Ewe or Wether looke
+    As though it were amisse, or with my Curre, or Crooke
+    I take it, and when once I finde what it doth ayle,
+    It hardly hath that hurt, but that my skill can heale;
+    And when my carefull eye, I cast vpon my sheepe
+    I sort them in my Pens, and sorted soe I keepe:
+    Those that are bigst of Boane, I still reserue for breed,
+    My Cullings I put off, or for the Chapman feed.                  210
+    When the Euening doth approach I to my Bagpipe take,
+    And to my Grazing flocks such Musick then I make,
+    That they forbeare to feed; then me a King you see,
+    I playing goe before, my Subiects followe me,
+    My Bell-weather most braue, before the rest doth stalke,
+    The Father of the flocke, and after him doth walke
+    My writhen-headed Ram, with Posyes crowned in pride
+    Fast to his crooked hornes with Rybands neatly ty'd
+    And at our Shepheards Board that's cut out of the ground,
+    My fellow Swaynes and I together at it round,                    220
+    With Greencheese, clouted Cream, with Flawns, and Custards, stord,
+    Whig, Sider, and with Whey, I domineer a Lord,
+    When shering time is come I to the Riuer driue,
+    My goodly well-fleec'd Flocks: (by pleasure thus I thriue)
+    Which being washt at will; vpon the shering day,
+    My wooll I foorth in Loaks, fit for the wynder lay,
+    Which vpon lusty heapes into my Coate I heaue,
+    That in the Handling feeles as soft as any Sleaue,
+    When euery Ewe two Lambes, that yeaned hath that yeare,
+    About her new shorne neck a Chaplet then doth weare;             230
+    My Tarboxe, and my Scrip, my Bagpipe, at my back,
+    My Sheephooke in my hand, what can I say I lacke;
+    He that a Scepter swayd, a sheephooke in his hand,
+    Hath not disdaind to haue, for Shepheards then I stand;
+    Then Forester and you my Fisher cease your strife
+    I say your Shepheard leads your onely merry life,
+
+    They had not cryd the Forester,
+    And Fisher vp before,
+    So much: but now the Nimphes preferre,
+    The Shephard ten tymes more,                                     240
+    And all the Ging goes on his side,
+    Their Minion him they make,
+    To him themselues they all apply'd,
+    And all his partie take;
+    Till some in their discretion cast,
+    Since first the strife begunne,
+    In all that from them there had past
+    None absolutly wonne;
+    That equall honour they should share;
+    And their deserts to showe,                                      250
+    For each a Garland they prepare,
+    Which they on them bestowe,
+    Of all the choisest flowers that weare,
+    Which purposly they gather,
+    With which they Crowne them, parting there,
+    As they came first together.
+
+
+The seuenth Nimphall
+
+FLORIMEL, LELIPA, NAIJS, CODRVS a
+Feriman.
+
+
+          _The Nimphes, the Queene of loue pursue,
+          Which oft doth hide her from their view:
+          But lastly from th' Elizian Nation,
+          She banisht is by Proclamation_.
+
+      _Florimel._ Deare _Lelipa_, where hast thou bin so long,
+    Was't not enough for thee to doe me wrong;
+    To rob me of thy selfe, but with more spight
+    To take my _Naijs_ from me, my delight?
+    Yee lazie Girles, your heads where haue ye layd,
+    Whil'st _Venus_ here her anticke prankes hath playd?
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay _Florimel_, we should of you enquire,
+    The onely Mayden, whom we all admire
+    For Beauty, Wit, and Chastity, that you
+    Amongst the rest of all our Virgin crue,                          10
+    In quest of her, that you so slacke should be,
+    And leaue the charge to Naijs and to me.
+
+      _Florimel._ Y'are much mistaken _Lelipa_, 'twas I,
+    Of all the Nimphes, that first did her descry,
+    At our great Hunting, when as in the Chase
+    Amongst the rest, me thought I saw one face
+    So exceeding faire, and curious, yet vnknowne
+    That I that face not possibly could owne.
+    And in the course, so Goddesse like a gate,
+    Each step so full of maiesty and state;                           20
+    That with my selfe, I thus resolu'd that she
+    Lesse then a Goddesse (surely) could not be:
+    Thus as _Idalia_, stedfastly I ey'd,
+    A little Nimphe that kept close by her side
+    I noted, as vnknowne as was the other,
+    Which _Cupid_ was disguis'd so by his mother.
+    The little purblinde Rogue, if you had seene,
+    You would haue thought he verily had beene
+    One of _Diana's_ Votaries so clad,
+    He euery thing so like a Huntresse had:                           30
+    And she had put false eyes into his head,
+    That very well he might vs all haue sped.
+    And still they kept together in the Reare,
+    But as the Boy should haue shot at the Deare,
+    He shot amongst the Nimphes, which when I saw,
+    Closer vp to them I began to draw;
+    And fell to hearken, when they naught suspecting,
+    Because I seem'd them vtterly neglecting,
+    I heard her say, my little _Cupid_ too't,
+    Now Boy or neuer, at the Beuie shoot,                             40
+    Haue at them _Venus_ quoth the Boy anon,
+    I'le pierce the proud'st, had she a heart of stone:
+    With that I cryde out, Treason, Treason, when
+    The Nimphes that were before, turning agen
+    To vnderstand the meaning of this cry,
+    They out of sight were vanish't presently.
+    Thus but for me, the Mother and the Sonne,
+    Here in Elizium, had vs all vndone.
+
+      _Naijs._ Beleeue me, gentle Maide, 'twas very well,
+    But now heare me my beauteous _Florimel_,                         50
+    Great _Mars_ his Lemman being cryde out here,
+    She to _Felicia_ goes, still to be neare
+    Th' Elizian Nimphes, for at vs is her ayme,
+    The fond _Felicians_ are her common game.
+    I vpon pleasure idly wandring thither,
+    Something worth laughter from those fooles to gather,
+    Found her, who thus had lately beene surpriz'd,
+    Fearing the like, had her faire selfe disguis'd
+    Like an old Witch, and gaue out to haue skill
+    In telling Fortunes either good or ill;                           60
+    And that more nearly she with them might close,
+    She cut the Cornes, of dainty Ladies Toes:
+    She gaue them Phisicke, either to coole or mooue them,
+    And powders too to make their sweet Hearts loue them:
+    And her sonne _Cupid_, as her Zany went,
+    Carrying her boxes, whom she often sent
+    To know of her faire Patients how they slept.
+    By which meanes she, and the blinde Archer crept
+    Into their fauours, who would often Toy,
+    And tooke delight in sporting with the Boy;                       70
+    Which many times amongst his waggish tricks,
+    These wanton Wenches in the bosome prickes;
+    That they before which had some franticke fits,
+    Were by his Witchcraft quite out of their wits.
+    Watching this Wisard, my minde gaue me still
+    She some Impostor was, and that this skill
+    Was counterfeit, and had some other end.
+    For which discouery, as I did attend,
+    Her wrinckled vizard being very thin,
+    My piercing eye perceiu'd her cleerer skin                        80
+    Through the thicke Riuels perfectly to shine;
+    When I perceiu'd a beauty so diuine,
+    As that so clouded, I began to pry
+    A little nearer, when I chanc't to spye
+    That pretty Mole vpon her Cheeke, which when
+    I saw; suruaying euery part agen,
+    Vpon her left hand, I perceiu'd the skarre
+    Which she receiued in the Troian warre;
+    Which when I found, I could not chuse but smile.
+    She, who againe had noted me the while,                           90
+    And, by my carriage, found I had descry'd her,
+    Slipt out of sight, and presently doth hide her.
+
+      _Lelipa._ Nay then my dainty Girles, I make no doubt
+    But I my selfe as strangely found her out
+    As either of you both; in Field and Towne,
+    When like a Pedlar she went vp and downe:
+    For she had got a pretty handsome Packe,
+    Which she had fardled neatly at her backe:
+    And opening it, she had the perfect cry,
+    Come my faire Girles, let's see, what will you buy.              100
+    Here be fine night Maskes, plastred well within,
+    To supple wrinckles, and to smooth the skin:
+    Heer's Christall, Corall, Bugle, Iet, in Beads,
+    Cornelian Bracelets for my dainty Maids:
+    Then Periwigs and Searcloth-Gloues doth show,
+    To make their hands as white as Swan or Snow:
+    Then takes she forth a curious gilded boxe,
+    Which was not opened but by double locks;
+    Takes them aside, and doth a Paper spred,
+    In which was painting both for white and red:                    110
+    And next a piece of Silke, wherein there lyes
+    For the decay'd, false Breasts, false Teeth, false Eyes
+    And all the while shee's opening of her Packe,
+    _Cupid_ with's wings bound close downe to his backe:
+    Playing the Tumbler on a Table gets,
+    And shewes the Ladies many pretty feats.
+    I seeing behinde him that he had such things,
+    For well I knew no boy but he had wings,
+    I view'd his Mothers beauty, which to me
+    Lesse then a Goddesse said, she could not be:                    120
+    With that quoth I to her, this other day,
+    As you doe now, so one that came this way,
+    Shew'd me a neate piece, with the needle wrought,
+    How _Mars_ and _Venus_ were together caught
+    By polt-foot _Vulcan_ in an Iron net;
+    It grieu'd me after that I chanc't to let,
+    It to goe from me: whereat waxing red,
+    Into her Hamper she hung downe her head,
+    As she had stoup't some noueltie to seeke,
+    But 'twas indeed to hide her blushing Cheeke:                    130
+    When she her Trinkets trusseth vp anon,
+    E'r we were 'ware, and instantly was gone.
+
+      _Florimel._ But hearke you Nimphes, amongst our idle prate,
+    Tis current newes through the Elizian State,
+    That _Venus_ and her Sonne were lately seene
+    Here in _Elizium_, whence they oft haue beene
+    Banisht by our Edict, and yet still merry,
+    Were here in publique row'd o'r at the Ferry,
+    Where as 'tis said, the Ferryman and she
+    Had much discourse, she was so full of glee,                     140
+    _Codrus_ much wondring at the blind Boyes Bow.
+
+      _Naijs._ And what it was, that easly you may know,
+    _Codrus_ himselfe comes rowing here at hand.
+
+      _Lelipa._ _Codrus_ Come hither, let your Whirry stand,
+    I hope vpon you, ye will take no state
+    Because two Gods haue grac't your Boat of late;
+    Good Ferry-man I pray thee let vs heare
+    What talke ye had, aboard thee whilst they were.
+
+      _Codrus._ Why thus faire Nimphes.
+    As I a Fare had lately past,                                     150
+    And thought that side to ply,
+    I heard one as it were in haste;
+    A Boate, a Boate, to cry,
+    Which as I was aboute to bring,
+    And came to view my Fraught,
+    Thought I; what more then heauenly thing,
+    Hath fortune hither brought.
+    She seeing mine eyes still on her were,
+    Soone, smilingly, quoth she;
+    Sirra, looke to your Roother there,                              160
+    Why lookst thou thus at me?
+    And nimbly stept into my Boat,
+    With her a little Lad
+    Naked and blind, yet did I note,
+    That Bow and Shafts he had,
+    And two Wings to his Shoulders fixt,
+    Which stood like little Sayles,
+    With farre more various colours mixt,
+    Then be your Peacocks Tayles;
+    I seeing this little dapper Elfe,                                170
+    Such Armes as these to beare,
+    Quoth I thus softly to my selfe,
+    What strange thing haue we here,
+    I neuer saw the like thought I:
+    Tis more then strange to me,
+    To haue a child haue wings to fly,
+    And yet want eyes to see;
+    Sure this is some deuised toy,
+    Or it transform'd hath bin,
+    For such a thing, halfe Bird, halfe Boy,                         180
+    I thinke was neuer seene;
+    And in my Boat I turnd about,
+    And wistly viewd the Lad,
+    And cleerely saw his eyes were out,
+    Though Bow and Shafts he had.
+    As wistly she did me behold,
+    How likst thou him, quoth she,
+    Why well, quoth I; and better should,
+    Had he but eyes to see.
+    How sayst thou honest friend, quoth she,                         190
+    Wilt thou a Prentice take,
+    I thinke in time, though blind he be,
+    A Ferry-man hee'll make;
+    To guide my passage Boat quoth I,
+    His fine hands were not made,
+    He hath beene bred too wantonly
+    To vndertake my trade;
+    Why helpe him to a Master then,
+    Quoth she, such Youths be scant,
+    It cannot be but there be men                                    200
+    That such a Boy do want.
+    Quoth I, when you your best haue done,
+    No better way you'll finde,
+    Then to a Harper binde your Sonne,
+    Since most of them are blind.
+    The louely Mother and the Boy,
+    Laught heartily thereat,
+    As at some nimble iest or toy,
+    To heare my homely Chat.
+    Quoth I, I pray you let me know,                                 210
+    Came he thus first to light,
+    Or by some sicknesse, hurt, or blow,
+    Depryued of his sight;
+    Nay sure, quoth she, he thus was borne,
+    Tis strange borne blind, quoth I,
+    I feare you put this as a scorne
+    On my simplicity;
+    Quoth she, thus blind I did him beare,
+    Quoth I, if't be no lye,
+    Then he 's the first blind man Ile sweare,                       220
+    Ere practisd Archery,
+    A man, quoth she, nay there you misse,
+    He 's still a Boy as now,
+    Nor to be elder then he is,
+    The Gods will him alow;
+    To be no elder then he is,
+    Then sure he is some sprite
+    I straight replide, againe at this,
+    The Goddesse laught out right;
+    It is a mystery to me,                                           230
+    An Archer and yet blinde;
+    Quoth I againe, how can it be,
+    That he his marke should finde;
+    The Gods, quoth she, whose will it was
+    That he should want his sight,
+    That he in something should surpasse,
+    To recompence their spight,
+    Gaue him this gift, though at his Game
+    He still shot in the darke,
+    That he should haue so certaine ayme,                            240
+    As not to misse his marke.
+    By this time we were come a shore,
+    When me my Fare she payd,
+    But not a word she vttered more,
+    Nor had I her bewrayd,
+    Of _Venus_ nor of _Cupid_ I
+    Before did neuer heare,
+    But that Fisher comming by
+    Then, told me who they were.
+
+      _Florimel._ Well: against them then proceed                    250
+    As before we haue decreed,
+    That the Goddesse and her Child,
+    Be for euer hence exild,
+    Which _Lelipa_ you shall proclaime
+    In our wise _Apollo's_ name.
+
+      _Lelipa._ To all th' Elizian Nimphish Nation,
+    Thus we make our Proclamation,
+    Against _Venus_ and her Sonne
+    For the mischeefe they haue done,
+    After the next last of May,                                      260
+    The fixt and peremtory day,
+    If she or _Cupid_ shall be found
+    Vpon our Elizian ground,
+    Our Edict, meere Rogues shall make them,
+    And as such, who ere shall take them,
+    Them shall into prison put,
+    _Cupids_ wings shall then be cut,
+    His Bow broken, and his Arrowes
+    Giuen to Boyes to shoot at Sparrowes,
+    And this Vagabund be sent,                                       270
+    Hauing had due punishment
+    To mount _Cytheron_, which first fed him:
+    Where his wanton Mother bred him,
+    And there out of her protection
+    Dayly to receiue correction;
+    Then her Pasport shall be made,
+    And to _Cyprus_ Isle conuayd,
+    And at _Paphos_ in her Shryne,
+    Where she hath been held diuine,
+    For her offences found contrite,                                 280
+    There to liue an Anchorite.
+
+
+The eight Nimphall
+
+MERTILLA, CLAIA, CLORIS.
+
+          _A Nimph is marryed to a Fay,
+          Great preparations for the Day,
+          All Rites of Nuptials they recite you
+          To the Brydall and inuite you._
+
+      _Mertilla._ But will our _Tita_ wed this Fay?
+
+      _Claia._ Yea, and to morrow is the day.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But why should she bestow her selfe
+    Vpon this dwarfish Fayry Elfe?
+
+      _Claia._ Why by her smalnesse you may finde,
+    That she is of the Fayry kinde,
+    And therefore apt to chuse her make
+    Whence she did her begining take:
+    Besides he 's deft and wondrous Ayrye,
+    And of the noblest of the Fayry,                                  10
+    Chiefe of the Crickets of much fame,
+    In Fayry a most ancient name.
+    But to be briefe, 'tis cleerely done,
+    The pretty wench is woo'd and wonne.
+
+      _Cloris._ If this be so, let vs prouide
+    The Ornaments to fit our Bryde.
+    For they knowing she doth come
+    From vs in _Elizium_,
+    Queene _Mab_ will looke she should be drest
+    In those attyres we thinke our best,                              20
+    Therefore some curious things lets giue her,
+    E'r to her Spouse we her deliuer.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Ile haue a Iewell for her eare,
+    (Which for my sake Ile haue her weare)
+    'T shall be a Dewdrop, and therein
+    Of Cupids I will haue a twinne,
+    Which strugling, with their wings shall break
+    The Bubble, out of which shall leak,
+    So sweet a liquor as shall moue
+    Each thing that smels, to be in loue.                             30
+
+      _Claia._ Beleeue me Gerle, this will be fine,
+    And to this Pendant, then take mine;
+    A Cup in fashion of a Fly,
+    Of the Linxes piercing eye,
+    Wherein there sticks a Sunny Ray
+    Shot in through the cleerest day,
+    Whose brightnesse _Venus_ selfe did moue,
+    Therein to put her drinke of Loue,
+    Which for more strength she did distill,
+    The Limbeck was a _Phoenix_ quill,                                40
+    At this Cups delicious brinke,
+    A Fly approching but to drinke,
+    Like Amber or some precious Gumme
+    It transparant doth become.
+
+      _Cloris._ For Iewels for her eares she's sped,
+    But for a dressing for her head
+    I thinke for her I haue a Tyer,
+    That all Fayryes shall admyre,
+    The yellowes in the full-blowne Rose,
+    Which in the top it doth inclose                                  50
+    Like drops of gold Oare shall be hung;
+    Vpon her Tresses, and among
+    Those scattered seeds (the eye to please)
+    The wings of the Cantharides:
+    With some o' th' Raine-bow that doth raile
+    Those Moons in, in the Peacocks taile:
+    Whose dainty colours being mixt
+    With th' other beauties, and so fixt,
+    Her louely Tresses shall appeare,
+    As though vpon a flame they were.                                 60
+    And to be sure she shall be gay,
+    We'll take those feathers from the Iay;
+    About her eyes in Circlets set,
+    To be our _Tita's_ Coronet.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Then dainty Girles I make no doubt,
+    But we shall neatly send her out:
+    But let's amongst our selues agree,
+    Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.
+
+      _Claia._ Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues,
+    Most curiously laid on in Threaues:                               70
+    And all embroydery to supply,
+    Powthred with flowers of Rosemary:
+    A trayle about the skirt shall runne,
+    The Silkewormes finest, newly spunne;
+    And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew
+    With th' smallest of the Spinners Clue:
+    And hauing done their worke, againe
+    These to the Church shall beare her Traine:
+    Which for our _Tita_ we will make
+    Of the cast slough of a Snake,                                    80
+    Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,
+    The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.
+
+      _Cloris._ And being led to meet her mate,
+    To make sure that she want no state,
+    Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred,
+    With feathers from the Pheasants head:
+    Mix'd with the plume of (so high price,)
+    The precious bird of Paradice.
+    Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply
+    Into a curious Canopy.                                            90
+    Borne o're her head (by our enquiry)
+    By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.
+
+      _Mertilla._ But all this while we haue forgot
+    Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?
+
+      _Claia._ We had, for those I'le fit her now,
+    They shall be of the Lady-Cow:
+    The dainty shell vpon her backe
+    Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke;
+    Which as she holds a stately pace,
+    Her Leg will wonderfully grace.                                  100
+
+      _Cloris._ But then for musicke of the best,
+    This must be thought on for the Feast.
+
+      _Mertilla._ The Nightingale of birds most choyce,
+    To doe her best shall straine her voyce;
+    And to this bird to make a Set,
+    The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;
+    The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,
+    That make a Quier of euery Bush.
+    But for still musicke, we will keepe
+    The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe                          110
+    Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone
+    The rest into their chambers gone.
+    And like those vpon Ropes that walke
+    On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,
+    The tripping Fayry tricks shall play
+    The euening of the wedding day.
+
+      _Claia._ But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,
+    That hath not beene talk'd of yet.
+
+      _Cloris._ Of leaues of Roses white and red,
+    Shall be the Couering of her bed:                                120
+    The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,
+    Shall be the flower Imperiall,
+    And for the Fringe, it all along
+    With azure Harebels shall be hung:
+    Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,
+    With downe stuft of the Butterflee.
+
+      _Mertilla._ Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,
+    Now for our Prothalamion
+    Or Marriage song of all the rest,
+    A thing that much must grace our feast.                          130
+    Let vs practise then to sing it,
+    Ere we before th' assembly bring it:
+    We in Dialogues must doe it,
+    The my dainty Girles set to it.
+
+      Claia. _This day must _Tita_ marryed be,
+    Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see._
+
+      Mertilla. _But is it certaine that ye say,
+    Will she wed the Noble Faye?_
+
+      Cloris. _Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes,
+    Such as the Gods at Banquets vse:                                140
+    Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses,
+    And make proud the posts with posies:
+    Shute your sweets into the ayre,
+    Charge the morning to be fayre._
+
+      Claia.    } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Mertilla. } To be married to a Faye._
+
+      Claia. _By whom then shall our Bride be led
+    To the Temple to be wed._
+
+      Mertilla. _Onely by your selfe and I,
+    Who that roomth should else supply?_                             150
+
+      Cloris. _Come bright Girles, come altogether,
+    And bring all your offrings hither,
+    Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye,
+    All your goodly graces Leuye,
+    Come in Maiestie and state
+    Our Brydall here to celebrate._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._
+
+      Claia. _Whose lot wilt be the way to strow
+    On which to Church our Bride must goe?_                          160
+
+      Mertilla. _That I think as fit'st of all,
+    To liuely _Lelipa_ will fall._
+
+      Cloris. _Summon all the sweets that are,
+    To this nuptiall to repayre;
+    Till with their throngs themselues they smother,
+    Strongly styfling one another;
+    And at last they all consume,
+    And vanish in one rich perfume._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Faye._                          170
+
+      Mertilla. _By whom must _Tita_ married be,
+    'Tis fit we all to that should see?_
+
+      Claia. _The Priest he purposely doth come,
+    Th' Arch Flamyne of Elizium._
+
+      Cloris. _With Tapers let the Temples shine,
+    Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine:
+    Load the Altars till there rise
+    Clouds from the burnt sacrifice;
+    With your Sensors fling aloofe
+    Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe._                        180
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Mertilla. _But comming backe when she is wed,
+    Who breakes the Cake aboue her head._
+
+      Claia. _That shall _Mertilla_, for shee's tallest,
+    And our _Tita_ is the smallest._
+
+      Cloris. _Violins, strike vp aloud,
+    Ply the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd,
+    Let the nimble hand belabour
+    The whistling Pipe, and drumbling Taber:                         190
+    To the full the Bagpipe racke,
+    Till the swelling leather cracke._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when to dyne she takes her seate
+    What shall be our _Tita's_ meate?_
+
+      Mertilla. _The Gods this Feast, as to begin,
+    Haue sent of their Ambrosia in._
+
+      Cloris. _Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry,
+    The Respas, and Elizian Cherry:                                  200
+    The virgin honey from the flowers
+    In Hibla, wrought in _Flora's_ bowers:
+    Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle
+    Carouse but in dissolued Pearle._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+      Claia. _But when night comes, and she must goe
+    To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?_
+
+      Mertilla. _In the Posset must be brought,
+    And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught._                      210
+
+      Cloris. _In Maskes, in Dances, and delight,
+    And reare Banquets spend the night:
+    Then about the Roome we ramble,
+    Scatter Nuts, and for them scramble:
+    Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble,
+    Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble._
+
+      Mertilla. } _For our _Tita_ is this day,
+      Claia.    } Married to a noble Fay._
+
+
+The ninth Nimphall
+
+MVSES and NIMPHS.
+
+                    _The Muses spend their lofty layes,
+                    Vpon _Apollo_ and his prayse;
+                    The Nimphs with Gems his Alter build,
+                    This Nimphall is with _Phoebus_ fild._
+
+              A Temple of exceeding state,
+              The Nimphes and Muses rearing,
+              Which they to _Phoebus_ dedicate,
+              Elizium euer cheering:
+              These Muses, and those Nimphes contend
+              This Phane to _Phoebus_ offring,
+              Which side the other should transcend,
+              These praise, those prizes proffering,
+              And at this long appointed day,
+              Each one their largesse bringing,                       10
+              Those nine faire Sisters led the way
+              Thus to _Apollo_ singing.
+
+                The Muses. _Thou youthfull God that guid'st the howres,
+              The Muses thus implore thee,
+              By all those Names, due to thy powers,
+              By which we still adore thee._
+              Sol_, _Tytan_, _Delius_, _Cynthius_, styles
+              Much reuerence that have wonne thee,
+              Deriu'd from Mountaines as from Iles
+              Where worship first was done thee.                      20
+              Rich _Delos_ brought thee forth diuine,
+              Thy Mother thither driven,
+              At _Delphos_ thy most sacred shrine,
+              Thy Oracles were giuen.
+              In thy swift course from East to West,
+              They minutes misse to finde thee,
+              That bear'st the morning on thy breast,
+              And leau'st the night behinde thee.
+              Vp to Olimpus top so steepe,
+              Thy startling Coursers currying;                        30
+              Thence downe to Neptunes vasty deepe,
+              Thy flaming Charriot hurrying._
+              Eos_, _Ethon_, _Phlegon_, _Pirois_, proud,
+The horses    Their lightning Maynes aduancing:
+drawing the   Breathing forth fire on euery cloud
+Chariot of    Vpon their Iourney prancing.
+the Sunne.    Whose sparkling hoofes, with gold for speed
+              Are shod, to scape all dangers,
+              Where they upon Ambrosia feed,
+              In their celestiall Mangers.                            40
+The           Bright _Colatina_, that of hils
+mountaines    Is Goddesse, and hath keeping
+first         Her Nimphes, the cleere _Oreades_ wils
+saluting the  T'attend thee from thy sleeping.
+Sunne at his  Great _*Demogorgon_ feeles thy might,
+rising.       His Mynes about him heating:
+* Supposed    Who through his bosome dart'st thy light,
+the God of    Within the Center sweating.
+earth.        If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,
+              Thou _Minos_ mou'st to heare thee:                      50
+One of the    The Rockes feele in themselues a fire,
+Iudges of     And rise vp to come neere thee.
+hell.         'Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise
+              Hearbs by their natures calling:
+              Of which some opening at thy Rise,
+              And closing at thy falling.
+              Fayre _Hyacinth_ thy most lou'd Lad,
+              That with the sledge thou sluest;
+              Hath in a flower the life he had,
+              Whose root thou still renewest,                         60
+              Thy _Daphne_ thy beloued Tree,
+              That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,
+              And thy deare _Clitia_ yet we see,
+A Nimph lou'd Not time from thee can sunder;
+of _Apollo_,  From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew
+and by him    (Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)
+changed into  Which that fell Serpent _Python_ slew,
+a flower.     Renowning thee for euer.
+              The _Actian_ and the _Pythian_ Games
+Playes or     Deuised were to praise thee,                            70
+Games in      With all th' _Apolinary_ names
+honor of      That th' Ancients thought could raise thee.
+_Apollo_.     A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,
+              To thee we'll haue erected,
+              Which thou the God of Poesie
+              Must care to haue protected:
+              With thy loud _Cinthus_ that shall share,
+              With all his shady Bowers,
+              Nor _Licia's Cragus_ shall compare
+              With this, for thee, of ours._                          80
+
+              Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue
+              Thrust in amongst them thronging,
+              Desiring they might haue the due
+              That was to them belonging.
+              Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,
+              Are in his glories graced,
+              But it is we must build the Shryne
+              Wherein they must be placed;
+              Which of those precious Gemmes we'll make
+              That Nature can affoord vs,                             90
+              Which from that plenty we will take,
+              Wherewith we here have stor'd vs:
+              O glorious _Phoebus_ most diuine,
+              Thine Altars then we hallow.
+              And with those stones we build a Shryne
+              To thee our wise _Apollo_.
+
+                The Nimphes. _No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,
+              (Their numbers let vs muster)
+              But hath from thy most powerfull beames
+              The Vertue and the Lustre;                             100
+              The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
+              The first is to be placed,
+              That glory is of Diadems,
+              Them gracing, by them graced:
+              In whom thy power the most is seene,
+              The raging fire refelling:
+              The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
+              For beauty most excelling,
+              Resisting poyson often prou'd
+              By those about that beare it.                          110
+              The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou'd,
+              That doth reuiue the spirit,
+              Whose kinde to large extensure growne
+              The colour so enflamed,
+              Is that admired mighty stone
+              The Carbunckle that's named,
+              Which from it such a flaming light
+              And radiency eiecteth,
+              That in the very dark'st of night
+              The eye to it directeth.                               120
+              The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,
+              Of which who hath the keeping,
+              No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,
+              And much prouoketh sleeping:
+              The Chrisolite, that doth resist
+              Thirst, proued, neuer failing,
+              The purple colored Amatist,
+              'Gainst strength of wine prevailing;
+              The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,
+              Most soueraine ouer passion:                           130
+              The Sardonix approu'd by vs
+              To master Incantation.
+              Then that celestiall colored stone
+              The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,
+              Which worne, there wearinesse is none,
+              And cureth melancholly:
+              The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew
+              With golden vaines is graced;
+              The Iaspis, of so various hew,
+              Amongst our other placed;                              140
+              The Onix from the Ancients brought,
+              Of wondrous Estimation,
+              Shall in amongst the rest be wrought
+              Our sacred Shryne to fashion;
+              The Topas, we'll stick here and there,
+              And sea-greene colored Berill,
+              And Turkesse, which who haps to beare
+              Is often kept from perill,
+              To Selenite, of _Cynthia's_ light,
+              So nam'd, with her still ranging,                      150
+              Which as she wanes or waxeth bright
+              Its colours so are changing.
+              With Opalls, more then any one,
+              We'll deck thine Altar fuller,
+              For that of euery precious stone,
+              It doth retaine some colour;
+              With bunches of Pearle Paragon
+              Thine Altars vnderpropping,
+              Whose base is the Cornelian,
+              Strong bleeding often stopping:                        160
+              With th' Agot, very oft that is
+              Cut strangely in the Quarry,
+              As Nature ment to show in this,
+              How she her selfe can varry:
+              With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas
+              Elizium well might store vs:
+              But we content our selues with these
+              That readiest lye before vs:
+              And thus O _Phoebus_ most diuine
+              Thine Altars still we hallow,                          170
+              And to thy Godhead reare this Shryne
+              Our onely wise _Apollo_._
+
+
+The tenth Nimphall
+
+NAIIS, CLAIA, CORBILVS, SATYRE.
+
+            _A Satyre on Elizium lights,
+            Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,
+            Yet when they heare his iust complaint,
+            They make him an Elizian Saint._
+
+                    _Corbilus._
+
+    What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know
+    What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?
+    What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?
+    What might it be from which ye flye so fast?
+    I see your faces full of pallid feare,
+    As though some perill followed on your flight;
+    Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare
+    Into what danger ye haue lately light.
+
+      _Naijs._ Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,
+    As when kinde, loued _Corbilus_ we saw,                           10
+    When our much haste vs so much weakned had,
+    That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,
+    In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,
+    So fell a monster lying there we found,
+    As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,
+    Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.
+    Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem'd to vs in show,
+    His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,
+    But he's a very perfect Goat below,
+    His crooked Cambrils arm'd with hoofe and hayre.                  20
+
+      _Claia._ Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
+    Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
+    And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,
+    Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
+    Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
+    Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
+    Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.
+
+      _Claia._ How _Corbilus_; a Satyre doe you say?
+    How should he ouer high _Parnassus_ hit?                          30
+    Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,
+    But onely those the Muses will permit.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
+    The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
+    Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
+    By beastly mens abhominable way;
+    Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
+    By this base time, or be so much distrest,
+    That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
+    To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest.                  40
+
+      _Naijs._ Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
+    At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
+    Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
+    As at the first, when I and _Claia_ saw him.
+
+      _Corbilus._ 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
+    Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
+    His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
+    How, and from whence, he to _Elizium_ came.
+    Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?
+    What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store?                50
+    When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde
+    Set foot on the Elizian earth before?
+
+      _Satyre._ O neuer aske, how I came to this place,
+    What cannot strong necessity finde out?
+    Rather bemoane my miserable case,
+    Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:
+    With wild _Silvanus_ and his woody crue,
+    In Forrests I, at liberty and free,
+    Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,
+    Nor any rightly can conceiue but we.                              60
+    This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,
+    Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,
+    That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.
+    Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,
+    That faire _Felicia_ which was but of late,
+    Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,
+    Stands now in that most lamentable state,
+    That not a Siluan will inhabit there;
+    Where in the soft and most delicious shade,
+    In heat of Summer we were wont to play,                           70
+    When the long day too short for vs we made,
+    The slyding houres so slyly stole away;
+    By _Cynthia's_ light, and on the pleasant Lawne,
+    The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,
+    Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,
+    Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.
+    The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke
+    The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,
+    Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,
+    Till at the last, they lowder were then they.                     80
+    The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,
+    Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;
+    Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,
+    The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;
+    Once faire _Felicia_, but now quite defac'd,
+    Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,
+    With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd
+    With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:
+    But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,
+    In humane Reason it could neuer be,                               90
+    But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,
+    Those plagues their next posterity shall see.
+    The little Infant on the mothers Lap
+    For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,
+    That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,
+    The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;
+    The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,
+    And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,
+    Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,
+    The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast.                 100
+    Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,
+    And not a Forrest in _Felicia_ found,
+    Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,
+    To dig them caues for houses in the ground:
+    The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,
+    Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,
+    Begging from thence that _Iove_ would dart his fire
+    Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;
+    This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide
+    The name of their braue Ancestors to heare,                      110
+    By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,
+    So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,
+    Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,
+    Of those braue Muses that their Country song,
+    But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue
+    The right and honour that to them belong;
+    This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure
+    That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;
+    The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre
+    Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred.                     120
+    I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come
+    Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:
+    And thus am light into Elizium,
+    To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.
+
+      _Naijs._ Poore silly creature, come along with vs,
+    Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:
+    Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,
+    This place content in all abundance yeelds.
+    We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,
+    Of _Ioues_ deare Daughters, where in shades they sit,            130
+    Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,
+    Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:
+
+      _Claia._ Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres
+    His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:
+    Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers
+    With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.
+
+      _Corbilus._ Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,
+    Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:
+    Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,
+    And some like beasts in markets sold and bought.                 140
+    Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,
+    That haue no vnderstanding of their state:
+    For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,
+    That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.
+    And to Elizium be thou welcome then,
+    Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,
+    By that vile nation captiued againe,
+    That many a glorious age their captiues were.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND'
+
+[From the Edition of 1593]
+
+
+    The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle,
+    Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle.
+
+    Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide,
+    Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride.
+
+    Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence,
+    Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence.
+
+    Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure,
+    Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure.
+
+    Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward,
+    Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde.                     10
+
+    Yea she alone, next that eternall he,
+    The expresse Image of eternitie.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue)
+    The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse,
+    If this be wrought me my light to bereaue,
+    By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips
+    Or vgly _Saturne_ from his combust sent,
+    This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.
+
+    Oh cleerest day-starre, honored of mine eyes,
+    Yet sdaynst mine eyes should gaze vpon thy light,
+    Bright morning sunne, who with thy sweet arise,
+    Expell'st the clouds of my harts lowring night,                   10
+    Goddes reiecting sweetest sacrifice,
+    Of mine eyes teares ay offered to thine eyes.
+
+    May purest heauens scorne my soules pure desires?
+    Or holy shrines hate Pilgrims orizons?
+    May sacred temples gaynsay sacred prayers?
+    Or Saints refuse the poores deuotions?
+    Then Orphane thoughts with sorrow be you waind,
+    When loues Religion shalbe thus prophayn'd.
+
+    Yet needes the earth must droope with visage sad,
+    When siluer dewes been turn'd to bitter stormes,                  20
+    The Cheerful _Welkin_, once in sables clad,
+    Her frownes foretell poore humaine creatures harmes.
+    And yet for all to make amends for this,
+    The clouds sheed teares, and weepen at my misse.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iij_
+
+    O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,
+    _Beta_ alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,
+            The Queene of Virgins onely she:
+            And thou the Queene of floods shalt be:
+    Let all thy Nymphes be ioyfull then to see this happy day,
+    Thy _Beta_ now alone shalbe the subiect of my laye.
+
+    With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest virelayes:
+    Come louely shepheards sit we down and chant our _Betas_ prayse:
+            And let vs sing so rare a verse,
+            Our _Betas_ prayses to rehearse,                          10
+    That little Birds shall silent be, to heare poore shepheards sing,
+    And riuers backward bend their course, and flow vnto the spring.
+
+    Range all thy swannes faire Thames together on a rancke,
+    And place them duely one by one, vpon thy stately banck,
+            Then set together all agood,
+            Recording to the siluer flood,
+    And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe you with her lay,
+    The Osel and the Throstlecocke, chiefe musicke of our maye.
+
+    O! see what troups of Nimphs been sporting on the strands,
+    And they been blessed Nimphs of peace, with Oliues in their hands.  20
+            How meryly the Muses sing,
+            That all the flowry Medowes ring,
+    And _Beta_ sits vpon the banck, in purple and in pall,
+    And she the Queene of Muses is, and weares the Corinall.
+
+    Trim vp her Golden tresses with _Apollos_ sacred tree,
+    O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honor thee,
+            The Blessed Angels haue prepar'd,
+            A glorious Crowne for thy reward,
+    Not such a golden Crowne as haughty _Caesar_ weares,
+    But such a glittering starry Crowne as _Ariadne_ beares.          30
+
+    Make her a goodly Chapilet of azur'd Colombine,
+    And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglentine:
+            Bedeck our _Beta_ all with Lillies,
+            And the dayntie Daffadillies,
+    With Roses damask, white, and red, and fairest flower delice,
+    With Cowslips of Jerusalem, and cloues of Paradice.
+
+    O thou fayre torch of heauen, the days most dearest light,
+    And thou bright shyning _Cinthya_, the glory of the night:
+            You starres the eyes of heauen,
+            And thou the glyding leuen,                               40
+    And thou O gorgeous _Iris_ with all strange Colours dyd,
+    When she streams foorth her rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
+
+    See how the day stands still, admiring of her face,
+    And time loe stretcheth foorth her armes, thy _Beta_ to imbrace,
+            The Syrens sing sweete layes,
+            The Trytons sound her prayse,
+    Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean sea,
+    And let thy billowes there proclaime thy _Betas_ holy-day.
+
+    And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree,
+    With whose sweete shadow, al thy bancks with peace preserued be,  50
+            Lawrell for Poets and Conquerours,
+            And mirtle for Loues Paramours:
+    That fame may be thy fruit, the boughes preseru'd by peace,
+    And let the mournful Cipres die, now stormes and tempest cease.
+
+    Wee'l straw the shore with pearle where _Beta_ walks alone,
+    And we wil paue her princely Bower with richest Indian stone,
+            Perfume the ayre and make it sweete,
+            For such a Goddesse it is meete,
+    For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light,
+    No maruaile then although they so doe dazell humaine sight.       60
+
+    Sound out your trumpets then, from _London's_ stately towres,
+    To beate the stormie windes a back and calme the raging showres,
+            Set too the Cornet and the flute,
+            The Orpharyon and the Lute,
+    And tune the Taber and the Pipe, to the sweet violons,
+    And moue the thunder in the ayre, with lowdest Clarions.
+
+    _Beta_ long may thine Altars smoke, with yeerely sacrifice,
+    And long thy sacred Temples may their Saboths solemnize,
+            Thy shepheards watch by day and night,
+            Thy Mayds attend the holy light,                          70
+    And thy large empyre stretch her armes from east vnto the west,
+    And thou vnder thy feet mayst tread, that foule seuen-headed beast.
+
+
+_From Eclogue iv_
+
+    _Melpomine_ put on thy mourning Gaberdine,
+    And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,
+    And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,
+            with weeping verse,
+            attend his hearse,
+    Whose blessed soule the heauens doe now enshrine.
+
+    Come Nymphs and with your Rebecks ring his knell,
+    Warble forth your wamenting harmony,
+    And at his drery fatall obsequie,
+            with Cypres bowes,                                        10
+            maske your fayre Browes,
+    And beat your breasts to chyme his burying peale.
+
+    Thy birth-day was to all our ioye, the euen,
+    And on thy death this dolefull song we sing,
+    Sweet Child of _Pan_, and the _Castalian_ spring,
+            vnto our endless mone,
+            from vs why art thou gone,
+    To fill vp that sweete Angels quier in heauen.
+
+    O whylome thou thy lasses dearest loue,
+    When with greene Lawrell she hath crowned thee,                   20
+    Immortal mirror of all Poesie:
+            the Muses treasure,
+            the Graces pleasure,
+    Reigning with Angels now in heauen aboue.
+
+    Our mirth is now depriu'd of all her glory,
+    Our Taburins in dolefull dumps are drownd.
+    Our viols want their sweet and pleasing sound,
+            our melodie is mar'd
+            and we of ioyes debard,
+    O wicked world so mutable and transitory.                         30
+
+    O dismall day, bereauer of delight,
+    O stormy winter, sourse of all our sorrow,
+    O most vntimely and eclipsed morrow,
+            to rob us quite,
+            of all delight,
+    Darkening that starre which euer shone so bright.
+
+    Oh _Elphin_, _Elphin_, Though thou hence be gone,
+    In spight of death yet shalt thou liue for aye,
+    Thy Poesie is garlanded with Baye:
+            and still shalt blaze                                     40
+            thy lasting prayse:
+    Whose losse poore shepherds euer shall bemone.
+
+    Come Girles, and with Carnations decke his graue,
+    With damaske Roses and the hyacynt:
+    Come with sweete Williams, Marioram and Mynt,
+            with precious Balmes,
+            with hymnes and psalmes,
+    This funerall deserues no lesse at all to haue.
+
+    But see where _Elphin_ sits in fayre Elizia,
+    Feeding his flocke on yonder heauenly playne,                     50
+    Come and behold, you louely shepheards swayne,
+            piping his fill
+            on yonder hill,
+    Tasting sweete _Nectar_, and _Ambrosia_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+              _Borrill._
+
+    Oh spightfull wayward wretched loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauens and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    Thoughts griefe, hearts woe,
+    Hopes paine, bodies languish,
+    Enuies rage, sleepes foe,
+    Fancies fraud, soules anguish,
+    Desires dread, mindes madnes,
+    Secrets bewrayer, natures error,                                  10
+    Sights deceit, sullens sadnes,
+    Speeches expence, Cupids terror,
+    Malcontents melancholly,
+    Liues slaughter, deaths nurse,
+    Cares slaue, dotard's folly,
+    Fortunes bayte, world's curse,
+    Lookes theft, eyes blindnes,
+    Selfes will, tongues treason,
+    Paynes pleasure, wrongs kindnes,
+    Furies frensie, follies reason:                                   20
+    With cursing thee as I began,
+    Neither God, neither man,
+    Neither Fayrie, neither Feend.
+
+              _Batte._
+
+    Loue is the heauens fayre aspect,
+      loue is the glorie of the earth,
+    Loue only doth our liues direct,
+      loue is our guyder from our birth,
+
+    Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie,
+      loue taught mine eyes the way to loue,
+    Loue raysed my conceit so hie,                                    30
+      loue framd my hand his arte to proue.
+
+    Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill,
+      loue gaue me first to Poesie:
+    Loue is the Soueraigne of my will,
+      loue bound me first to loyalty.
+
+    Loue was the first that fram'd my speech,
+      loue was the first that gaue me grace:
+    Loue is my life and fortunes leech,
+      loue made the vertuous giue me place.
+
+    Loue is the end of my desire,                                     40
+      loue is the loadstarre of my loue,
+    Loue makes my selfe, my selfe admire,
+      loue seated my delights aboue.
+
+    Loue placed honor in my brest,
+      loue made me learnings fauoret,
+    Loue made me liked of the best,
+      loue first my minde on virtue set.
+
+    Loue is my life, life is my loue,
+      loue is my whole felicity,
+    Loue is my sweete, sweete is my loue,                             50
+      I am in loue, and loue in mee.
+
+
+_From Eclogue viij_
+
+    Farre in the countrey of _Arden_
+    There wond a knight hight _Cassemen_,
+      as bolde as _Isenbras_:
+    Fell was he and eger bent,
+    In battell and in Tournament,
+      as was the good sir _Topas_.
+    He had as antique stories tell,
+    A daughter cleaped _Dowsabell_,
+      a mayden fayre and free:
+    And for she was her fathers heire,                                10
+    Full well she was ycond the leyre,
+      of mickle curtesie.
+    The silke wel couth she twist and twine,
+    And make the fine Marchpine,
+      and with the needle werke,
+    And she couth helpe the priest to say
+    His Mattens on a holyday,
+      and sing a Psalme in Kirke.
+    She ware a frocke of frolicke greene,
+    Might well beseeme a mayden Queene,                               20
+      which seemly was to see.
+    A hood to that so neat and fine,
+    In colour like the colombine,
+      ywrought full featously.
+    Her feature all as fresh aboue,
+    As is the grasse that grows by Doue,
+      as lyth as lasse of Kent:
+    Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll,
+    As white as snow on peakish hull,
+      or Swanne that swims in Trent.                                  30
+    This mayden in a morne betime,
+    Went forth when May was in her prime,
+      to get sweet Cetywall,
+    The hony-suckle, the Harlocke,
+    The Lilly and the Lady-smocke,
+      to decke her summer hall.
+    Thus as she wandred here and there,
+    Ypicking of the bloomed Breere,
+      she chanced to espie
+    A shepheard sitting on a bancke,                                  40
+    Like _Chanteclere_ he crowed crancke,
+      and pip'd with merrie glee:
+    He leard his sheepe as he him list,
+    When he would whistle in his fist,
+      to feede about him round:
+    Whilst he full many a caroll sung,
+    Vntill the fields and medowes rung,
+      and that the woods did sound:
+    In fauour this same shepheards swayne,
+    Was like the bedlam _Tamburlayne_,                                50
+      which helde prowd Kings in awe:
+    But meeke he was as Lamb mought be,
+    Ylike that gentle _Abel_ he,
+      whom his lewd brother slaw.
+    This shepheard ware a sheepe gray cloke,
+    Which was of the finest loke,
+      that could be cut with sheere,
+    His mittens were of Bauzens skinne,
+    His cockers were of Cordiwin
+      his hood of Meniueere.                                          60
+    His aule and lingell in a thong,
+    His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong,
+      his breech of Coyntrie blew:
+    Full crispe and curled were his lockes,
+    His browes as white as _Albion_ rockes,
+      so like a louer true.
+    And pyping still he spent the day,
+    So mery as the Popingay:
+      which liked _Dowsabell_,
+    That would she ought or would she nought,                         70
+    This lad would neuer from her thought:
+      she in loue-longing fell,
+    At length she tucked vp her frocke,
+    White as the Lilly was her smocke,
+      she drew the shepheard nie,
+    But then the shepheard pyp'd a good,
+    That all his sheepe forsooke their foode,
+      to heare his melodie.
+    Thy sheepe quoth she cannot be leane,
+    That haue a iolly shepheards swayne,                              80
+      the which can pipe so well.
+    Yea but (sayth he) their shepheard may,
+    Jf pyping thus he pine away,
+      in loue of _Dowsabell_.
+    Of loue fond boy take thou no keepe,
+    Quoth she, looke well vnto thy sheepe,
+      lest they should hap to stray.
+    Quoth he, so had I done full well,
+    Had I not seene fayre _Dowsabell_,
+      come forth to gather Maye.                                      90
+    With that she gan to vaile her head,
+    Her cheekes were like the Roses red,
+      but not a word she sayd.
+    With that the shepheard gan to frowne,
+    He threw his pretie pypes adowne,
+      and on the ground him layd.
+    Sayth she, I may not stay till night,
+    And leaue my summer hall vndight,
+      and all for long of thee.
+    My Coate sayth he, nor yet my foulde,                            100
+    Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould,
+      except thou fauour me.
+    Sayth she yet leuer I were dead,
+    Then I should lose my maydenhead,
+      and all for loue of men:
+    Sayth he yet are you too vnkind,
+    If in your heart you cannot finde,
+      to loue vs now and then:
+    And J to thee will be as kinde,
+    As _Colin_ was to _Rosalinde_,                                   110
+      of curtesie the flower;
+    Then will I be as true quoth she,
+    As euer mayden yet might be,
+      vnto her Paramour:
+    With that she bent her snowe-white knee,
+    Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,
+      and him she sweetely kist.
+    With that the shepheard whoop'd for ioy,
+    Quoth he, ther's neuer shepheards boy,
+      that euer was so blist.                                        120
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1605]
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Then this great Vniuerse no lesse,
+    Can serue her prayses to expresse:
+    Betwixt her eies the poles of Loue,
+    The host of heauenly beautyes moue,
+    Depainted in their proper stories,
+    As well the fixd as wandring glories,
+    Which from their proper orbes not goe,
+    Whether they gyre swift or slowe:
+    Where from their lips, when she doth speake,
+    The musick of those sphears do breake,                            10
+    Which their harmonious motion breedeth:
+    From whose cheerfull breath proceedeth:
+    That balmy sweetnes that giues birth
+    To euery ofspring of the earth.
+    Her shape and cariage of which frame
+    In forme how well shee beares the same,
+    Is that proportion heauens best treasure,
+    Whereby it doth all poyze and measure,
+    So that alone her happy sight
+    Conteynes perfection and delight.                                 20
+
+
+_From Eclogue ij_
+
+    Vppon a bank with roses set about,
+    Where pretty turtles ioyning bil to bill,
+    And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out
+    Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill:
+    There little loue sore wounded lyes,
+    His bowe and arowes broken,
+    Bedewd with teares from Venus eyes
+    Oh greeuous to be spoken.
+
+    Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye
+    Where sticks the arrowe that poore hart did kill,                 10
+    With whose sharp pile request him ere he die,
+    About the same to write his latest will,
+    And bid him send it backe to mee,
+    At instant of his dying,
+    That cruell cruell shee may see
+    My faith and her denying.
+
+    His chappell be a mournefull Cypresse Shade,
+    And for a chauntry Philomels sweet lay,
+    Where prayers shall continually be made
+    By pilgrim louers passing by that way.                            20
+    With Nymphes and shepheards yearly moane
+    His timeles death beweeping,
+    In telling that my hart alone
+    Hath his last will in keeping.
+
+
+[From the Edition of 1606]
+
+_From Eclogue vij_
+
+    Now fye vpon thee wayward loue,
+    Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
+    Heauen and earth thy plagues doe proue,
+    Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
+    What art thou but th' extreamst madnesse,
+    Natures first and only error
+    That consum'st our daies in sadnesse,
+    By the minds Continuall terror:
+    Walking in Cymerian blindnesse,
+    In thy courses voy'd of reason.                                   10
+    Sharp reproofe thy only kindnesse,
+    In thy trust the highest treason?
+    Both the Nymph and ruder swaine,
+    Vexing with continuall anguish,
+    Which dost make the ould complaine
+    And the young to pyne and languishe,
+    Who thee keepes his care doth nurse,
+    That seducest all to folly,
+    Blessing, bitterly doest curse,
+    Tending to destruction wholly:                                    20
+    Thus of thee as I began,
+    So againe I make an end,
+    Neither god neither man,
+    Neither faiery, neither feend.
+
+              BATTE.
+
+    What is Loue but the desire
+    Of the thing that fancy pleaseth?
+    A holy and resistlesse fier,
+    Weake and strong alike that ceaseth,
+    Which not heauen hath power to let,
+    Nor wise nature cannot smother,                                   30
+    Whereby _Phoebus_ doth begette
+    On the vniuersall mother.
+    That the euerlasting Chaine,
+    Which together al things tied,
+    And vnmooued them retayne
+    And by which they shall abide:
+    That concent we cleerely find,
+    All things doth together drawe,
+    And so strong in euery kinde,
+    Subiects them to natures law.                                     40
+    Whose hie virtue number teaches
+    In which euery thing dooth mooue,
+    From the lowest depth that reaches
+    To the height of heauen aboue:
+    Harmony that wisely found,
+    When the cunning hand doth strike
+    Whereas euery amorous sound,
+    Sweetly marryes with his like.
+    The tender cattell scarcely take
+    From their damm's the feelds to proue,                            50
+    But ech seeketh out a make,
+    Nothing liues that doth not loue:
+    Not soe much as but the plant
+    As nature euery thing doth payre,
+    By it if the male it want
+    Doth dislike and will not beare:
+    Nothing then is like to loue
+    In the which all creatures be.
+    From it nere let me remooue
+    Nor let it remooue from me.                                       60
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+                        BATTE.
+
+              _Gorbo_, as thou cam'st this waye
+              By yonder little hill,
+              Or as thou through the fields didst straye
+              Sawst thou my _Daffadill_?
+
+              Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene
+              The colour maides delight
+              And neuer hath her beauty seen
+              But through a vale of white.
+
+              Then Roses richer to behold
+              That trim vp louers bowers,                             10
+              The Pansy and the Marigould
+              Tho _Phoebus_ Paramours.
+
+    _Gorbo._  Thou well describ'st the Daffadill
+              It is not full an hower
+              Since by the spring neare yonder hill
+              I saw that louely flower.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
+              Nor news of her didst bring,
+              And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
+              Then that by yonder spring.                             20
+
+    _Gorbo._  I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
+              In yonder field of Lillies,
+              Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
+              A wreathe of Daffadillies.
+
+    _Batte._  Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
+              My flower thou didst not see,
+              For know my pretie _Daffadill_
+              Is worne of none but me.
+
+              To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
+              No Lilly is so bould,                                   30
+              Except to shade her from the heate,
+              Or keepe her from the colde:
+
+    _Gorbo._  Through yonder vale as I did passe,
+              Descending from the hill,
+              I met a smerking bony lasse,
+              They call her _Daffadill_:
+
+              Whose presence as along she went,
+              The prety flowers did greet,
+              As though their heads they downward bent,
+              With homage to her feete.                               40
+
+              And all the shepheards that were nie,
+              From toppe of euery hill,
+              Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
+              There goes sweet _Daffadill_.
+
+    _Gorbo._  I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
+              Thou all my flockes dost fill,
+              That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
+              Let vs to _Daffadill_.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Motto._  Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
+              Who's yonder in the vally set?
+    _Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
+              The Lilly, Rose, or violet.
+
+    _Motto._  Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
+              Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
+    _Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
+              With gazing on her heauenly eies:
+
+    _Motto._  Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
+              Which somtyme was their chiefe delight,                 10
+    _Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
+              That liue in presence of her sight:
+
+    _Motto._  How com those flowers to florish still,
+              Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
+    _Perkin._ She hath robd nature of her skill,
+              And comforts all things with her breath:
+
+    _Motto._  Why slide these brookes so slow away,
+              As swift as the wild Roe that were,
+    _Perkin._ O muse not shepheard that they stay,
+              When they her heauenly voice do heare.                  20
+
+    _Motto._  From whence com all these goodly swayns
+              And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
+    _Perkin._ From gathering garlands on the playnes,
+              To crowne thy _Siluia_ shepheards queen.
+
+    _Motto._  The sun that lights this world below,
+              Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
+    _Perkin._ These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
+              Thy _Syluia_ is as chast, as fayre.
+
+
+_From Eclogue ix_
+
+    _Rowland._ Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
+    _Chorus._  Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
+    _Row:_     O she alone the shepheards Queen,
+    _Cho:_     Her Flocke that leades,
+               The goddesse of these medes,
+               These mountaines and these plaines.
+
+    _Row:_     Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
+    _Cho:_     Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
+    _Row:_     Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
+    _Cho:_     Fy on that prayse,                                     10
+               In striuing things to rayse:
+               That doth but make them lesse.
+
+    _Row:_     That doe the flowery spring prolong,
+    _Cho:_     So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
+    _Row:_     And keeps the plenteous summer young:
+    _Cho:_     And doth asswage
+               The wrathfull winters rage
+               That would our flocks destroy.
+
+    _Row:_     _Ioue_ saw her brest that naked lay,
+    _Cho:_     A sight alone was fit for _Ioue_ to see:               20
+    _Row:_     And swore it was the milkie way,
+    _Cho:_     Of all most pure,
+               The path (we vs assure)
+               Vnto _Ioues_ court to be.
+
+    _Row:_     He saw her tresses hanging downe.
+    _Cho:_     That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
+    _Row:_     And sayd that _Ariadnes_ crowne,
+    _Cho:_     With those compar'd:
+               The gods should not regard
+               Nor _Berenices_ hayre.                                 30
+
+    _Row:_     When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,
+    _Cho:_     O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:
+    _Row:_     They neuer needed _Cynthia's_ light,
+    _Cho:_     That soone gaue place,
+               Amazed with her grace,
+               That did attend thy sheepe.
+
+    _Row:_     Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
+    _Cho:_     When as she shall be placed in the skies,
+    _Row:_     She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
+    _Cho:_     And euermore,                                          40
+               We shepheards will adore,
+               Her setting and her rise.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton's;
+chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends' books. The
+first song is from _England's Helicon_, and is, I think, too pretty to
+be lost. Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their
+inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of
+which there are doubtless a few still lacking. But I have tried to make
+the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.
+
+
+From _England's Helicon_ (1600) p. 97.
+
+Rowlands _Madrigall._
+
+    Faire Loue rest thee heere,
+    Neuer yet was morne so cleere,
+    Sweete be not vnkinde,
+    Let me thy fauour finde,
+        Or else for loue I die.
+
+    Harke this pretty bubling spring,
+    How it makes the Meadowes ring,
+    Loue now stand my friend,
+    Heere let all sorrow end,
+        And I will honour thee.                                       10
+
+    See where little _Cupid_ lyes,
+    Looking babies in her eyes.
+    _Cupid_ helpe me now,
+    Lend to me thy bowe,
+        To wound her that wounded me.
+
+    Heere is none to see or tell,
+    All our flocks are feeding by,
+    This Banke with Roses spred,
+    Oh it is a dainty bed,
+        Fit for my Loue and me.                                       20
+
+    Harke the birds in yonder Groaue,
+    How they chaunt vnto my Loue,
+    Loue be kind to me,
+    As I haue beene to thee,
+        For thou hast wonne my hart.
+
+    Calme windes blow you faire,
+    Rock her thou gentle ayre,
+    O the morne is noone,
+    The euening comes too soone,
+        To part my Loue and me.                                       30
+
+    The Roses and thy lips doo meete,
+    Oh that life were halfe so sweete,
+    Who would respect his breath,
+    That might die such a death,
+        Oh that life thus might die.
+
+    All the bushes that be neere,
+    With sweet Nightingales beset,
+    Hush sweete and be still,
+    Let them sing their fill,
+        There's none our ioyes to let.                                40
+
+    Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast?
+    Oh why doo'st thou make such hast?
+    It is too early yet,
+    So soone from ioyes to flit
+        Why art thou so vnkind?
+
+    See my little Lambkins runne,
+    Looke on them till I haue done,
+    Hast not on the night,
+    To rob me of her light,
+        That liue but by her eyes.                                    50
+
+    Alas, sweete Loue, we must depart,
+    Harke, my dogge begins to barke,
+    Some bodie's comming neere,
+    They shall not find vs heere,
+        For feare of being chid.
+
+    Take my Garland and my Gloue,
+    Weare it for my sake my Loue,
+    To morrow on the greene,
+    Thou shalt be our Sheepheards Queene,
+        Crowned with Roses gay.                                       60
+
+                      _Mich. Drayton._
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+From T. Morley's _First Book of Ballets_ (1595).
+
+Mr. M.D. to the Author.
+
+    Such was old _Orpheus_ cunning,
+    That sencelesse things drew neere him,
+    And heards of beasts to heare him,
+    The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,
+    Morley! but this enchaunting
+    To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.
+    And yet thou needst not feare him;
+    Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,
+    And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.
+
+
+Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's _Legend of Humphrey Duke of
+Gloucester_ (1600).
+
+To his friend, Master _Chr. M._ his Booke.
+
+    Like as a man, on some aduenture bound
+    His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,
+    T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;
+    Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,
+    That if the voyage (happily) be good:
+    They his good fortune freely may pertake;
+    If otherwise it perrish in the flood,
+    Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.
+    On thy returne I put this little forth,
+    My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,
+    Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,
+    Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;
+      And if thy fortune prosper, I may see
+      I haue some share, though most returne to thee.
+
+                                  _Mich. Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; _Holy Roode_ (1609).
+
+_To_ M. IOHN DAVIES, _my good friend_.
+
+    _Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,
+    And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,
+    As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,
+    If with the _Muses_ they will haue commerce:
+    Seldome at _Stawles_, me, this way men rehearse,
+    To mine _Inferiours_, not unto my _Betters:
+    _He stales his _Lines_ that so doeth them disperse;
+    I am so free, I loue not _Golden-fetters_.
+    And many _Lines_ fore _Writers_, be but Setters
+    To them which cheate with_ Papers; _which doth pierse,
+    Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:
+    To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse
+      Often (my good _Iohn_; and I loue) thy_ Letters_;
+      Which lend me Credit, as I lend my _Verse_._
+
+                                  Michael Drayton.
+
+
+Prefixed to Sir David Murray's _Sophonisba_ &c. (1611).
+
+_To my kinde friend_ Da: Murray.
+
+    In new attire (and put most neatly on)
+    Thou _Murray_ mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
+    As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
+    Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
+    So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
+    That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
+    Into a body of delicious ayres:
+    Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
+    That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
+    Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,
+    But breathing now vpon our colder shore,
+    Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,
+      Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,
+      That what she was, she's euery where the same.
+
+                                  M. DRAYTON.
+
+
+Among the Panegyrical Verses before Coryat's _Crudities_ (1611).
+
+_Incipit Michael Drayton_.
+
+A briefe Prologue to the verses _following_.
+
+    Deare _Tom_, thy booke was like to come to light,
+    Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write;
+    They go before whose wits are at their noones,
+    _And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones._
+
+    Many there be that write before thy Booke,
+    For whom (except here) who could euer looke?
+    Thrice happy are all wee that had the Grace
+    To haue our names set in this liuing place.
+    Most worthy man, with thee it is euen thus,
+    As men take _Dottrels_, so hast thou ta'n vs.
+    Which as a man his arme or leg doth set,
+    So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit:
+    Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes
+    And we are all thy _Zanies_, thy true _Apes_.                     10
+    I saw this age (from what it was at first)
+    Swolne, and so bigge, that it was like to burst,
+    Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion,
+    That who will thriue, must hazard his damnation:
+    Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist,
+    As to dim heauen: I looked for Antichrist
+    Or some new set of Diuels to sway hell,
+    Worser then those, that in the _Chaos_ fell:
+    Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring,
+    At length it brought forth this: O most strange thing;            20
+    And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head
+    Euer is hard'st to be deliuered.
+    By thee wise _Coryate_ we are taught to know,
+    Great, with great men which is the way to grow.
+    For in a new straine thou com'st finely in,
+    Making thy selfe like those thou mean'st to winne:
+    Greatnesse to me seem'd euer full of feare,
+    Which thou found'st false at thy arriuing there,
+    Of the _Bermudas_, the example such,
+    Where not a ship vntill this time durst touch;                    30
+    Kep't as suppos'd by hels infernall dogs,
+    Our Fleet found their most honest wyld courteous hogs.
+    Liue vertuous _Coryate_, and for euer be
+    Lik'd of such wise men, as are most like thee.
+
+                        _Explicit Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to William Browne's _Britannia's Pastorals_ (1613).
+
+To his Friend the AVTHOR.
+
+    Driue forth thy Flocke, young Pastor, to that Plaine,
+    Where our old Shepheards wont their flocks to feed;
+    To those cleare walkes, where many a skilfull Swaine
+    To'ards the calme eu'ning, tun'd his pleasant Reede,
+    Those, to the _Muses_ once so sacred, Downes,
+    As no rude foote might there presume to stand:
+    (Now made the way of the vnworthiest Clownes,
+    Dig'd and plow'd vp with each vnhallowed hand)
+    If possible thou canst, redeeme those places,
+    Where, by the brim of many a siluer Spring,                       10
+    The learned Maydens, and delightfull Graces
+    Often haue sate to heare our Shepheards sing:
+    Where on those _Pines_ the neighb'ring Groues among,
+    (Now vtterly neglected in these dayes)
+    Our Garlands, Pipes, and Cornamutes were hong
+    The monuments of our deserued praise.
+    So may thy Sheepe like, so thy Lambes increase,
+    And from the Wolfe feede euer safe and free!
+    So maist thou thriue, among the learned prease,
+    As thou young Shepheard art belou'd of mee!                       20
+
+
+Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's _Georgics_ (1618).
+
+To my worthy friend Mr. _George Chapman_, and his translated _Hesiod_.
+
+        _Chapman_; We finde by thy past-prized fraught,
+    What wealth thou dost vpon this Land conferre;
+    Th'olde _Grecian_ Prophets hither that hast brought,
+    Of their full words the true interpreter:
+    And by thy trauell, strongly hast exprest
+    The large dimensions of the English tongue;
+    Deliuering them so well, the first and best,
+    That to the world in Numbers euer sung.
+    Thou hast vnlock'd the treasury, wherein
+    All Art, and knowledge haue so long been hidden:                  10
+    Which, till the gracefull Muses did begin
+    Here to inhabite, was to vs forbidden.
+        In blest _Elizivm_ (in a place most fit)
+    Vnder that tree due to the _Delphian_ God,
+    _Musaeus_, and that _Iliad Singer_ sit,
+    And neare to them that noble _Hesiod_,
+    Smoothing their rugged foreheads; and do smile,
+    After so many hundred yeares to see
+    Their Poems read in this farre westerne Ile,
+    Translated from their ancient Greeke, by thee;                    20
+    Each his good _Genius_ whispering in his eare,
+    That with so lucky, and auspicious fate
+    Did still attend them, whilst they liuing were,
+    And gaue their Verses such a lasting date.
+    Where slightly passing by the _Thespian_ spring,
+    Many long after did but onely sup;
+    Nature, then fruitfull, forth these men did bring,
+    To fetch deep Rowses from _Ioues_ plentious cup.
+        In thy free labours (friend) then rest content,
+    Feare not _Detraction_, neither fawne on _Praise_:                30
+    When idle _Censure_ all her force hath spent,
+    _Knowledge_ can crowne her self with her owne Baies.
+    Their Lines, that haue so many liues outworne,
+    Cleerely expounded shall base Enuy scorne.
+
+                                  _Michael Drayton._
+
+
+Prefixed to Book ij. of _Primaleon_, &c. Translated by Anthony Munday
+(1619).
+
+_OF THE WORKE_ _and Translation._
+
+    _If in opinion of iudiciall wit,_
+    Primaleons_ sweet Invention well deserue:
+    Then he (no lesse) which hath translated it,
+    Which doth his sense, his forme, his phrase, obserue.
+    And in true method of his home-borne stile,
+    (Following the fashion of a French conceate)
+    Hath brought him heere into this famous Ile,
+    Where but a stranger, now hath made his seate.
+      He liues a Prince, and comming in this sort,
+      Shall to his Countrey of your fame report._
+
+                                  M.D.
+
+
+From _Annalia Dubrensia_ (1636).
+
+TO MY NOBLE Friend Mr. ROBERT DOVER, on his braue annuall
+_Assemblies_ vpon _Cotswold_.
+
+    Douer, to doe thee Right, who will not striue,
+    That dost in these dull yron Times reuiue
+    The golden Ages glories; which poore Wee
+    Had not so much as dream't on but for Thee?
+    As those braue _Grecians_ in their happy dayes,
+    On Mount Olympus to their _Hercules_
+    Ordain'd their games Olimpick, and so nam'd
+    Of that great Mountaine; for those pastimes fam'd:
+    Where then their able Youth, Leapt, Wrestled, Ran,
+    Threw the arm'd Dart; and honour'd was the _Man_                  10
+    That was the Victor; In the Circute there
+    The nimble Rider, and skill'd Chariotere
+    Stroue for the Garland; In those noble Times
+    There to their Harpes the Poets sang their Rimes;
+    That whilst _Greece_ flourisht, and was onely then
+    Nurse of all Arts, and of all famous men:
+    Numbring their yeers, still their accounts they made,
+    Either from this or that _Olimpiade_.
+    So _Douer_, from these _Games_, by thee begun,
+    Wee'l reckon Ours, as time away doth run.                         20
+    Wee'l haue thy Statue in some Rocke cut out,
+    With braue Inscriptions garnished about;
+    And vnder written, _Loe, this was the man,_
+    DOVER, _that first these noble Sports began._
+    Ladds of the Hills, and Lasses of the Vale,
+    In many a song, and many a merry Tale
+    Shall mention Thee; and hauing leaue to play,
+    Vnto thy name shall make a Holy day.
+    The _Cosswold_ Shepheards as their flockes they keepe,
+    To put off lazie drowsinesse and sleepe,                          30
+    Shall sit to tell, and heare thy Story tould,
+    That night shall come ere they their flocks can fould.
+
+                                  _Michaell Drayton._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES
+
+
+These notes are not intended to supply materials for the criticism of
+the text. So freely, indeed, did Drayton alter his poems for a fresh
+edition, that the ordinary machinery of an _apparatus criticus_ would be
+overtasked if the attempt were made. All that has been undertaken here
+is to provide the requisite information in places where the text
+followed seemed open to suspicion.
+
+It may be added that the punctuation of the originals has in general
+been preserved; in a few flagrant instances, where the text as it stood
+was misleading, it has been modified. Such changes are not noted here.
+
+  2,  1, l.  14    vertues] vertuous 1619
+
+  3,  3, l.   1    Ioue] loue 1599, 1602, 1605
+
+         l.   3    them forth,] them, forth 1599. _But the 1619 version
+                     supports the reading in the text._
+
+  5,  8, l.   8    men] ones 1599: women 1619
+
+         l.   9    to 1599, 1619: of 1594
+
+  6,  9, l.  11    in] on 1602
+
+     10, l.  12    her] his 1602: their 1619
+
+  8, 14, l.  14    anatomize 1599. _But there is ground for believing
+                     that_ anotamize _represents a current
+                     pronunciation._
+
+  9, 15, l.  10    She'st] ? She'll
+
+ 10, 17, l.   9    Were] Where 1594
+
+     18, l.   5    Elizia] Elizium 1599
+
+ 11, 20, l.  10    whir-poole] whirl-poole 1602
+
+         l.  12    Helycon] Helicon 1602
+
+ 14, 26, l.   5    Thy 1599 etc.: The 1594
+
+ 15, 27, l.   4    Thus] This 1594
+
+         l.  12    depriued] ? depraued
+
+ 18, 33, l.   3    Wishing] Wisheth 1599
+
+ 19, 36, l.  13    And others] And eithers 1599
+
+ 20, 37, l.   4    euer-certaine] neuer-certaine 1602
+
+ 28,  1, l.   4    song] sung 1613
+
+ 31, 10, l.   2    bids] bad 1619
+
+         l.  12    my ... his] his ... my 1619
+
+ 37, 30, l.  14    hollowed] halowed 1605: hallow'd 1619. _But cf._ 94,
+                   l. 18.
+
+ 38, 43, l.   3    Wherein 1602, 1605: Where, in 1619: Wherein 1599
+
+ 39, 44, l.   4    Paynting] Panting 1608
+
+         l.   8    Wherein 1602, 1605, 1619: Where in 1599
+
+ 40, 55, l.   7    forces heere,] forces, here 1619
+
+     56, _heading_ A Consonet] A Cansonet 1602
+
+ 41, 57, l.  13    yet] then 1595
+
+ 42, 17, ll. 4, 13 Promethius] Prometheus 1605
+
+ 43, 27, l.   2    Who can he loue? 1608: Who? can he loue: 1619
+
+         l.  12    They resolute,] They resolute? 1608, 1619
+
+ 44, 31, l.   4    appose] oppose 1608, 1619
+
+         l.   9    They 1619: The 1602, 1605, 1608
+
+ 48, 47, l.   8    a 1619: and 1605, 1608
+
+ 49, 51, l.   1    to 1608: _omitted in_ 1605
+
+ 53, 21, l.  11    soe] ? loe
+
+         l.  13    Troth] Froth 1619
+
+ 71,     l.  16    scowles] scoulds 1606
+
+         l.  37    whome 1606: whose 1619
+
+         l.  41    rage 1606: age 1619
+
+ 74,     l.  25    he 1619: shee 1606
+
+ 77,     l.  34    some few 1606: some, few 1619
+
+ 79,     l.  10    their] ? there.
+
+ 83,     l.  72    Stuck] _The emendation_ Struck _is tempting (the form
+                     is somewhat uncommon but not unparalleled);
+                     especially in view of_ l. 80.
+
+ 94,     l.  18    hollow'd] _cf._ 37, 30, l. 14
+
+ 96,     l. 120    the] _no doubt a printer's error for_ they
+
+ 97,     l. 125    be lowe] belowe 1627
+
+ 97,     l. 126    whether] whethet 1627
+
+ 98,     l.  37    it] _omitted in_ 1627
+
+101,     l.  62    be] ? been
+
+104,     l.  88    him] ? them
+
+         l.  94    ceaze 1620: lease 1627
+
+106,     l.  37    his] _omitted in_ 1631
+
+         l.  56    warnd] warne 1627
+
+110,     l. 105    Neat] Next _conj. Beeching_
+
+118,    _heading_  Chaplaine] Chapliane 1627
+
+120,     l.  81    extirpe 1631: extipe 1627
+
+146,     l.  90    fett] sett _and_ frett _have been conjectured._
+
+153,     l.  92    debate] delate 1627
+
+154,     l. 115    claue] ? cleaue
+
+156,     l. 220    euery] euer 1627
+
+174,     l. 225    wither] whither 1630
+
+177,     l. 343    rawe] taw 1748
+
+192,     l.  18    there] they 1630
+
+232,     l.  12    vnto] vp to 1619
+
+233,     l.  53    fame] faire 1606
+
+234,     l.  66    moue] mock 1606
+
+238,     l.  25    feature] features 1619
+
+240,     l.  99    long] loue 1606
+
+242, _Ecl. ij,_ l. 21  moane 1600: moans 1605
+
+243,     l.  55    But it if the Male doth want 1619
+
+244,     l.  37    along she went 1619: she went along 1606
+
+245,     l.  43    lowe] loud 1600, 1619
+
+247,     l.  37    glories 1619: glorious 1606
+
+
+ERRATA
+
+Page  94, l.   5  _for_ of said _read_ said
+
+  "  173, l. 170  _for_ you _read_ your
+
+
+
+
+Oxford
+Printed at the Clarendon Press
+By Horace Hart, M.A.
+Printer to the University
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:52:03 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:52:03 -0700
commit	5d46525635aafe0849dd03b22073ddeee576a6e5 (patch)
tree	500b76da4345d763c83ac1c224f451e6260bda51