The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper

Now manacling his hands, then on his legs What mighty conquests were achiev'd by him. Like fetters hang the under growing segs :

First stood the siege of great Jerusalein, And bad his teeth not beene of strongest hold, Within whose triple wall and sacred citie He there had left his prey. Pates oncontrold, (Weepe ye stone-hearted men! ob read and pittie ! Denide so great a blisse to plants or meii,

"Tis Sion's cause invokes your briny tears : And lent bio strength to bring her to his den. Can any dry eye be when she appears

West, in Apollo's course to Tagus' streame; As I mast sing her? Oh! if such there be; Crown'd with a silver cireling dyademe

Flye, flye th' abode of men! and hasten thee Of wet exaled tists, there stood a pile

Into the desart, some high mountaine under, Of aged rockes, (torne from the neighbour ile Or at thee boyes will hisse, and old men wonder.). And girt with waves) againsť whose naked brest Here sits a mother weeping, pale and wan, The surges tilted, on his snowy crest

"Vith fixed eyes, whose hopeles thought seem'd ran The tow'ring falcon whilome built, and kings How" (since for many dayes no food she tasted, Strove for that cirie, on whose scaling wings ller meale, her oyle consum'd, all spent, all svasted) Monarchs, in gold refin'd as much would lay For one poore day she might attaine supply, As might a wonth their army royall pay. skin And desp'rate of aught else, sit, pine, and dye. Brave birds they were, whiuse quick selfe-less'ning At last her mind meets with her tender childe Still wonne the girlonds from the peregrin. That in the cradle lay (of ozyers wilde) Not Cerna ile' in Affric's silver mayne,

Which taken in her arms, she gives the teate, Nor lustfull-bloody Tereus' Thracian strayne, From whence the little wretch with labour great Nor any other lording of the ayre

Not one poor drop can sucke: whereat sbe wood, Durst with his eirie for their wing compare. Cryes out, “ ( Heaven! are all the founts of food About his sides a thousand seaguls bred,

Exhausted quite and must my infant yong The mevy, and the balcyou famosed

Be fed with shooes ? yet wanting those ere long, For colours rare, and for the peacefall seas Feed on itselfe? No, first the roome that gave Round the Sicilian coast, her brooding dayes. Him soule and life, shall be his timelesse grave : Puffins (as thicke as starlings in a fen) [hen, My dugs, thy best réliefe, through griping hunger Were fetcht from thence: there sate the pewet Flow now no more my babe ; then since no longer And in the clefts the martio built bis nest.

By me thou canst be fed nor any other, But those by this curst caitife dispossest

Be thou the nurse, and feed thy dying mother." Of roost and nest, the least ; of life, the most : Then in another place she straight appeares All left that place, and sought a safer coast. Seething her suckling in her scalding teares. Instead of them the caterpiller hants,

From whence not farre the painter made her stand And cancre-worine among the tender plants, Tearing his sod flesh with her cruell hand, That here and there in nooks and corners grew; In gobbets which she ate. O cursed wombe, Of cormorants and locusts not a few;

That to thyselfe art both the grave and tombe. The cramming raven, and a hundred more

A little sweet lad, there, seemes to entreat Devouring creatures; yet when from the shore (With held up hands) bis famisht sire for meate, Limos came wading (as he easily might

Who wanting aught to give his hoped joy Except at high tydes,) all would take their fight, But throbs and sighes; the over hungry boy, Or hjde themselves in some deep hole or other For some poore bit, in darke nookes making quest, Lest one devourer should devour another.

His sachelt findes, which growes a gladsome feast .Neere to the shore that' bord’red on the rocke To hiin and both his parents. Then, next day No merry swaine was seene to feed bis flocke, He chewes the points, wherewith he as'd to play: No lusty neat-heard thither drove his kine, Devouring last his bookes of ev'ry kinde, Nor boorish hog-heard fed his rooting swine : They fed Tris body which should feede his mine : A stony ground it was, sweet herbage failu: But when his sachell, points, bookes all were goae, Nought there but weeds, which Lianos, strongly Before his sire he droopes, and dyes anotte. nayld,

In height of art then had the work-man done Tore from their mother's brest, to stuffe his maw. A pious, zealous, most religious sonne, No crab-tree bore his loade, nor thorn bis haw. Who on the enemy excursion made, As in a forest well compléat with deere

And spite of danger strongly did juvade We see the hollyes, ashes, every where

Their vittailes' conroy, bringing from them home Rob'd of their cloathing by the browsing game : Dry'd figs, dates, almonds, and such fruits as come So ncere the rocke, all trees were e're you came To the beleag'ring foe, and sates the want To cold December's wrath stood void of barke. Therewith of those, who, from a tender plant Here danc'd no nymph, no early-rising larke Bred him a man for armes : thus oft he went, Sung up the plow-man and his drowsie mate: And storke-like sought his parent's nourishment, All round the rocke barren and desolate.

Till fates decreed, he on the Roman speares In midst of that huge pyle was Limos' cave Should give his bloud for them, who gave him theirs. Full large and round, wherein a miller's knave A million of such throes did famine bring Might for his horse and querne have roome at Upon the citie of the mighty king, will;

TiH, as her people, all'her buildings rare Where was out-drawne by some inforced skill, Consum'd themselves and dim’d the lightsome afre.

Neere this the curious pencell did expresse ? Not the Cerne of Pliny, but the island of Man- A large and solitary wildernesse, ritius, discovered by the Hollanders, 1598; fowls Whose high well-limned oakes in growing show'd are here innumerable apii of great variety; soine As they would ease strong Atlas of his load: so tame that they will suffer a man almost to touch them. Ser Oplevy's Africa, p. 715.

• See Josephus's Wars of the Jews, b. 7. c. &

Here underneath a tree in heavy plight

Twice hail the cocke crowne, and in cities strong (Her bread and pot of water wasted quite) The bel-man's dolefull noyse and carefull song, Ægyptian Hagar', (nipt with hunger fell) Told men, whose watchfull eyes no slumber hent Sate rob'd of hope: her infant Ishmael

What store of houres theft-guilty night had speut. (Farre from her being laid) full sadly seem'd Yet had not Morpheus with his maiden been, To cry for meate, bis cry she nought esteem'd, As fearing Limos; (whose impetuous teen But kept her still, and turn'd her face away, Kept gentle rest from all to whom bis cave Knowing all meanes were bootlesse to assay

Yeelded inclosure (deadly as the grave.) In such a desert : and since now they must But to all sad laments. left her, forlorne, Sleepe their eternal sleepe, and cleave to dust, In which three watches she had nye outworno. She chose (apart) to graspe one death, alone,

Fair silver-footed Thetis that time threw Rather than by her babe a million.

Along the ocean with a beautious crew Then Erisichthon's case in Ovid's song? Of her attending sea-nymphes (Jove's bright lamps Was puertrayed out; and many moe along Guiding from rockes her cbariot's hyppocamps".) The insides of the cave; which were descride A journey, onely made, unwares to spye By many loope-holes round on every side. If any mighties of her empery

These faire Marina vjew'd, left all alone, Opprest the least, and forc'd the weaker sort The cave fast shut. Limos for pillage gone : To their designes, by being great in court. Neere the wash'd shore 'mong roots, and breers, O! should all potentates whose higher birth and thoros,

Enroles their titles, other gods on Earth, A bollocke findes, who delving with his hornes Should they make private search, in vaile of night, The hurtlesse earth, (the while his tough hoofe For cruell wrongs done by each favourite; The yeelding torffe) in furious rage he bure (toore Here should they finde a great one paling in His head among the boughs that held it round, A mean man's land, which many yeeres had bin While with his bellowes all the shores resound : His charge's life, and by the other's beast, Him Liiņos kil'd, and hal'd with no small paine The poore must starve to feede a scurvy beast. Unto the rocke; fed well; then goes againe : If any recompence drop from his fist, Which serv'd Marina fit, for had his food

His time's his owne, the mony, what he list. Fail'd him, herveynes had faild their deerest bloud. There should they see another that commands

Now great Hyperion' left his golden throne His farmer's teame from furrowing his lands, That' on the dancing waves in glory shone, To bring bim stones to raise his building vast, For whose declining on the western shore

The while his tenant's sowing time is past. The orientall bils blacke mantles wore,

Another (spending,) doth bis rents inhance, And thence apace the gentle twi-light Aed, Or gets by trickes the poore's inheritance. That had from hideous caverns ushered

But as a man whose age hath dim'd his eyes All-drowsie night; who in a carre of jet,

Useth his spectacles, and as he pryes By steeds of iron-gray (which mainely swet (skye, Through them all characters seeme wond'rous faire, Moist drops on all the world) drawne through the Yet when his glasses quite removed are The helpes of darknesse waited orderly.

(Though with ali carefull heed he neerly looke) First, thické clouds rose from all the liquid plaines: Cannot perceive one tittle in the booke, Then mists froin marishes, and grounds whose So if a king behold such favourites veynes

(Whose being great, was being parasites,) Were conduit pipes to many a christall spring : With th' eyes of favour; all their actions are From standing pooles and fens were following To bim appearing plaine and regular: Unhealthy fogs : each river, every rill

But let him lay his sight of grace aside, Sent up their vapours to attend her will. (Heaven, And see what men he hath so dignifide, These pitchy curtains drew 'twixt Earth and They all would vanish, and not dare appeare, And as Night's chariot through the arye was driven, who atoin-like, when their sun shined cleare, Clamour grew dymb, unheard was shepheard's Danc'd in his beame; but now his rayes are gone, song,

Of many hundred we perceive not one. And silence girt the woods ; no warbling tongue Or as a man who standing to descry Talk'd to the echo; satyres broke their dance, How great foods farre off run, and vallies lye, And all the upper world lay in a trance.

Taketh a glasse prospective good and true, Onely the curled streames soft chidings kept ; By which things most remote are full in view : And little gales that from the greene leafe swept If monarchs, so, would take an instrument Dry summer's dust, in fearefull whisp'rings stir'd, of truth compos'd to spie their subjects drent As loath to waken any singing bird.

In foule oppression by those high in seate, Darknesse no lesse than blinde Cimmerian (Who care not to be good, but to be great) Of famine's cave the full possession wan,

In full aspect the wrongs of each degree Where lay the shepheardesse invarpt with night; Would Iye before them; and they then would see. (The wished garment of a mournfull wight) The divelisb polititian all convinces, Here silken slumbers and refreshing sleepe In murd'ring statesmen and in pois'ning princes; Were seldom found ; with quiet' mindes those The prelate in pluralities asleepe keepe,

Whilst that the wolfe lyes preying on his sheepe; Not with disturbed thoughts; the beds of kings The drowsie lawyer, and the false atturnies Are never prest by them, sweet rest inrings Tire poore men's purses with their life-long journyes; The tyred body of the swarty clowne,

The country gentleman, from his neighbour's hand And oft'ner lies on Rocks than softest downe. Forceth th' inheritance, joynes land to land,

? Genesis, ch. 21.

Lo Metamorphoses, b. 8.

"Sea-horges

And (most insatiate) seekes under his rent
To bring the world's most spacious continent;
The fawning citizen (whose love's bought deerest)
Deceives his brother when the Sun shines clearest,
Gets, borrowes, breakes, lets in, and stops out light,
And lives a knave to leave his sonne a knight;
The griping fariner hoords the seed of bread,
While in the streets the poore lye famished;
And free there's none from all this worldly strife,
Except the shepheard's heaven-blest happy life.
But stay, sweet Muse! forbeare this harsher
straine,
[veyne,
Keepe with the shepheards; leave the satyres
Coupe not with beares; let Icarus alone
To scorch himselfe within the torrid zone,
Let Phaeton run on, Ixion fall,
And with a humble stiled pastorall
Tread through the vallies, dance about the
The lowly dales will yeeld us anadems
To shade our temples, 'tis a worthy meed,
No better girlond seekes mine oaten reede;
Let others climbe the hils, and to their praise
(Whilst I sit girt with flowers) be crown'd with
bayes.

[streames,

Show now faire Muse what afterward became
Of great Achilles' mother; she whose name
The mermaids sing, and tell the weeping strand
A braver lady never tript on land,
Except the ever living Fayerie Queene,
Whose vertues by her swaine so written beene,
That time shall call her high enhanced story
In his rare song, "The Muse's chiefest glory."
So mainely Thetis drove her silver throne,
Inlaid with pearles of price and precious stone,
(For whose gay purchase, she did often make
The scorched negro drive the briny lake)
That by the swiftnesse of her chariot wheels
(Scouring the maine as well-built English keels)
She of the new-found world all coasts had seene,
The shores of Thessaly, where she was queene,
Her brother Pontus' waves, imbras'd, with those
Maotian fields and vales of Tenedos, [sound
Streit Hellespont, whose high-brow'd cliffes yet
The mournefull name of young Leander drown'd,
Then with full speede her horses doth she guide
Through the Ægæan sea, that takes a pride
In making difference 'twixt the fruitfull lands,
Europe and Asia almost joining hands,
But that she thrusts her billowes all affront
To stop their meeting through the Hellespont.
The midland sea so swiftly was she scouring,
The Adriaticke gulfe brave ships devouring,
To Padus' silver streame then glides she on
(Enfamoused by rekeles' Phaeton 1)
Fadus that doth beyond his limits rise,
When the hot dog-starre raines his maladies,
And robs the high and ayre-invading Alpes
Of all their winter suites and snowy scalpes,.
To drowne the level'd lands along his shore,
And make him swell with pride. By whom of yore
The sacred Heliconian damsels sate,
(To whom was mighty Pindus consecrate)
And did decree (neglecting other men)

Their height of art should flow from Maro's pen;
And prattling eccho's evermore should long
For repetition of sweet Nasos song.
It was inacted here, in after dayes
What wights should have their temples crown'd

Plin. lib. 3. cap. 16.

[with bayes;

Learn'd Ariosto, holy Petrarch's quill,
And Tasso 13 should ascend the Muse's hill;
Divinest Bartas, whose enriched soule
Proclaim'd his Maker's worth, should so enroute
His happy name in brasse, that time nor fate
That swallow all, should ever ruinate;
Delightful Salust, whose all blessed layes
The shepheards make their hymnes on holy-dayes,
And truly say thou in one weeke hast pend
What time may ever study, ne're amend;
Marot and Ronsard, Garnier's 1 buskin'd Muse
Should spirit of life in very stones infuse;
And many another swan whose powerfull straine
Should raise the golden world to life againe.

But let us leave (faire Muse) the bankes of Po,
Thetis forsooke his brave streame long agoe,
And we must after. See in haste she sweepes
Along the Celtic shores, th' Armoric deepes
She now is ent'ring: beare up then a-head
And by that time she hath discovered.
Our alabaster rockes, we may discry
And stem with her the coasts of Britany.
There will she anchor cast, to heare the songs
Of English shepheards, whose all tunefull tongues
So pleas'd the Nayades, they did report
Their songs perfection in great Nereus' court:
Which Thetis hearing, did appoint a day
When she would meet them in the British sea,
And thither for each swaine a dolphin bring
To ride with her, while she would heare him sing.
The time prefixt was come; and now the starre
Of blissefull light appear'd, when she her carre
Stai'd in the narrow seas. At Thames' faire

port

The nymphes and shepheards of the isle resort;
And thence did put to sea with mirthfull rounds,
Whereat the billowes dance above their bounds,
And bearded goates, that on the clouded head
Of any sea-survaying mountaine fed,
Leaving to crop the ivy, list'ning stood
At those sweet ayres which did intrance the flood..
In jocund sort the goddesse thus they met.
And after rev'rence done, all being set
Upon their fenny coursers, round her throne,
And she prepar'd to cut the watry zone
Ingirting Albion; all their pipes were still,
And Colin Clout 1 began to tune his quill,
With such deepe art that every one was given
To think Apollo (newly slid from Heav'n)
Had tane a human shape to win his love,
Or with the westerne swaines for glory strove.
He sung th' heroicke knights of Faiery-land
In lines so elegant, of such command,
That bad the Thracian plaid but halfe so well
He had not left Eurydice in Hell.

[praise

But e're he ended his melodious song
An host of angels flew the clouds among,
And rapt this swan from his attentive mates,
To make him one of their associates
In Heaven's faire quire: where now he sings the
Of Him that is the first and last of dayes.
Divinest. Spencer, heav'n-bred, happy Muse!
Would any power into my braine-infuse
Thy worth, or all that poets had before,

I could not praise till thou deserv'st no more.
A dampe of wonder and amazement strooke
Thetis attendants, many a heavy looke

13 Three Italian poets.
! Spenser.

14 French poets,
14 Orpheus.

Follow'd sweet Spencer, till the thick'ning ayre
Sight's further passage stop'd. A passionate teare
Fell from each nymph, no shepheard's cheeke was
A dolefull dirge, and mournefull elegit [dry,
Flew to the shore. When mighty Nereus' queene
(In memory of what was heard and seene)
Imploy'd a factor, (fitted well with store
Of richest jemmes, refined Indian ore)
To raise, in honour of his worthy name
A piramis, whose head (like winged Fame) [kisse,
Should pierce the clouds, yea seeme the stars to
And Mausolus' great toome might shrowd in his.
Her will had been performance, had not Fate
(That never knew how to commiserate)
Suborn'd curs'd Avarice to lye in waite
For that rich prey: (gold is a taking baite)
Who closely lurking like a subtile snake
Under the covert of a thorny brake,
Seiz'd on the factor by fayre Thetis sent,
And rob'd onr Colin of his monument.

The English shepheards, sonnes of memory,
For satyres change your pleasing melody,
Scourge, raile and curse that sacrilegious hand,
That more than fiend of Hell, that Stygian brand,
All-guilty Avarice: that worst of evill,
That gulfe devouring offspring of a divell:
Heape curse on curse so direfull and so fell,
Their waight may presse his damned soul to Hell.
Is their a spirit so gentle can refraine
To torture such? O let a satyre's veyne
Mixe with that man! to lash his hellish lym,
Or all our curses will descend on him.

[spend

For mine owne part although I now commerce With lowly shepheards in as low a verse; If of my dayes I shall not see an end Till more yeeres presse me; some few houres ile In rough-hewn satyres, and my busied pen Shall jerke to death this infamy of men. And like a fury, glowing coulters bare, With which-But see how yonder foundlings teare Their fleeces in the brakes; I must go free Them of their bonds; rest you here merrily Till my returne; when I will touch a string Shall make the rivers dance, and vallyes ring.

BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS.

THE SECOND SONG.

THE ARGUMENT.

What shepheards on the sea were seene
To entertaine the Ocean's queene,
Remond in search of Fida gone,
And for his love young Deridon,
Their meeting with a wofull swaine,
Mute, and not able to complaine
His metamorphos'd mistresse' wrong;
Is all the subject of this song.

THE Muse's friend (gray-eyde Aurora) yet
Held all the meadows in a cooling sweat,
The milk-white gossamores not upwards snow'd,
Nor was the sharp and usefull steering goad
Laid on the strong-neckt oxe; no gentle bud
The Sun had dryde; the cattle chew'd the cud

Low leveld on the grasse; no flye's quicke sting
Inforc'd the stonehorse in a furious ring
To teare the passive earth, nor lash his taile
About his buttockes broad; the slimy snayle
Might on the wainscot (by his many mazes
Winding meanders and selfe-knitting traces)
Be follow'd, where he stucke, his glittering slime
Not yet wipt off. It was so earely time
The carefull smith had in his sooty forge
Kindled no coale; nor did his hammers urge
His neighbour's patience: owles abroad did flye,
And day as then might plead his infancy.
Yet of faire Albion all the westerne swaines
Were long since up, attending on the plaines
When Nereus' daughter with her mirthfull hoast
Should summon them, on their declining coast.

But since her stay was long: for feare the
Sunne

Should find them idle, some of them begunne
To leape and wrastle, others threw the barre,
Some from the company removed are
To meditate the songs they meant to play,
Or make a new round for next holiday;
Some tales of love their love sicke fellowes told:
Others were seeking stakes to pitch their fold.
This, all alone was mending of his pipe: [ripe.
That, for his lasse sought fruits most sweet, most
Here, (from the rest) a lovely shepheard's boy
Sits piping on a hill, as if his joy

Would still endure, or else that age's frost
Should never make him thinke what he had lost.
Yonder a shepheardesse knits by the springs,
Her hands still keeping time to what she sings :
Or seeming, by her song, those fairest hands
Were comforted working. Neere the sands
Of some sweet river sits a musing lad,
That moanes the losse of what he sometimes had,
His love by death bereft: when fast by him
An aged swaine takes place, as neere the brim
Of's grave as of the river; showing how
That as those floods, which passe along right now,
Are follow'd still by others from their spring,
"And in the sea have all their burying:"
Right so our times are knowne, our ages found,
(Nothing is permanent within this round:)
One age is now, another that succeedes,
Extirping all things which the former breedes:
Another followes that, doth new times raise,
New yeers, new months, new weeks, new hours,

new days,

Mankinde thus goes like rivers from their spring
"And in the earth have all their burying.”
Thus sate the olde man counselling the yong;
Whilst, underneath a tree which over-hung
The silver streame, (as, some delight it tooke
To trim his thick boughes in the chrystall brooke)
Were set a jocund crew of youthfull swaines
Wooing their sweetings with dilicious straynes.
Sportive Oreades the hills descended,
The Hamadryades.their hunting ended,
And in the high woods left the long-liv'd harts
To feed in peace, free from their winged darts;
Floods, mountains, vallies, woods, each vacant lyes
Of nymphs that by them danc'd their haydigyes..
For all those powers were ready to embrace
The present meanes, to give our shepheards grace..
And underneath this tree (till Thetis came)
Many resorted; where a swaine, of name
Lesse, than of worth: (and we doe never owne
Nor apprehend him best, that most is knowne.)

[lovers."

Fame is uncertaine, who so swiftly flyes
By th' unregarded shed where Vertue lyes,
She (ill inform'd of Vertue's worth) pursu'th
(In haste) opinion for the simple truth
True Fame is ever likened to our shade,
He soonest misseth her, that most hath made
To over-take her; who so takes his wing,
Regardlesse of her, she'll be following:
Her true proprietie she thus discovers,
"Loves her contemners, and contemnes her
Th' applause of common people never yet
Pursu'd this swaine, he knew't the counterfeit
Of settled praise, and therefore at his songs
Though all the shepheards and the graceful throngs
Of semi-gods compar'd him with the best
That ever touch'd a reede, or was addrest
In shepheard's coate, he never would approve
Their attributes, given in sincerest love;
Except he truly knew them, as his merit.
Fame gives a second life to such a spirit.

This swaine, intreated by the mirthfull rout,
That with intwined armes lay round about
The tree 'gainst which he leand. (So have I seene
Tom Piper stand upon our village greene,
Backt with the May-pole, whilst a jocund crew.
In gentle motion circularly threw
Then selves about him.) To his fairest ring
Thus 'gan in numbers well according sing:

"VENUS by Adonis' side

Crying kist and kissing cryde,

Wrung her hands and tore her hayre For Adonis dying there.

Stay,' (quoth she) O stay and live! Nature surely doth not give

To the earth her sweetest flowres
To be seene but some few houres.'

"On his face, still as he bled
For each drop a tear she shed,
Which she kist or wipt away,
Else had drown'd him where he lay.
"Fair Proserpina' (quoth she)
Shall not have thee yet from me;
Nor thy soul to flye begin
While my lips can keepe it in.'
"Here she clos'd again. And some
Say, Apollo would have come
To have cur'd his wounded lym,
But that she had smother'd him."

Looke as a traveller in summer's day
Nye-chookt with dust, and molt with Titan's ray,
Longs for a spring to coole his inward heate,
And to that end, with vowes, doth Heaven intreat,
When going further, finds an apple-tree
(Standing as did old Hospitalitie,

With ready armes to succour any needes :)
Hence pluckes an apple, tastes it, and it breedes
So great a liking in him for his thirst,
That up he climbes, and gathers to the first
A second, third; nay, will not cease to pull
Till he have got his cap and pockets full.
"Things long desir'd so well esteemed are,
That when they come we hold them better farre.
There is no meane 'twixt what we love and want,
Desire, in men, is so predominant."
No lesse did all his quaint assembly long
Than doth the traveller: this shepheard's song

Had so ensnar'd each acceptable care,
That but a second, nought could bring them cleare
From an affected snare; had Orpheus beene
Playing, some distance from thein, he had seene
Not one to stirre a foote for his rare straine,
But left the Thracian for the English swaine.
Or had suspicious Juno (when her Jove
Into a cowe transform'd his fairest love 1)
Great Inachus' sweet stem in durance given
To this young lad; the messenger2 of Heaven
(Fair Maia's off-spring) with the depth of art
That ever Jove or Hermes might impart,
In fing'ring of a reede had never wonne
Poor lö's freedome. And though Arctor's sonne
(Hundred-ey'd Argus) might be lull'd by him,
And loose his pris'ner: yet in every lym
That god of wit had felt this shepheard's skill.
And by his charms brought from the Muse's hill
Inforc'd to sleepe; then, rob'd of pipe and rod,
And vanquish'd so, turne swaine, this swaine a god.
Yet to this lad not wanted Envie's sting,
("He's not worth ought, that's not worth envying.")
Since many at his praise were scene to gratch.
For as a miller in his boulting hutch
Drives out the pure meale neerly, (as he can)
And in his sifter leaves the courser bran:
So doth the canker of a poet's name
Let slip such lines as might inherit fame,
And from a volume culs some small amisse,
To fire such dogged spleenes as mate with bis.
Yet, as a man that (by his art) would bring
The ceaslesse current of a christall spring
To over-looke the lowly flowing head,
Sinckes, by degrees, his soder'd pipes of lead
Beneath the fount, whereby the water goes
High, as well as on a mountaine flowes:
So when detraction and a Cynpic's tongue
Have sunk desert unto the depth of wrong,
By that, the eye of skill, true worth shall see
To brave the starres, though low his passage be.
But, here I much digresse, yet pardon, swaines:
For as a maiden gath'ring on the plaines
A sentfull nosegay (to set neere her pap,
Or as a favour, for her shepheard's cap)
Is seene farre off to stray, if she have spide
A flower that might increase her posie's pride:
So if to wander I am sometime prest,
'Tis for a straine that might adorne the rest.

Requests, that with deniall could not meet,
Flew to our shepheard, and the voyces sweet
Of fairest nymphes intreating him to say
What wight he lov'd; he thus began his lay:

"SHALL. I tell you whom I love!
Hearken then a while to me;
And if such a woman move

As I now shall versifie;
Be assur'd, 'tis she, or none
That I love, and love alone.
"Nature did her so much right,
As she scornes the help of art.
In as many vertues dight

As e're yet imbrac'd a hart.
So much good so truely tride
Some for lesse were deifide.

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-kirjat

The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Including ..., Nide 6