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Follow'd sweet Spencer, till the thick’ning ayre Low leveld on the grasse ; no flye's quicke sting Sight's further passage stop'd. A passionate teare loforc'd the stonehorse in a furious ring Fell from each nymph, no shepheard's cheeke was To teare the passive earth, nor lash his taile, A dolefull dirge, and mournefall elegie (dry, About his buttockes broad; the slimy snayle · Flew to the shore. When mighty Nereus' queene Might on the wainscot (by his many mazes (In memory of what was heard and seene)
Winding meanders and selfe-knitting traces) Imployd a factor, (fitted well with store
Re follow'd, where he stucke, bis glittering slime Of richest jemmes, refined Indian gre)
Not yet wipt off. It was so earely time To raise, in honour of his worthy name
The carefull smith had in his sooty forge A piramis, whose head (like winged Fame) [kisse, Kindled no coale; nor did his hammers urge Should pierce the clouds, yea seeme the stars to His neighbour's patience : owles abroad did flye, And Mausolus' great toome might shrowd in his. And day as then might plead his infancy. Her will had been performance, had not Fate Yet of faire Albion all the westerne swaines (That never knew how to commiserate)
Were long since up, attending on the plaines Suborn'd curs'd Avarice to lye in waite
When Nereus' daighter with her mirthfull boast, For that rich prey: (gold is a taking baite) Should sommon them, on their declining coast. Who closely lurking like a subtile snake
But since her stay was long: for feare the Under the covert of a thorny brake,
Sunne Seiz'd on the factor by fayre Thetis sent,
Should find them idle, some of them begonne and rob'd onr Colin of his monument.
To leape and wrastle, others threw the barre, The English shepheards, sonnes of memory, Some from the company removed are For satyres change your pleasing melody, To meditate the songs they meant to play, Scourge, raile and curse that sacrilegious hand,
Or make a new round for next holiday ; That more than fiend of Hell, that Stygian brand, Some tales of love their love sicke fellowes told : All-gailty Avarice: that worst of evill,
Others were seeking stakes to pitch their fold. That gulfe devouring offspring of a divell :
This, al! alone was mending of his pipe : [ripe. Heape curse on curse so direfull and so fell, That, for his lasse sought fruits most sweet, most Their waight may presse his damned soul to Hell. Here, (from the rest) a lovely sliep heard's boy Is their a' spirit so gentle can refraine
Sits piping on a hill, as if his joy To torture such? O let a satyre's veyne
Would still endure, or else that age's frost Mixe with that man! to lash his hellish lyin,
Should never make himn thinke what he had lost. Or all our curses will descend on him.
Yonder a shepheardesse knits by the springs, for mine owne part although I now commerce
Her hands still keeping time to what she sings : With lowly shepheards in as low a verse;
Or seeming, by her song, those fairest hands If of my dayes I shall not see an end (spend / Were comforted working. Neere the sands Till more yeeres presse me; some few houres ile Of some sweet river sits a musing lad, In rough-hewn satyres, and my busied pen That moanes the losse of what he sometimes had, Shall jerke to death this infamy of men.
His love by death bereft :: when fast by him And like a fury, glowing coulters bare,
An aged swaine takes place, as neere the brim With which“But see how yonder foundlings teare Of's grave as of the river ; showing how Their fleeces in the brakes; I must go free
That as those foods, which passe along right now, Them of their bonds; rest you here merrily
Are follow'd still by others from their spring, Till my returne; when I will touch a string
“ And in the sea have all their burying:” Shall make the rivers dance, and rallycs ring.
Right so our times are knowne, our ages found,
Extirping all things wbich the former breedes:
Another followes that, doth new times raise,
New yeers, new months, new weeks, new hours, THE SECOND SONG.
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 ; What shepheards on the sea were seene
Whilst, underneath a tree which over-hung To entertaine the Ocean's queene,
Che silver streame, (as, some delight it tooke Remond in search of Fida gone,
To trim his thick boughes in the chrystall brooke)
Were set a jocund crew of youthfull swaines And for his love young Deridon,
Wooing their sweetings with dilicious straynes. Their meeting with a wofull swaine,
Sportive Oreades the bills descended, Mute, and not able to complaine
The Hamadryades.their liunting ended, His metamorphos'd mistresse' wrong;
And in the high woods left the long-liv'd harts Is all the subject of this song.
To feed in peace, free from their winged darts ;
Floods, mountains, sallies, woods, each vacantlyes The Muse's friend (gray-eyde Aurora) yet
Of nymphs that by them danc'd their baydigyes.
For all those powers were ready to embrace Held all the meadows in a cooling sweat,
The present meanes, to give our shepheards grace., The milk-white gossamores not upwards snow'd, And underneath this tree (till Thetis came) Nor was the sharp and usefull steering goad Many resorted; where a swaine, of name Laid on the strong-neckt oxe; no gentle bud Lesse, than of worth: (and we doe never The Sun had Jryde ; the cattle chew'd the cud Nor apprehend him best, that most is knowne.)
Fame is uncertaine, who to swiftly Ayes
Had so eirsgard eachi acceptable care, By th' unregarded shed where Vertue lyes, That bit a second, nought could bring them cleare She (ni inform'd of Vertue's worth) pursu'th Frou an affected snare; had Orpheus beene (In haste) opinion for the simple truth
Playingi şoinę distance from thein, he bad seene True Fame is ever likened to our shade,
Not one to stirre a foote for his rare straine, He soonest misseth her, that most hath made But left the Thracian for the English swaine. To over-take her; who su takes his wing,
Or bad suspicious Juno (when her Jote Regardlesse of her, she'll be following:
Into a cowe transform'd his fairest love') Her true proprietie she thus discovers, [lovers." Great Inachus' sweet stem in durance given “Loves her contemners, and contemnes her To this young lad; the messenger? of Heaven Th' applause of common people never yet
(Fair Maia's off-spring) with the depth of art Pursu'd this swaine, he knew't the counterfeit That ever Joye or Hermes might impart, Of settled praise, and therefore at his songs In fing'ring of a reede had never wonne Though all the shepheards and the graceful throngs Poor lo's freedome. And though Arctor's sonne Of semi-gods compar'd him with the best (Hundred-ey'd Argus) might be lull’d, by biu, That ever touch'd a reede, or was addrest and loose his pris’ner: yet in every lym In shepheard's coate, he never would approve That god of wit had felt this shepheard's skill. Their attributes, given in sincerest love ;
And by his charms brought from the Muse's hill Except he truly knew them, as his merit.
Inforc'd to sleepe; then, rob’d of pipe and rod, Fame gives a second life to such a spirit.
And vanquish'd so, turne swaine, this swaine a gol. This swaine, intreated by the mirthfull rout, Yet to this lad not wanted Envie's sting, That with intwined armes lay round about
(“He's not worth ought, that's not worth envying") The tree 'gainst which he leand. (So have I seene Since many at his praise were seene to groteh. Tom Piper stand upon our village greene,
For as a miller in his boulting hutch Backt with the May-pole, whilst a jocund crew. Drives out the pure meale neerly, (as he can) la gentle motion circularly threw
And in his sifter leaves the courser bran : The i selves about him.) To his fairest ring So doth the canker of a poet's name Thus 'gan in numbers well according sing: Let slip such lines as might inherit fame,
And from a volume culs soine small amisse, “ Venus by Adonis' side
To fire such dogged spleenes as mate with bis. Crying kist and kissing cryde,
Yet, as a man that (by his art) would bring Wruvg her hands and tore her bayre The ceaslesse current of a christall spring For Adonis dying there.
To over-looke the lowly flowing head,
Sinckes, hy degrees, bis soder'd pipes of lead "• Stay,' (quoth she)' stay and live!
Beneath the fount, whereby the water goes Nature surely doth not give
High, as well as on a mountaine flowes: To the earth her sweetest flowres
so when detraction and a Cynpic's tongue To be seene but some few houres.'
Have sunk desert unto the depth of wrong, “ On his face, still as he bled
By that, the eye of skill, true worth shall see For each drop a tear she shed,
To brave the starres, though low his passage be. Which she kist or ript away,
But, here I much digresse, yet pardon, swaines : Else had drown'd him where he lay.
For as a maideo gath'ring on the plaines
A sentfult nosegay (to set neere her pap, «« Fair Proserpina' (quoth she)
Or as a favour, for her shepheard's cap) • Shall not have thee yet from me ;
Is seene farre off to stray, if she have spide Nor thy soul to flye begin
A flower that might increase her posie's pride : While my lips can keepe it in.'
So if to wander I ain sometiine prest, “ Here she clos'd again. And some
"T'is for a straine that might adorne the rest. Say, Apollo would have come
Requests, that with deniall could not meet, To have curd his wounded lym,
Flew to our shephcard, and the voyces sweet But that she had smother'd him."
Of fairest nymphes intreating bim to say
What wight he lov'd; he thus began his lay: Looke as'a traveller in summer's day Nye-chookt with dust, and molt with Titan's ray,
“ Shall I tell you whom I love ? Longs for a spring to coole his inward heate,
Hearken then a while to me; And to that end, with vowes, doth Heaven intreat,
And if such a woman move When going further, finds an apple-tree
As I now shall versific; (Standing as did old Hospitalitie,
Be assur'd, 'tis she, or none With ready armes to succour any needes :)
That I love, and love alone. Hence pluckes an apple, tastes it, and it breedes “ Nature did her so much right, So great a liking in him for his thirst,
As she scornes the lielp of art. That up he climbes, and gathers to the first
In as many vertues dight A second, third ; nay, will not cease to pull
As e're yet imbrac'd a hart. Till he have got his cap and pockets full.
So much good so truely tride “ Things long desir'd so well esteemed are,
Some for lesse were dei fide.
* Mercury. See Nonnus, Dyonys. l. 3., Orkt. Than doth the traveller : tbis shepheard's song
Metam. l. 1.
" Wit she hath without desire
If (like a man for portraiture unable)
Or dare to draw his curtaine, with
a will Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
To show his true worth, when the artist's skill
Within that curtaine fully doth expresse,
His owne art’s-mastry my unablenesse.
He sweetly touched, what I barshly bit,
Yet thus I glory in what I have writ;
Sidney began (and if a wit so meane
May taste with him the dewes of Hippocrene)
I suwg the past'rall next; his Muse, my moverg Likelihood enough to prove
And on the plaines full many a pensive lover Onely worth could kindle love.
Shall sing us to their loves, and praising be, “ Such she is : and if you know
My humble lines, the more, for praising thee. Such a one as I have sung ;
Thus we shall live with them, by rockes, by springs,
As well as Homer by the death of kings.
Then in a straine beyond an oaten quill
The learned shepheard of faire Hitching hill
Sung the heroicke deeds of Greece and Troy,
ly lines so worthy life, that I imploy Eöus 'and his fellowes in the teame,
My reede in vaine to overtake his fame. (Who, since their wat'ring in the westerne streame, All praisefull tongues doe waite upon that name. Had run a furious journey to appease
Our second Ovid, the most pleasing Muse The night sicke eyes of our antipodes,)
That Heav'n did e're in mortal's braine infuse,
All-loved Draiton, in soule-raping straines,
A genuine noate, of all the nimphish traines
Began to tune ; on it all eares were hung
As sometimes Dido's on Æneas' tongue.
Johnson whose full of merit to rehearse
Too copious is to be confinde in verse;
Yet therein onely fittest to be knowne,
Could any write a line which he might owne.
One, so judicious ; so well knowing ; and
A man whose least worth is to understand ;
One so exact in all he doth preferre,
To able censure;. for the theater
Not Seneca transcends his worth of praise ;
Who writes him well sball well deserve the bayes.
Well-languag'd Danyel : Brooke', whose polisht Teaching their fins, to steere them, to the forme
Are fittest to accomplish high designes ;
Whose pen (it seemes) still young Apollo guides;.
Slreaines from thy braine, so faire, that time shall
Thee honour'd by thy verse, and it by thee,
And when thy temple's well deserving bayes,
Might impe a pride in thee to reach thy praise,
As in a christall glasse, fill'd to the ring
With the cleare water of as cleare a spring,
A steady hand may very safely drop
Some quantitie of gold, yet o're the top
Not force the liquor run ; although before
The glasse (of water) could containe no more:
Yet so all-worthy Brooke though all men sound Happy Arcadia ! while such lovely straines
With plummets of just praise thy skill profound, Song of thy vallyes, rivers, hills and plaines;
Tbou in thy verse those attributes caust take,
And not apparent ostentation make,
That any second can thy vertues raise,..
Striviag as much to hide as merit praise.
Davies !o and Wither, by whose Muse's power
A naturall day to me seemes but an houre,
And could I ever heare their learned,layes,
Ages would turne to artificiall dayes.
See b. 1. 5. 2.
* Mr. Chapman, who translated the works of
10 Not sir John, but John Davies, of Here • Sir Philip Sidney
These sweetly chanted to the queene of wares, Or what to call; poore lad, that canst not tell She prais'd, and what she prais’d, no tongue de Nor speake the name of her thou lov'st so well. praves.
Remond, by hap, neere to the arbour found, Then, base Contempt, (unworthy our report) Where late the hynd was slayne, the hurtlesse Fly from the Muses and their faire resort,
ground And exercise thy spleene on men like thee : Besmear'd with bloud; to Doridon he cride, Such are more fit to be contemn'd than we. And tearing then his hayre, “ O haplesse tide !" 'Tis not the rancour of a cank'red heart
(Quoth be) “ behold! some cursed hand hath tane That can debase the excellence of art,
From Fida this! O what infernall bane,
Or more than hellish fiend, inforced this!
And as the spotlesse lilly, was her soule !
'Turne in your sphears ! U could you see this Begin their immortalitie on Earth,
deed, When he that 'gainst a Muse with hate combines, And keepe your motion? If the eldest seed" May raise his toombe in vaine to reach our lynes. Of chained Saturne hath so often beene
Thus Thetis rides along the narrow seas, In hunters' and in shephearus' habit seene Encompast round with lovely Naides,
To trace our woods, and on our fertile plaines With gaudy rymphes, and many a skilfull swaine, Woo shepheards’daughters with melodious straines, Whose equals Earth cannot produce againe, Where was he now, or any other powre? But leave the times and men that shall succeede So many sev'rall lambs have I each howre, them,
[them. And crooked horned rams, brought to your shrines, Enough to praise that age which so did breed And with perfumes clouded the Sun that shines,
Two of the quaintest swaines that yet have beene Yet now forsaken! To an uncouth state Fail'd their attendance on the Ocean's queene, Must all things run, if such will be ingrate." Kemond and Doridon, whose haplesse fates
“ Cease, Remond," quoth the boy, " no more Late sever'd them from their more happy mates;
complaine, For (gentle 'swaines) if you remember well Thy fairest Fida lives; nor do thou staine When last I sung on brim of yonder dell,
With vilde' reproaches any power above, And, as I ghesse, it was that sunny morne, They all, as much as thee, bave beene in love: When in the grove thereby my sheepe were shorne, Saturne his Rhea ; Jupiter had store, I weene I told you, while the shepheards yong As lö, Leda, Europa, and more; Were at their past'rall, and their rurall song, Mars entred Vulcan's bed, pertooke his joy ; The shrikes of some poore maide, fallen in mnie Phæbus had Daphpe and the sweet-fac'd boy"?; chance,
Venus Adonis ; and the god of wit Invokt their aide, and drew them from their dance: In chastest bonds was to the Muses knit; Each ran a sev'rall way to belpe the maide; And yet remaines so, nor can any sever Some tow'rds the vally, some the green wood straid: His love, but brother-like affects them erer: Here one the thicket beates, and there a swaine Pale changefull Cinthia her Endimion bad, Enters the hidden caves, but all in vaine.
And oft on Latmus sported with that lad : Nor could they finde the wight, whose shrikes If these were subject (as all mortall men)
Unto the golden shafts, they could not then, Flew through the gentle ayre so heavily, But by their owne affections, rightly ghesse Nor see or man or beast, whose cruell teene Her death would draw on thine ; thy wretchednesse Would wrong a maiden or in grave or greene. - Charge them respectlesse ; since no swaine than Backe then return'd they all to end their sport, Hath off'red more unto euch deitie. (thee But Doridon and Remond; who resort
But feare not, Remond, for those sacred powres Backe to those places which they erst had sought, Tread on oblivion ; no desert of ours Nor could a thicket be by Nature wrought
Can be intoomb'd in their celestiall breasts; In such a webb, so intricate, and knit
They weigh our off'rings, and our solemne feasts, So strong with bryers, bnt they would enter it. And they forget thee not! Fida (thy deere) Remond his Fida eals; Fida, the woods
Treads on the earth ; the bloud that's sprinkled Resound againe, and Fida, speake the floods,
here As if the rivers and the hils did frame
Nere fill'd her veynes ; the hynd possest this gore : Themselves no small delight, to heure her name. See, where the coller lyes she whilome wore ! Yet she appears not. Doridon would now
Some dog hath slaine ber, or the griping carle Have call'd his love too, but he knew not how: That spoiles our plaines in digging them for marle.» Much like a man, who dreaming in his sleepe Looke, as two little brothers, who addrest That he is falling from some mountaine steepe To search the hedges for a thrushe's nest, lato a soundlesse lake, about whose brim
And have no sooner got the leavy spring, A thousand crocodiles doe waite for him, When, mad in lust with fearefull bellowing, And hangs but by one bough, and should that A strong neckt bull pursues throughout the field, breake,
One climbes a tree, and takes that for his shield, His life goes with it; yet to cry or speake, Whence looking from one pasture to another, Though faine he would, can move nor voyce nor What might betide to his much-lov'd brother, tongue :
Further than can his over-drowned eyes
Jupiter. 18 Hyacinthe
Tosse something on his hornes, he knowes not Whither the thriving bee came oft to sucke them, what;
And fairest nymphes to decke their haire did placke But one thing feares, and therefore thinkes it that: them. When, comming nigher, he doth well discerne Where oft the goddesses did run at base, It of the wondrous-one-night-seeding ferne And on white hearts begun the wilde-goose-chase : Some bundle was: yet thence he home-ward goes, Here various Nature seeni'd adorning this, Pensive and sad, nor can abridge the throes In imitation of the fields of blisse; His feare began, but still his minde doth move as she would intice the soules of men Unto the worst : “ Mistrust goes still with love." To leave Elizium, and live here agen.' So far'd it with our shepheard, though he saw Not Hybla mountaine, in the jocund prime, Not aught of Fida's rayment, which might draw Upon her many bushes of sweet thyme, A more suspition; though the coller lay
Showes greater number of industrious bees, There on the grasse, yet goes he thence away Ihan vere the birds that sung there on the trees. Full of mistrust, and vowes to leave that plaine Like the trim windings of a wanton lake, Till he embrace his chastest love againe.
That doth his passage through a meadow make, Love-wounded Doridon entreats him then
Ran the delightfull vally 'tween two hils, That be might be his partner, since no men From whose rare trees the precious balme distils : Had cases liker; he with him would goe,
And hence Apollo had his simples good, Weepe when he wept, and sigh when he did so: That eur'd the gods, hurt by the Earth's ill brood. “1," quoth the boy, “ will sing thee songs of A christall river on her bosome slid, love,
And (passing) seem'd in sullen mutt'rings chid And as we sit in some all-shady grove,
The artlesse songsters, that their musicke still Where Philomela, and such sweet'ned throates, Should charme the sweet dale, and the wistfull hill, Are for the mastry tuning various noates,
Not suffering her shrill waters, as they run, l'le strive with them, and tune so sad a verse, Tun'd with a whistling gale in unison, That, whilst to thee my fortunes I reherse, To tell as high they priz'd the bord'red vale, No bird but shall be mute, her noate decline, As the quick lennet or sweet nightingale. And cease her woe, to lend an eare to mine; Downe from a steepe ročke came the water first, I'le tell thee tales of love, and show thee how
(Where lusty satyres often quench'd their thirst) The gods have wand'red as we shepheards now. And with no little speed seem'd all in haste, And when thou plain'st thy Fida's lost, will I Till it the lovely bottome hal imbrac'd : Eccho the same, and with mine owne supply. Then, as intranc'd to heare the sweet birds sing, Know, Remond, I do love, but, well-a-day ! In curled whirlpools she her course doth bring, I know not whom; but as the gladsome May As loáth to leave the songs that lollid the dale, She's faire and lovely: as a goddesse she
Or waiting time when she and some soft gale (If such as her's a goddesse beauty be)
Should speake what true delight they did possesse First stood before me, and inquiring was
Among the rare flowres which the vally dresse. How to the marish she might soonest passé, But since those quaint musitians would not stay, When rosht a villaine in, Hell be his lot!
Nor suffer any to be heard but they :
That is not heard; the others' fingering
Drowning his art; the boy would gladly get That he reblest may be with her faire sight,
Applause with others that are of his set, Though thence his eyes possesse eternall night.” And therefore strikes a stroke loud as the best,
Remond agreed : and many weary dayes And often descants when his fellowes rest; They now had spent in unfrequented wayes: That, to be heard, (as usual singers do) About the rivers, vallies, holts, and crags,
Spoiles his owne musicke and his partners' too : Among the ozyers and the waving flags,
So at the further end the waters fell They neerely pry, if any dens there be,
From off an high bancke downe a lowly dell, Where from the Sun might harbour crueltie : As they had vow'd ere passing from that ground, Or if they could the bones of any spy,
The birds should be inforc'd to heare their sound. Or torne by beasts, or humane tyranny.
No small delight the shepheards tooke to see They close inquirie make in caverns blinde,
A coombe's so dight in Flora's livery; Yet what they looke for would be death to finde, Where faire Feronia i honour'd in the woods, Right as a curious man that would discrie
And all the deities that haunt the floods, (Lead by the trembling hand of Jealousie) With powerfull Nature strove to frame a plot, if his faire wife have wrong'd his bed or no, Whose like the sweet Arcadia 'yeelded bot. Meeteth bis torment if he finde her so.
Downe through the arched wood the shepheards One ev'n e're Phæbus (neere the golden shore
wend, Of Tagus' streame) his journey gan give o're, And seeke all places that might helpe their end, They had ascended up a woody hill,
When comming neere the bottome of the hill, (Where oft the Pauni with their bugles shrill Wakened the Eceho, and with many a shout
A deepe fetch'd sigh, which seem'd of power to kill Follow'd the fearefull deere the woods about, Or thro' the breakes that hide the craggy rockes, Dig'd to the hole where lyes the wily foxe.)
14. According to that of Silius, lib. Xiur. Punicor: Thence they beheld an underlying vale
-Itur in agros Divës ubi" ante omnes colitur Where Flora set her rarest lowres at sale,