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The hare-belle for her stainlesse azar'd hue, They thought that Heaven to him no-life did give,
O happy men ! you ever did possesse
No wisedome, but was mixt with simplenesse; The oriage-tawny marigold, the night
So, wanting malice : and from folly free, Hides not her colour from a searching sight. Since reason went with your simplicitie. To thee then dearest friend (my song's chief mate) You search'd yourselves if all within were faire, This colour chiefely I appropriate,
And did not learne of others what you were. That, 'spite of all the mists oblivion can
Your lives the patterns of those vertues gave Or envious frettings of a guilty man,
Which adulation tels men now they have. Retain'st thy worth ; nay, mak'st it more in prise, With povertie, in love we onely close, Like tennis-bals throwne downe hard, highest rise. Because our lovers it most truely showes: The columbine in tawny often taken,
When they who in that blessed age did more, Is then ascribd to such as are forsaken ;
Knew neyther poverty nor want of love. Flora's choice buttons of a russet dye
The hatred which they bare was onely this, Is hope even in the depth of misery.
That every one did hate to doe amisse. The pansie, thistle, all with prickles set,
Their fortune still was subject to their will: The cowslip; honeysuckle, violet,
Their want (o happy !) was the want of ill.. And many hundreds more that grac'd the meades, Ye truest, fairest, lovelyest nymphs that can Gardens and groves (where beauteous Flora treads) | Out of your eyes lend fire Promethian. Were by the shepheards' daughters (as yet are All-beauteous ladies, love-alluring dames, Us’d in our cotes) brought home with speciall care: That on the banks of Isca, Humber, Thames, For bruising them they not alone would quell By your incouragement can make a swaine But rot the rest, and spoile their pleasing smell. Climbe by his song where none but soules attaine: Much like a lad, who in his tender prime And by the gracefull reading of our lines Sent from his friends to learn the use of time, Renew our heate to further brave designes: As are bis mates, or good or bad, so he
(You, by whose meanes my Muse thus boldly sayes: Thrives to the world, and such his actions be. Though she doe sing of shepheards' loves and layes,
As in the rainbowe's many coloured hewe And flagging weakly lowe gets not on wing:
Nor bath the love nor beauty of a queene
Yet not to doe their age nor ours a wrong, (song) And eods still with ţhe colour which begun, Though queenes, nay goddesses, fam'd Homer's Draving the deeper to a lighter staine,
Mine hath been tun'd and heard by beavties more Bringing the lightest to the deep'st againe, Than all the poets that have liv'd before. With sach rare art each mingleth with his fellow, Not 'cause it is more worth: but it doth fall The blew with watchet, greene and red with yea- That Nature now is turn'd a prodigall, Like to the changes wbich we daily see [low ; And on this age so much perfection spends, Aboat the dove's necke with varietie,
That to her last of treasure it extends ; Where none can say (though he it strict attends) For all the ages that are slid away Here one begins; and there the other ends : Had not so many beauties as this day. So did the maidens with their various dowres O what a rapture have I gotten now ! Decke up their windowes, and make neat their That age of gold, this of the lovely browe Using such cunning as they did dispose [bowres: Have drawne me from my song! I onward run The ruddy piny with the lighter rose,
Chane froin the end to which I first begun.
Then with those flowres they most of all did prise If you yourselves should come to add one grace
The walkes there mounting up by small degrees,
It, with the rest, drawes on your lingring eye: Nor will the needle nor the loome e're be
Here the sweet smels that doe perfume the ayre, So perfect ia their best embroderie;
Arising from the infinite repayre
The word of mine did no man then bewitch, So please the smelling sence, that you are faine. They thought none could be fortunate if rich.'>; Where last you walk'd to turnè and walke againe. And to the covetous did wish 'no wrong
There the small birds with their barmonious noter But what himself desir'd: to live here long. Sing to a spring that smileth as she floates :
As of their songs so of their lives they deem'd, For in her face a many dimples show, Not of the longist, but best perform'd, esteem'd. And often skips as it did dancing goe :
Here further downe an over-arched alley Following a well-fed lambe: with many á shout That from a bill goes winding in a valley,
They then pursu'd him all the plaine about You spy at end thereof a standing lake
And eyther with fore-laying of his way, Where some ingenious artist strives to make OT be full gorg'd ran not so swift as they, The water (brought in turning pipes of lead Before he could recover downe the strand Through birds of earth most lively fashioned) No swaine but on him had a fast'ned hand. To counterfeit and mocke the Silvans all
R.-joicing then the worst wolfe to their focke In singing well their owne set madrigall.
Lay in their powres) they bound him to a rocke, This with no small delight retaynes your eare, With chaines tane from the plow, and learing And makes you think none blest but who live there.
him Then in another place the fruits that be
Return'd back to their feast. His eyes late din In gallant clusters decking each good tree
Now sparkle forth in flames, he grindes his teeth, Invite your hand to crop them from the stem, And strives to catch at every thing he seeth: And liking one, taste every sort of them :
But to no purpose : all the hope of food Then to the arbours walk, then to the bowres, Was tane away ; his little flesh, lesse bloud, Thence to the walkes againe, thence to the flowres, He suck'd and tore at Isst, and that denyde, Then to the birds, and to the cleare spring thence, With fearefull shriekes most miserably dyde. Now pleasing one, and then another sence :
Unfortunate Marina thou art free Here one walkes oft, and yet anew begin'th, From his jawes now, though not from misery. As if it were some bidden laborinth;
Within the cave thou likely art to pine, So loath to part, and so content to stay,
(O may never) faile a helpe divine, That when the gardner kpoekes for you away, And though such ayd thy wants doe still supply, It grieves you so to leave the pleasures in it, Yet in a prison thoa must ever lye: That you could wish that you had never seene it: But Heav'n, that fed thee, will not long defer Blame me not then, if while to you I told "To send thee thither some deliverer: The happiness our fathers clipt of old,
Por, tben to spend thy sighes there to the maine The mere imagination of their blisse
Thou fitter wert to honour Thetis' trayne. So rapt my thoughts, and made me sing amisse. Who so far now with her harmonious crew And still the more they ran on those dayes' worth, Scour'd through the seas (O who yet ever knew The more unwilling was I to come forth.
So rare a consort ?) she had left behinde O! if the apprehension joy us so,
The Kentish, Sussex shores, the isle assignde What would the action in a humane show! To brave Vespasian's conquest, and was come Such were the shepheards (to all goodness bent) Where the shrill trumpet and the ratling drum About whose thorps' that night curs’d Limos went. Made the waves tremble (ere befell this chance) Where he had learn'd, that next day all the swaines And to no softer musicke us'd to dance. That any sheepe fed on the fertill plaines,
Hail thou my native soil ! thou blessed plot The feast of Pales, goddesse of their grounds Whose equall all the world affordeth nut! Did meane to celebrate. Fitly this sounds Shew me who can? so many christall rils, He thought, to what he formerly intended, · Such sweet-cloath'd vallies, or aspiring hils, His stealth should by their absence be befriended : Such wood-ground, pastures, quarries, wealthy For whilst they in their off'rings busied were,
mynes, He 'mongst the flockes might range with lesser Such rockes in whom the diamond fairely shines : feare.
And if the earth can show the like agen; How to contrive his stealth he spent the night. Yet will she faile in her sea-ruling men.
The morning now in colours richly dight Time never can produce men to ore-take Stept o’re the easterne thresholds, and no lad The fames of Greenvil, Davies, Gilbert, Drake, That joy'd to see his pastures freshly clad, Or worthy Hawkins or of thousands more But for the holy rites himselfe addrest
That by their powre made the Devonian shore With necessaries proper to that feast.
Mocke the proud Tagus ; for whose richest spoyle The altars every where now smoaking be The boasting Spaniard left the India sople With beane-stalkes, savine, laurell, rosemary, Banckrupt of store, knowing it would quit cost Their cakes of grummell-seed they did preferre, By winning this though all the rest were lost. And pailes of milke in sacrifice to her.
As oft the sea-nimphes on her strand have set, Then hymne of praise they all devoutly sung Learning of fishermen to knit a net, In those Palilia for increase of young.
Wherein to wind up their disheveld hayres, But ere the ceremonies were half past
They have beheld the frolicke marriners One of their boyes came down the bill in haste, For exercise (got early from their beds) And told them Limos was among their sheepe; Pitch bars of silver, and cast goldeu slerts. That he, his fellowes, nor their dogs could keepe At Ex, a lovely nymph with Thetis-met, The rav'ner from their flockes; great store were She singing came, and was all round beset kild,
[Gild. With other watry powres, which by her song Whose blood he suck'd, and yet his paunch not She had allurid to flowe with her along. O hasten then away! for in an houre
The lay she chanted she had learn'd of yore, He will the chiefest of vonr fold devour.
Taught by a skilfull swaine", who on her shore With this most ran (leaving behind some few To finish what was to fair Pales due)
* Vecta quam Vespasianus a Claudio missos And as they had ascended up the hill
subjugavit. Vide Bed. in Hist. Ecc. lib. 1. cap. 3. Limos they met, with no meane pace and skill, 9 Joseph of Exeter writ a poem of the Trojan
warre according to Dares the Phrigian's story, but ? Villages.
falsly attributed to Cornelius Nepos, as it is
fed his faire flocke: a worke renown'd as farre Hence-forward silent be; and ye my cares As his brave subject of the Trojan warre.
Be knowne but to myselfe ; or who despayres. When she had dubie, a prittie shepheard's boy Since pittie now lies turned to a stone; That from the neare downes carne (though he Sing mirthfull swaines; but let me sigh alone.”
small joy Tooke in bis tunefull reede, since dire neglect
The fitting accent of his mournefull lay Crept to the brest of her he did affect,
So pleas'd the powrefull lady of the sea And that an ever-busie watchfull eye
That she intreated him to sing againe; Stood as a barre to his felicitie)
And he obeying tun'd his second straine : Being with great intreaties of the swaines
“ BORNĚ to no other comfort than my teares, Apd by the faire queene of the liquid plaines Yet rol'd of them by griefes too inly deepe, Woo'd to his pipe, and bad to lay aside
I cannot rightly wayle my baplesse yeares, All troubled thoughts, as others at that tyde; Nor move a passion that for me might weepe. And that he now some merry note should raise,
Nature alas too short hath knit To equall others which had sung their layes :
My tongue to reach my woe: He shooke his head, and knowing that his tongue Nor bave I skill sad notes to fit Could not belye his hart, thus sadly sung:
That might my sorrow show.
And to increase my torment's ceaselesse sting “ As new-borne babes salate their age's morne With cryes unto their wofüll mother hurld :
There's no way left to show my paines My infant Muse that was but lately borne
· But by my pen ini mournfull straines,
Which others may perhaps take joy to sing.” Began with watry eges to woo the world. She knowes not how to speake, and therefore
As (woo'd by Maye's delights) I have been borne weepes
To take the kind ayre of a wistfull morne
Neere Tavie's voycefull streame (to whom I owe And strives to move the heart that senslesse
More straines than from my pipe can ever fowe) sleepes,
Here have l heard a sweet bird never lin
To chide the river for bis clam'rous din;
There seem'd another in his song to tell,
That what the fayre streame did he liked well;. Dišdaine hath wrapt her in the shrowds
And going farther heard another too
All varying still in what the others doe;
In the sweet groves of the too carelesse spring, “ It is enough that I in silence sit,
That I no sooner could the hearing lose
Whilst in a bush two nightingales together
Show'd the best skill they had to draw me thither :
This shepheard's lay pursu'd the other's song, I have not knowne so many yeares
And scarce one ended had his skilfull stripe, As chances wrong,
But streight another took him to his pipe. Nor have they knowne more foods of teares By that tlie younger swaine had fully done, From Ore so yong.
Thetis with her brave company had wonne Pain would I tune to please as others doe, The mouth of Dert, and wbilst the 'Tritons charme Wert not for faining song and numbers 100. The dancing waves, passing the christall Arme, Then (since not fitting now are songs of mone)
Sweet Yalme and Plin, arriv'd where Thamar Sing mirthfuli swaines but let me sigh alone. Her daily tribute to the westerne seas. [payes is The nymphs that fcate upon these watry
Here sent she up her dolphins, and they plyde
So busily their fares on every side, plaines Hare oft been drawne to listen to my song,
They made a quitke returne and brought her downs And sirens left to tune djssembling straines
A many homagers to Thámar's crowne,
Who in themselves were of as great command În true bewayling of my sorrowes long.
As any meaner rivers of the land.
With every nymph the swalne of most account
That fed his wbite sheepe by her clearer fount: And thrilled with my woes forthwith began
And every one to Thetis sweetly sung.
Among the rest a shepheard (though but young, Yet where they should they cannot move.
Yet hartned to his pipe) with all the skill
His few yeeres could, began to fit his quill.
By Tavie's speedy streame be fed his flocke, Art for & herse.
Where when he sate to sport him on a rocke, printed. He lived in the time of Hen. IJ. and The water-nymphs would often come unto him, Rich. I. See the illustrations of my most worthy And for a dance with many gay gifts # 00 him. friend Mr. Selden upon Mr. Drayton's Poly-Olbion, Now posies of this flowre, and then of that; p. 58. (or Vol. iv. p. 219. of the present collection.) | Now with fine shels, then with a rusby hat, VOL. VI.
With corrall or red stones brdught from the deepe Which white bencath the red did seeme to sliroud,
So on the greene inarge of a christall brooke
And such the beames are of the glorious Sun,
That through a tuft of grasse diepersed run. “ Faire was the day, but fayrer was the maide Upon her legs a payre of buskips white, Who that day's morne into the green-woods straid. Studded with oryent prarle and chrysolite, Sweet was the ayre, but sweeter was her breath.
And like her mantle stitcht with gold and greene, ing,
(Fairer yet never wore the forrest's qncene) Such rare perfumes the roses are bequeathing.
Knit close with ribands of a party bue,
Nor could there be a mixture with more grace,
A silver quiver at her back she wore, Sweet Flora as if ravish'd with her sight
With darts and arrowes for the stag and boare, In emalation made all lillies white :
But in her eyes slie had such darts agen, For as I oft bave heard the wood-nimphs say, Could conquer gods, and wound the hearts of men, The dancing fairies when they left to play Her left hand held a knotty Brasil bow, [know. Then backe did pull them, and in holes of trees Whose strength, with tearts, she made the red deer Stole the sweet honey from the painfull bees, So clad, so arm'd, so drest to win her will Which in the flowre to put they oft were seene
Diana never trole on Latmus hill. And for a banquet brought it to their queene. Walla, the fairest nimph that haunts the woods, But she that is the goddesse of the flowres Walla, belov'd of shepheards, faunes, and floods, (Invited to their groves and shady bowres)
Walla, for whom the frolike satyres pyne, Mislik'd their choice. They said that all the field Walla, with whose fine foot the flowrets twine, No other flowre did for that purpose yeeld ;
Walla, of whom sweet birds their ditties move, But quoth a nimble fay that by did stand: Walla, the Earth's delight, and Tavy's love. If you could give't the colour of yond hand; “ This fayrest nimph, when Tavy first prevailid (Walla by chance was in a meadow by
And won affection where the Silvans fail'd, Learning to sample earth's embrodery)
Had promis'd (as a favour to his streame) It were a gift would Flora well befit,
Each wecke to crowne it with au anadem : And our great queen the more would honour it. And now llyperion from his glittring tlirone She gave consent; and by some other powre Se: v'n times his quickning rays had bravely showne Made Venus' dores be equall'd by the flowre,
Unto the other world, since Walla last, But not her hand; for Nature this preferres, Had on her Tavy's head the garland plac'd; All other whites but shadowings to hers.
And this day (as of right) she wends abroad Her hair was roll'd in many a curious fret, To case the meadowes of their willing loade. Much like a rich and artfull coronet,
Flora, as if to welcome her those houres Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay
Had been most lavish of her choisest flowres, And were or tyde, or loath to flye away.
Spreading more beauties to intice that morne Upon her bright eyes Phæbus his inclinde, Than she had done in many dayes before. And by their radiance was the god stroke blinde, “ Looke as a maiden sitting in the shade That cleane awry th' eccliptic then be stript, Of some close arbour by the wood-bynde made, And from the milky way his horses whipt;
With drau ne alone where undiscride she may So that the eastern world to feare begin
By her most curious needle give' assay Some stranger drove the chariot of the Sun Unto some pur:e (if so her fancy move) And never but that once did Heaven's bright eye
Or other token for her truest love, Bestow one looke on the Cymmerij.
Variety of silke about her pap, A greene silke frock her comely sboulders clad, Or in a box she takes upon her lap, Add tooke delight that such a seate it bad, Whose pleasing colours wooing her quick eye, Which at her middle gath’red up in pleats, Now this she thinkes the ground would beautifie, A love-knot girdle willing bondage threats.
And that, to nourish with, she deemeth best : Nor Venus' ceston held a braver peece,
When spying others, she is straight possest Nor that which girt the fayrest Howre of Greece. Those fittest are; yet from that choice doth fall, Down to her waste, her mantle loose did fall, And she resolves at last to use them all : Which Zephyre (as afraid) still plaid withall, So Walla, which to gather long time stood, . And then tuck'd up somewhat below the knee
Whether those of the field, or of the wood; Shew'd searching eyes where Capid's columns be. Or those that 'mong the springs and marish lay; The inside lynde with rich carnation silke,
But then the blossomes which iurich'd each And in the midst of both, lawne white as milke.
Allurid her looke ; wbose many coloured graces 10 Pelops was feigned by the poets to have a Did in her garland challenge no meane places: shoulder of ivory. Ovid Metain. lib. vi. Pindar. And therefore she (not to be poore in plepty) Od. 1. Olymp. Tibullus, lib. i. Eleg. 4., Virg. Proin meadowes, springs, woods, sprays, culs some Georg. III.
Which in a scarfe she put, and onwards set Gaze on mine eyes, whose life-infusing beames To find a place to dress her coronet.
Have power to melt the icy northern streamcs, “A little grove is seated on the marge
And so infiame the gods of those boun! seas Of Tavy's streaine, not over thicke mor large, They would necoaine their virgin pasiges, Where every moró a quire of Silvans sung, And i ach our mariners from day to day, And leaves to chatt'ring windes serv'd as a tongue, To bring us jeweis by a nearer way. By whom the water runs in many a ring,
Twine thy loug fingers in my shining haire, As if it fajo would stay to heare them sing, And thinke it no disgrace to lile then there; And on the top a thousand young birds flye,
For I cuuid teil idee how the Paphian queenc To be instructed in their harmony.
Met me one day po yond pleasant greeue, Neere to the end of this all-joysbie grove
Aud did intreat a slip (touch I was coy) A dainty circled plot seem'd as it strove
Wherewith to fetter ber lascivious buy. To keepe all bryers and bushes from invading Play with my teates that siveil to have impression; Her pleasing compasse by their needlesse shading, And if thou please tiom thence to make cigresSince it was not so large but that the store
sion, Of trees around could shade her brest and more. Passe thou that milky way where creat Apollo, In midst thereof a little swelling hill,
And higher powers than he would giadiy foliuw. Gently disburd'ned of a christall rill
When to the full of these thou shalt attaine, Which from the greenside of the flowry bancke It were some mastry for thee to refraine ; Eat downe a channell; here the wood-nymphs But since thou know'st not what such pleasures be, dranke,
The world will not commend but laugh at thee. And great Diana, having slaine the deere, But thou wilt say, thy Walla yeelds such store Did often use to come and bathe her here.
Of joyes, that no one love can raise thee more; Here talk'd they of their chase, and where next day Admit it so, as who but thinks it strange? They meant to hunt: here did the shephearus play, Yet shalt thou find a pleasure more in change. And many a gaudy nymph was often seene If that thon lik’st not, gentle food, but heare, Imbracing shepheard's boyes upon this greene. To prove that state the best I never feare. From hence the spring hasts downe to Tavy's brim, Tell me wherein the state and glory is And pays a tribute of his drops to him.
Of thee, of Avon, or brave Thamesis? "Here Walla rests the rising mount upon, In your own springs ? or by the flowing head That seem'd to swell more since she sate thereon, Of some such river onely seconded ? And from her scarfe upon the grasse shooke downe Or is it through the multitude that doe The smelling flowres that should her river crowne. Send downe their waters to attend on you ? The scarfe (in shaking it) she brushed oft, Your mixture with lesse brookes adds to your Whereon were fowres so fresh and lively wrought,
fames, That her own cuvning was her own deceit,
So long as they in you doe loose their names; Thinking those true which were but counterfeite. And coming to the ocean, thou dost see, “ Under an alder on his sandy marge,
It takes in other foods as well as thee; Was Tavy set to view his nimble charge,
It were no sport to us that hunting love, And there his love he long time had expected : If we were still confinde to one large grove. While many a ruse-cheekt nymph no wyle The water which in one poole hath abiding neglected
Is not so sweet as rillets ever gliding. To woo bim to imbraces; which he scorn'd, Nor would the brackish waves in whom you meet As valluing more the beauties which adorn'd Containe that state it dolh, but be lesse sweet, His fairest Walla, than all Nature's pride And with contagious steames all mortals smoother, Spent on the cheekes of all her sexe beside.
But that it moves from this shore to the other. Now would they tempt bim with their open brests, There's no one season sach delight can bring, And swear their lips were love's assured tests: As summer, autumine, winter, and the spring. That Walla sure would give him the denial! Nor the best flowre that doth on earth appeare Till she had knowne him true by such a tryall. Could by itselfe content us all the yeare. Then comes another and her hand bereaves The salmons, and some more as well as they, The soone-slipt alder of two clammy leaves, Now love the freshet, and then love the sea. And clapping them together, bids him see The flitting fowles not in one coast doe tarry, And learne of love the hidden mistery, [pence, But with the yeare their habitation vary. • Brave food' (quoth she) that hold'st us in sus What music is there is a shepheard's quill And show'st a god-like powre in abstinence, (Plaid on by him that hath the greatest skill) At this thy coldnesse we do nothing wonder, If but a s.op or two thereon we spy? These leaves did so, when once they grew asunder; Musicke is best in her varietie. But since the one did taste the other's blisse, So is discourse, so joyes; and why not then And felt biş partner's kinde partake with bis, As well the lives and loves of gods as men?' Bebold how close they join ; and had they power “More she had spoke, but that the gallant food To speake their pow content, as we can our, Replyde: , 'Ye wanton rangers of the wood They would on Nature lay a haynous crime Leave your allurements; hye ye to your chase ; For keeping close such sweets untill this time. See where Diana with a nimble pace Is there to such men aught of merit due,
Followes a strucke deere! if you longer stay That doe abstaine from what they never knew.? Her frowne will bend to me another day. [call No: then aswell we may account him wise Harke how she wynds her horne; she come doth For speaking nought, who wants those faculties. Perhaps for you, to make in to the fall.' Taste thququr sweets'; come here and freely sip “With this they left him. Now he wonders much Dividest nectar froin my melting lip;
Why at this time his Walla's stay was such,