Beneath the fount, whereby the water goes
High as a well that on a mountain flows:
So when detraction and a Cynic's tongue
Have funk defert unto the depth of wrong,
By that, the eye of fkill, true worth fhall fee
To brave the ftars, though low his paffage be.
But here I much digrefs, yet pardon, swains:
For as a maiden gath'ring on the plains
Afcentful nofegay (to fet near her pap,
Or as a favour, for her fhepherd's cap)
Is feen far off to ftray, if the have spy'd

A flower that might increafe her pofie's pride:
So if to wander I am fometime preft,
'Tis for a strain that might adorn the rest.
Requests, that with denial could not meet,
Flew to our fhepherd, and the voices sweet
Of fairest nymphs entreating him to fay
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 fuch a woman move
As I now fhall versify;
Be affor'd, 'tis fhe, or none
That I love, and love alone.

Nature did her so much right,

As the fcorns the help of art. In as many virtue's dight

As e'er yet embrace'd a heart. So much good fo truly try'd Some for lefs were deify'd.

Wit fhe bath without defire

To make known how much he hath; And her anger flames no higher

Than may fitly fweeten wrath.

Full of pity as may be,
Though perhaps not so to me.

Reafon mafters every fenfe,

And her virtues grace her birth: Lovely as all excellence,

Modeft in her most of mirth: Likelihood enough to prove Only worth could kindle love.

Such fhe is and if you know
Such a one as I have fung;
Be the brown, or fair, or fo,

That the be but fomewhile young;

Be affur'd, 'tis fhe or none

That I love, and love alone.

Ebus and his fellows in the team,

As I have feen when on the breaft of Thames A heavenly beavy of fweet English dames, In fi me calm ev'ning of delightful May, With mufic give a farewell to the day, Or as they would (with an admired tone) Greet night's afcenfion to her ebon throne, Rapt with their melody, a thousand more Run to be wafted from the bounding fhore: So ran the fhepherds and with hafty feet Strove which hould firft increase that happy fleet.

The true prefagers of a coming ftorm Teaching their fins, to fteer them, to the form Of Thetis' will; like boats at anchor flood, As ready to convey the mufe's brood Into the brackish lake, that feem'd to fwell, As proud fo rich a burden on it fell .

Ere their arrival § Aftrophelad done
His fhepherd's lay, yet equalis'd of none.
Th' admired mirror, glory of our ifle,
Thou far, far more than mortal man, whofe
ftyle,

Struck more men dumb to hearken to thy fong
Than Orpheus' harp, or Tully's golden tongue.
To him (as right) for wit's deep quinteffence,
For honour, value, virtue, excellence,
Be all the garlands, crown his tomb with bay,
Who spake as much as e'er our tongue can say.

Happy Arcadia while fuch lovely strains
Sung of thy vallies, rivers, hills, and plains;
Yet most unhappy other joys among,

That never heard' his mufic nor his fong.
Deaf men are happy fo, whofe virtues praise
(Unheard of them) are fung in tuneful lays.
And pardon me, ye fifters of the mountain
Who wail his lofs from the Pegasian fountain,
If like a man for portraiture unable)
I fet my pencil to Apelles' table;
Or dare to draw his curtain, with a will
To thew his true worth, when the artifl's skill
Within that curtain fully doth exprefs,
His own art's maft'ry my unableness,

He fweetly touch'd, what I harshly hit,
Yet thus I glory in what I have writ;
Sidney began (and if a wit fo mean
May tafte with him the dews of Hippocrene)
I fung the past'ral next; his mufe, my mover:
And on the plains full many a penfive lover
Shall fing us to their loves, and praifing be,
My humble lines, the more for praising thee.
Thus we fhall live with them, by rocks, by fprings,
As well as Homer by the death of kings.

Then in a firain beyond an oaten quill The learned fhepherd of fair Hitching Hill Sung the heroic deeds of Greece and Troy, In lines, fo worthy life, that I employ

Had run a furious journey to appease
The night-fick eyes of our antipodes.)
Now (fweating) were in our horizon feen

To drink the cold dew from each flow'ry green :
When Triton's trumpet (with a fhrill cominand)
Told, filver-footed Thetis was at hand.

• Föus Pyracis, Æthon, and Phlegon, were feigned to be the barfes of the fun.

All-loved Drayton, in foul-raping frains,
A genuine note, of all the nymphifh trains,
Began to tune; on it all ears were hung
As fometime Dido's on Æneas' tongue.
Johnfon, whofe full of merit to rehearse
Too copious is to be confin'd in verse;
Yet therein only fittelt to be known,
Could any write a line which he might own.
One, fo judicious; fo well knowing; and
A man whofe leat worth is to understand;
One fo exact in all he doth prefer,
To able cenfure; for the theatre

No: Seneca tranfcends his worth of praise;
Who writes him well fhall well deferve the bays.
Well-languag'd Daniel; Brooke, whofe po-
lith'd lines

Are fitteft to accomplish high defigns;
Whole pen (it feems) ftill young Apollo guides;
Worthy the forked hill forever glides
Streams from thy brain, fo fair, that time shall see
Thee honour'd by thy verfe, and it by thee.
And when thy temple's well-deferving bays,
Might imp a pride in thee to reach thy praise,
As in a crystal glaf-, fill'd to the ring
With the clear water of as clear a spring,
A fteady hand may very fafely drop
Some quantity of gold, yet o'er the top
Not force the liquor run; although before
The glafs (of water) could contain no more:
Yet fo all-worthy Brooke, though all men found
With plummets of juft praife thy fkill profound,
Thou in thy verfe thofe attributes canft take
And not apparent oflentation make,
That any fecond can thy virtues raise,
Striving as much to hide as merit praife.

+ Davies and Wither, by whofe mufe's power
A natural day to nie leems but an hour,
And could I ever hear their learned lays,
Ages would turn to artificial days.

Thefe fweetly chaunted to the queen of waves,
She prais'd, and what the prais'd no tongue de-

praves.

Then base contempt (unworthy our report)
Fly from the mufes and their fair refort,
And exercife thy fpleen on men like thee:
Such are more fit to be contemn'd than we.
'Tis not the rancour of a cank'red heart
That can debafe the excellence of art,
Nor great in titles makes our worth obey,
Since we have lines far more efteem'd than they.
For there is hidden in a poet's name

A spell that can command the wings of Fame,
And maugre all oblivion's hated birth
Begin their immortality on earth,

When he that 'gainst a mufe with hate combines
May raise his tomb in vain to reach our lines.

Thus Thetis rides along the narrow feas Encompass'd round with lovely Naiades, With gaudy nymphs, and many a skilful swain Whofe equals, earth cannot produce again, [them But leave the times and men that fhall fucceed Enough to praife that age which fo did breed them.

Chriftopher Brocke.

↑ Joon Davies of Hereford.

Two of the quainteft fwains that yet have been
Fail'd their attendance on the ocean's queen,
Remond and Doridon, whofe hapless fates
Late fever'd them from their more happy mates;
For (gentle fwains) if you remember well
When laft I fung on brim of yonder dell,
And as I guess it was that funny morn,
When in the grove thereby my sheep were fhorn,
I ween I told you, while the fhepherd's young
Were at their past'ral, and their rural fong,
The fhrieks of fome poor maid fallen in mif-
chance,

Invok'd their aid, and drew them from their dance:
Each ran a sev`ral way to help the maid;
Some tow'rds the valley, fome the green wood

ftray'd:

Here one the thicket beats, and there a swain
Enters the hidden caves, but all in vain.
Nor could they find the wight whofe fhrieks
and cry

Flew through the gentle air fo heavily,
Nor fee or man or beaft, whofe cruel teen
Would wrong a maiden or in grave or green.
Back then return'd they all to end their sport
But Doridon and Remond; who refort
Back to thofe places which they erft had fought,
Nor could a thicket be by nature wrought
In fuch a web, fo intricate, and knit

So ftrong with briars, but they would enter it.
Remond, his Fida calls; Fida the woods
Refound again, and Fida speak the floods,
As if the rivers and the hills did frame
Themselves no fmall delight, to hear her name.
Yet the appears not. Doridon would now
Have call'd his love too, but he knew not how :
Much like a man who dreaming in his fleep
That he is falling from fome mountain fteep
Into a foundlefs iake, about whofe brim
A thousand crocodiles do wait for him,
And hangs but by one bough and should that
break

His life goes with it; yet to cry or speak,
Though fain he would, can nove nor voice nor

tongue :

So when he Remond heard the woods among
Call for his Fida, he would gladly too
Have call'd his faireft love, but knew not who,
Or what to call; poor lad. that canst not tell
Nor fpeak the name of her thou lov'ft fo well.

Remond by hap near to the arbour found
Where late the hind was flain, the hurtlefs ground
Befinear'd with blood; to Doridon he cried,
And tearing then his hair, O hapless tide
(Quoth he) behold fome curfed hand hath ta'en
From Fida this; O what infernal bane,
Or more then hellifh fiend enforced this!
Pure as the ftream of aged Symois,
And as the spotlefs lily was her foul!
Ye facred powers that round about the pole
Turn in your fpheres! O could you fee this deed,
And keep your motion? If the eldest feed
Of chained Saturn hath fo often been
In hunters and in thepherd's habit feen

• Jupiter.

To trace our woods, and on our fertile plains
Woo thepherd's daughters with melodious ftrains,
Where was he now, or any other power?
So many fev'ral lambs have 1 each hour

And crooked horned rams brought to your fhrines,

And with perfumes clouded the fun that shines,
Yet now forfaken? to an uncouth state
Muft all things run, if fuch will be ingrate.
Ceafe Remond (quoth the boy) no more com-
plain,

"Thy fairest Fida lives; nor do thou stain
With vile reproaches any power above,
They all as much as thee have been in love:
Saturn his Rhea; Jupiter had ftore,
As lö, Leda, Europa, and more;

Mars entered Vulcan's bed, partook his joy;
Phoebus had Daphne and the + fweet fac'd boy;
Venus Adonis; and the god of wit

In chafleft bonds was to the mufes knit,
And yet remains fo, nor can any fever
His love, but brother-like affects them ever;
Pale changeful Cynthia her Endymion had,
And oft on Latmus fported with that lad:
If thefe were fubject (as all mortal men),
Unto the golden shafts, they could not then
But by their own affections rightly guefs
Her death would draw on thine; thy wretched-
nefs

Charge them refpectlefs; fince no fwain than thee

Hath off'red more unto each deity.

But fear not Remond, for thofe facred powers
Tread on oblivion; no defert of ours
Can be intomb'd in their celestial breasts;
They weigh our off'rings, and our folemn feasts,
And they forget thee not: Fida (thy dear)
Treads on the earth, the blood that's fprinkled

here

Ne'er fill'd her vines, the hind poffeft this gore,
See where the collar lies fhe whilome wore;
Some dog hath flain her, or the griping carl
That spoils our plains in digging them for marl.
Look as two little brothers who addrest
To fearch the hedges for a thrufh's neft,
And have no fooner got the leavy spring,
When mad in luft with fearful bellowing
Aftrong-neck'd bull purfues throughout the field,
One climbs a tree, and takes that for his fhield,
Whence looking from one pafture to another,
What might betide to his much-loved brother,
Further then can his over-drowned eyes
Aright perceive, the furious beaft he spies,
Tofs fomething on his horns, he knows not what;
But one thing fears, and therefore thinks it that:
When coming nigher he doth well difcern
It of the wondrous one-night-feeding fern
Some bundle was; yet thence he homeward goes
Penfive and fad, nor can abridge the throes
His fear began, but still his mind doth move
Unto the worst: "Mistrust goes ftill with love."
So far'd it with our fhepherd, though he faw
Not ought of Fida's raiment, which might draw

† Hyacinth.

A more fufpicion; though the collar lay
There on the grafs, yet goes he thence away
Full of miftruft, and vows to leave that plain
Till he embrace his chastest love again,
Love wounded Doridon entreats him then
That he might be his partner, fince no men
Had cafes liker; he with him would go,
Weep when he wept, and figh when he did fo
1 quoth the boy, will fing thee fongs of love,
And as we fit in fome all-fhady grove,
Where Philomela and fuch fweet'ned throat,
Are for the mastry tuning various nutes,
I'll frive with them, and tune fo fad a verse,
That whilft to thee my fortunes I rehearse
No bird but fhall be mute, her note decline,
And ceafe her woe, to lend an ear to mine,
I'll tell thee tales of love, and fhew thee how
The gods have wand'red as we fhepherds now;
And when thou plain' thy Fida's lofs, will I
Echo the fame, and with mine own, fupply.
Know Remond I do love, but well-a-day

I know not whom; but as the gladfome May
She's fair and lovely, as a goddess the
(If fuch as her's a goddess beauty be)
First flood before nie, and inquiring was
How to the marifh fhe might fooneft pafs,
When ruth'd a villain in, hell be his lot,

And drew her thence, fince when I faw her not,
Nor know I where to fearch; but if thou please
'Tis not a forefl, mountain, rocks, or feas,
Can in thy journey ftop my going on.
Fate fo may fmile on haplefs Doridon,
That he rebleft may be with her fair fight
Though thence his eyes poffefs eternal night.

Remond agreed, and many weary days:
They now had spent in unfrequented ways:
About the rivers, valleys, holts, and crags,
Among the ofiers and the waving flags,
They nearly pry, if any dens there be,
Where from the fun might harbour cruelty:
Or if they could the bones of any spy,
Or torn by beafts, or human tyranny,
They clofe inquiry make in caverne blind,
Yet what they look for would be death to find,
Right as a curious man that would defcry
(Lead by the trembling hand of jealousy)
If his fair wife have wrong'd his bed or no,
Meeteth his torment if he find her fo.

One ev'n c're Phoebus (near the golden fhore Of Tagus ftrean) his journey gan give o'er, They had afcended up a woody hill (Where oft the Fauni with their bugles fhrill Wakened the echo, and with many a fhout Follow'd the fearful deer the woods about, Or through the breaks that hide the craggy rocks, Digg'd to the hole where lies the wily fox.) Thence they beheld an underlying vale Where Flora fet her rareft flowers at fale, Whither the thriving bee came oft to fuck them, And faireft nymphs to deck their hair did pluck

them.

Where oft the goddeffes did run at base,
And on white hearts begun the wild-goofe chafe
Here various nature feem'd adorning this,
In imitation of the fields of blifs;

Or as fhe would entice the fouls of men
To leave Elyfium, and live here again,
Not Hybla mountain in the jocund prime
Upon her many bushes of fweet thyme
Shews greater number of industrious bees,
Then were the birds that fung there on the trees.
Like the trim windings of a wanton lake,
That doth his paffage through a meadow make
Ran the delightful valley 'tween two hills:
From whole rare trees the precious balm distils,
And hence Apollo had his fimples good
That cur'd the gods, hurt by the earth's ill brood,
A crystal river on her bofom flid,

And (paffing) feem'd in fullen mutt'rings chid
The artless fongfters, that their music still
Should charm the fweet dale, and the wiftfull
hill,

Not fuffering her fhrill waters as they run
Tua'd with a whittling gale in unifon,
To tell as high they priz'd the bord'red vale,
As the quick linnet or fweet nightingale.
Down from a fteep rock came the water firft,
(Where lufty fatyrs often quench'd their thirst)
And with no little speed feem'd all in hafte
Till it the lovely bottom had embrac'd ;
Then as entranc'd to hear the sweet birds fing,
In curled whirlpools the her courfe doth bring,
As lothe to leave the fongs that lull'd the dale,
Or waiting time when the and some soft gale
Should speak what true delight they did poffefs
Among the rare flowers which the valley drefs.
But fince thofe quaint muficians would not stay,
Nor fuffer any to be heard but they :
Much like a little lad who gotten new
To play his part amongst a skilful crew
Of choice musicians, on some softer string
That is not heard; the other's fingering
Drowning his art; the boy would gladly get
Applaufe with others that are of his fet,
And therefore ftrikes a stroke loud as the best
And often defcants when his fellows reft;
That, to be heard (as ufual fingers do)
spoils his own mufic and his partners too;
So at the further end the waters fell
From off an high bank down a lowly dell,
As they had vow'd ere paffing from that ground,
The birds fhould be enforc'd to hear their found.
No imall delight the fhepherds took to fee
A coomb fo dight in Flora's livery,
Where fair Feronia † honour'd in the woods,
And all the deities that haunt the floods,
With powerful nature ftrove to frame a plot,
Whofe like the fweet Arcadia yielded not.
Down through the arched wood the fhepherd's
wend,

t

Where they were looking on a tree, whose rind A love-knot held which two join'd hearts en twin'd;

But fearching round, upon an aged root
Thick lined with mofs, which (though to little
boot)

Seem'd as a fhelter it had lending been
Against cold winter's ftorms and wreakful teen;
Or clad the ftock in fummer with that hue,
His withered branches not a long time knew:
For in his hollow trunk and perish'd grain
The cuckow now had many a winter lain,
And thriving pifmires laid their eggs in ftore;
The dormouse flept there, and a many more.
Here fat the lad, of whom I think of old
Virgil's prophetic fpirit had foretold,
Who whilft dame nature, for her cunning's fake,
A male or female doubted which to make,
And to adorn him, more than all, affay'd,
This pretty youth was almoft made a maid.
Sadly he fat (and as would grief) alone,
As if the boy and tree had been one,
Whilft down near boughs did drops of amber

creep,

As if his forrow made the trees to weep.
If ever this were true in Ovid's verfe,
That tears have power an adamant to pierce,
Or move things void of fenfe, 'twas here ap-
prov'd.

Things vegetative, once, his tears have mov'd.
Surely the ftones might well be drawn, in pity
To burst that he fhould moan, as for a ditty
To come and range themfelves in order all,
And of their own accord raise Thebes a wall.
Or elfe his tears (as did the other's fong)
Might have th' attractive power to move the
throng

Of all the forefts, citizens, and woods,
With every denizen of air and floods,
To fit by him and grieve; to leave their jars,
Their ftrifes, diffentations, and all civil wars;
And though else disagreeing, in this one
Mourning for him fhould make an union.
For whom the heavens would wear a sable fuit,
If men, beasts, fishes, birds, trees, flones, were

mute.

His eyes were fixed (rather fixed ftars)

With whom it feem'd his tears had been in wars,
The diff'rence this (a hard thing to defcry);
Whether the drops were cleareft or his eye.
Tears fearing conqueft to the eye might fall,
An inundation brought and drowned all.
Yet like true virtue from the top of state
(Whofe hopes vile envy hath feen ruinate)
Being lowly caft, her goodness doth appear
(Uncloth'd of greatneis) more apparent clear:
So though dejected, yet remain a feature
Made forrow sweet plac'd in fo fweet a creature.
"The teft of mifery the trueft is,

"In that none hatli, but what is furely his."
His arms across, his sheep hook lay beside him:
Had Venus país'd this way, and chanc'è t' have
fpied him,

With open breaft, locks on his fhoulders spread, She would have fworn (had fhe not feen him dead);

It was Adonis; or if efer there was
Held tranfmigration by Pythagoras,
Of fouls, that certain then, her loft loves fpirit
A fairer body never could inherit.
His pipe which often wont upon the plain
To found the Dorian, Phrygiau, Lydian frain,
Lay from his hook and bag clean caft apart,
And almoft broken like his matter's heart.
Yet till the two kind fhepherds near him flept,
I find he nothing fpake, but that he wept.

Ceafe, gentle lad (quoth Remond) let no tear Cloud thofe fweet beauties in thy face appear; Why dost thou call on that which comes alone, And will not leave thee till thyfelf art gone? Thou may ft have grief when other things are reft thee,

All elfe may flide away, this ftill is left thee;
And when thou wantcft other company
Sorrow will ever be embracing thee.

But faireft fwain what caufe haft thou of wee?
Thou haft a well flecc'd flock feed to and fro,
(His sheep along the valley that time fed
Not far from him, although unfollowed)
What do thy yews abortive bring? or lambs
For want of milk feek to their fellows dams?
No griping landlord hath enclos'd thy walks,
Ner toiling ploughman furrow'd them in baulks.
Nor hath adorn'd thy paftures all in green
With clover grafs as freth as may be feen :
Clear gliding (prings refresh thy meadow's heat,
Meads promife to thy charge their winter meat,
And yet thou griev't. O had fome twains thy
ftore;
[more:

Their pipes fhould tell the woods they afk'd no
Or have the Parce with impartial knife
Left fome friend's body tenantlefs of life, [morn
And thou bemoan't that fate in his youth's
O'ercaft with clods his light but newly born?
"Count not how many years he is bereav'd,
"But thofe which he poffeft and had receiv'd;
"If I may tread no longer on this ftage,
Though others think ne young; it is mine age.
"For who fo hath his fate's full period told,
Ele full of years departs, and dieth old."
May be that avarice thy mind hath croft,
And lo thy fighs are for fome trifle loft.
Why fould theu hold that dea: the world throws
on thee?

"Think nothing good which may be taken from "thee."

Lock as fome pond'rous weight or massy pack,
Laid to b carried on a pocter's back,
Deth make his ftrong joints crack, and forceth him
Maugre the help of every nerve and limb,
To fraggle in Lis gait, and goeth double,
Bending to earth, fuch is his burden's trouble:
So any one by avarice ingirt,

And if with wealth, fics grov'ling in the dirt.
Eis wretched mind bends to no point but this,
That who both nucít of wealth hath most of blifs.
Hace comes the world to feck fuch traffic forth,
And peliige through the congealed roith,
Who, when their hairs with ificles are hung,
And that their chatt'ring teeth confound their
tongue,

66

But he which nothing hath, yet afketh leaft. "If thou a life by nature's leading pitch, "Thou never fhalt be poor, nor never rich "Led by opinion; for their states are such, "Nature but little feeks, opinion much.” Amongst the many buds proclaiming May (Decking the fields in holiday's array, Striving who fhall furpafs in bravery), Mark the fair blooming of the hawthorn tree; Who finely clothed in a robe of white, Feeds full the wanton eye with May's delight; Yet for the bravery that she is in, Doth neither handle card nor wheel to fpin, Nor changeth robes but twice, is never feen In other colours than in white or green. Learn then content, young fhepherd, from this tree, Whofe greatet wealth is nature's livery; And richest ingets never toil to find, Nor care for poverty, but of the † mind.

This fpoke young Remond: yet the mournful

lad

Not once reply'd; but with a fmile, though fad,
He fhook his head, then crofs'd his arms again,
And from his eyes did fhow'rs of falt tears rain;
Which wrought fo on the fwains, they could not
fmother

Their fighs, but spent them freely as the other.
Tell us quoth Doridon) thou fairer far,
Than the whole chastity made him a star,
More fit to throw the wounding shafts of love,
Than follow theep and pine here in a grove.
O do not hide thy forrows fhew them brief;
"He oft finds aid that doth difclofe his grief."
If thou wouldst it continue, thou doft wrong;
"No man can forrow very much and long."
For thus much loving nature hath difpos'd,
That 'mongft the woes that have us round en-
clos'd,

That comfort's left (and we should blefs her for't),
That we may make our griefs be borne, or fhort,
Believe me. Thepherd, we are men no lefs
Free from the killing throes of heaviness
Than thou art here, and but this diff'rence fure
That ufe hath made us apter to endure.
More he had spoke, but that a bugle fhrill
Rung through the valley from the higher hill,
And as they turn'd them tow'rds the hark'ning
found,

A gallant fag, as if he fcorn'd the ground,

Luke, c. 12. v. 27. Spencer's Fairy Queen, b. 2

c. 6. § 16. v E.

+ Mat c. 5. 9.3. + Hippolitus.