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He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood Others the utmost boughs of trees doe crop,
And brouze the woodbine twigges that freshly bad;
Of some soft willow, or new growen stud; Or whereas Mount Parnasse, the Muses brood, This with sharpe teeth the bramble leares doth lop, Doth his broad forhead like two hornes divide, And chaw the tender prickles in her cud, And the sweete waves of sounding Castaly The whiles another high doth overlooke With liquid fuote doth slide downe easily. Her owne like image in a christiall brooke. Wherefore ye sisters, which the glorie bee O the great happines, which shepheards have, Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades,
Who so loathes not too much the poore estate, Go too; and, dauncing all in companie,
With minde that ill use doth before deprave, Adorne that god: and thou holie Pales,
Ne measures all things by the costly rate To whome the honest care of husbandrie
Of riotise, and semblants outward brave! Returneth by continuall successe,
No such sad cares, as wont to macerate Have care for to pursue his footing light [dight. And rend the greedie mindes of covetous men, Throgh the wide woods, and groves, with green leaves Do ever creepe into the shépheards den. Professing thee I lifted am aloft
Ne cares be if the fleece, which him arayes,
Be not twice steeped in Assyrian dye;
Ne glistering of golde, which underlayes
The summer beames, doe blinde his gazing eye; O come, thou sacred childe, come sliding soft,
Ne pictures beautie, por the glauncing rayes And favour my beginnings graciously: Por not these leaves do sing that dreadfull stound,
Of precious stones, whence no good commeth by;
Ne yet his cup embost with imagery
Of Boetus or of Alcons vanity.
Ne ought the whelky pearles esteemeth hee,
Which are from Indian seas brought far away: Barnt th’Attick towres, and people slew with sword; But with pure brest from carefull sorrow free, Nor how Mount Athos through exceeding might
On the soft grasse bis limbs doth oft display, Was digged downe; nor yron bands abord In sweete spring time, when flowres varietie The Pontick sea by their huge navy cast ;
With sundrie colours paints the sprinckled lay; My volume shall renowne, so long since past.
There, lying all at ease from guile or spight,
With pype of fennie reedes doth him delight.
There he, lord of himselfe, with palme bedight, But my soft Muse, as for her power more meete,
His looser locks doth wrap in wreath of vine: Delights (with Phoebus friendly leave) to play
There his milk-dropping goats be bis delight, An easie running verse with tender feete.
And fruitefull Pales, and the forrest greene, And thou, dread sacred cbild, to thee alway,
And darkesome caves in pleasaunt vallies pight, Let everlasting lightsome glory strive,
Wheras continuall shade is to be seene, Through the worlds endles ages to survive. And where fresh springing we'ls, as cbristall neate,
Do alwayes flow, to quench his thirstie fieate. And let an happie roome remaine for thee Mongst heavenly ranks, where blessed soules do rest; Than he, that with cleane minde, and heart sincere,
O! who can lead then a more happie life And let long lasting life with joyous glee,
No greedy riches knows nor bloudie strife, As thy due meede that thou deservest best,
No deadly fight of warlick fleete doth feare; Hereafter many yeares remembred be
Ne runs in perill of foes cruell knife, Amongst good men, of whom thou oft are blest;
That in the sacred temples he may reare Live thou for ever in all happinesse!
A trophee of his glittering spoyles and treasure, But let us turne to our first businesse.
Or may abound in riches above measure. The fiery Sun was mounted now on hight
Of him his God is worshipt with his sythe, Up to the heavenly towers, and shot each where
And not with skill of craftsman polished: Out of his golden charet glistering light;
He ioyes in groves, and makes himselfe full blythe And fayre Aurora, with her rosie beare,
With sundrie flowers in wilde fieldes gathered ; The hatefull darknes now had put to flight; Ne frankincens he from Panchæa buyth : When as the shepheard, seeing day appeare, Sweete Quiet harbours in his harmeles head, His little goats gan drive out of their stalls,
And perfect Pleasure buildes her iogous bowre, To feede abroad, where pasture best befalls.
Free from sad cares, that rich mens hearts devowre. To an high mountaines top he with them went, This all his care, this all his whole indevour, Where thickest grasse did cloath the open hills: To this his minde and senses he doth bend, They now amongst the woods and thickets ment, How he may flow in quiets matchles treasour, Now in the valleies wandring at their wills, (scent; Content with any food that God doth send; Spread themselves farre abroad through each de And how his limbs, resolv'd through idle leisour, Some on the soft greene grasse feeding their fills; Unto sweete sleepe be may securely lend, Some, clambring through the hollow cliffes on hy, In some coole shadow from the scorching heat, Nibble the bushie shrubs which growe thereby. The whiles his dock their chawed cuds do eate.
0 Aocks, O faunes, and Oye pleasaunt springs Here also grew the rougher-rinded pine,
Which coveting, with his high tops extent,
Emongst the rest the clambring yvie grew, This shepheard drives, upleaning on his batt,
Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold, And en shrill reedes chaunting his rustick rime;
Least that the poplar happely should rew Hyperion, throwing fourth his beames full hott, Her brothers strokes, whose boughes she doth enfold Into the highest top of Heaven gan clime,
With her lythe twigs, till they the top survew, And, the world parting by an equall lott,
And paint with pallid greene her buds of goldo Did shed his whirling flames on either side,
Next did the myrtle tree to her approach, As the great ocean doth himselfe divide.
Not yet unmindfull of her olde reproach.
But the small birds, in their wide boughs emThen gan the shepheard gather into one
bowring, His strayling goates, and drave them to a foord,
Chaunted their sundrie tunes with sweete consent; Whose cærule streame, rombling in pible stone,
And under them a silver spring, forth powring Crept under mosse as greene as any goord. Now had the Sun balfe Heaven overgone,
His trickling streames, a gentle murmure sent;
Thereto the frogs, bred in the-slimie scowring When he his heard back from that water foord
Of the moist moores, their iarring voyces bent; Drave, from the force of Phoebus boyling ray,
And shrill grashoppers chirped them around : Into thick shadowes, there themselves to lay.
All which the ayrie echo did resound. Soone as he then plac'd in thy sacred wood In this so pleasant place the shepheards flocke (0 Delian goddesse) saw, to which of yore
Lay everie where, their wearie limbs to rest, Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood, On everie bush, and everie hollow rocke, [bests Cruell Agavè, flying vengeance sore
Where breathe on them the whistling wiod mote Of king Nictileus for the guiltie blood,
The whiles the shepheard self, tending his stocke, Which she with cursed bands had shed before ; Sate by the fountaine side, in shade to rest, There she balfe frantick, having slaine her sonne, Where gentle slumbring sleep oppressed him Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne. Displaid on ground, and seized everie lim. Here also playing on the grassy greene,
Of trecherie or traines nought tooke he keep, Woodgods, and Satyres, aud swift Dryades,
But, looslie on the grassie greene dispredd, With inany Fairies oft were dauncing seene.
His dearest life did trust to careles sleep; Not so much did Dan Orpheus represse
Which, weighing down his drouping drowsie hedd, The streames of Hebrus with his songs, I weene, In quiet rest his molten heart did steep, As that faire troupe of woodie goddesses
Devoid of care, and feare of all falshedd: Staied thee, O Peneus, powring foorth to thee, (glee. Had not inconstant fortune, bent to ill, From cheereful lookes, great mirth and gladsome Bid strange mischance his quietnes to spill. The verie nature of the place, resounding
For at bis wonted time in that same place With gentle murmure of the breathing ayre, An huge great serpent, all with speckles piden A pleasant bowre with all delight abounding To drench bimselfe in moorish slime did trace, In the fresh shadowe did for them prepayre,
There from the boyling heate himselfe to hide: To rest their limbs with wearines redounding. He, passing by with rolling wreathed pace, For first the high palme-trees, with braunches faire, with brandisht tongue the emptie aire did gride, Out of the lowly vallies did arise,
And wrapt his scalie boughts with fell despight, And high shoute up their heads into the skyes. That all things seem'd appalled at his sight. And them amongst the wicked lotos grew,
Now, more and more having himselfe enrolde, Wicked, for holding guilefully away
His glittering breast he lifteth up on hie, Ulysses men, whom rapt with sweetenes new, And with proud vaunt his head aloft doth holde; Taking to hoste, it quite from him did stay; His creste above, spotted with purple die, And eke those trees, in whose transformed hew On everie side did shine like scalie golde; The Sunnes sad daughters waylde the rash decay And his bright eyes, glauncing full dreadfullie, Of Phaëton, whose limbs with lightening rent Did seeme to flame out flakes of flashing fyre, They gathering up, with sweete teares did lament. And with sterne lookes to threaten kindled yre. And that same tree, in which Demophoon, Thus wise long time he did himselfe dispace, By his disloyalty lamented sore,
There round about, when as at last he spide, Eternall hurte left unto many one:
Lying along before him in that place, Whom als accompanied tbe oke, of yore
That flocks grand captaine and most trustie guide: Through fatall charmes transformd to such an one: Eftsoones more fierce iu visage, and in pace, The oke, whose acornes were our foode before Throwing his firie eyes on everie side, That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne, He commeth on, and all things in his way Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sowne. Full stearnly rends, that might his passage stay. VOL III.
Much he disdaines, that anie one should dare “ So livest thou ; but my poore wretched ghost
Lightned with deadly lamps on everie post?
And barke out flames, as if on fire he fed;
Adowne whose necke, in terrible array,
He oftentimes me dreadfullie doth threaten
Eren from the doore of death and deadlie dreed.
Where the reward of my so piteous deed? When, suddenly casting aside his vew,
The praise of Pitie ranisht is in vaine, He spide bis foe with felonous intent,
And th' antique faith of Justice long agone And fervent eyes to his destruction bent.
Out of the land is filed away and gone. All suddenly dismaid, and hartles quight,
“ I saw anothers fate approaching fast, He fed abacke, and, catching hastie holde And left mine owne his safētie to tender; Of a yong alder hard beside him pight,
Into the same mishap I now am cast,
Yet let destruction be the punishment,
So long as thankfull will may it relent. The scalie backe of that most hideous snake “ I carried him into waste wildernesse, Enwrapped round, oft fayning to retire,
Waste wildernes, amongst Cymerian shades,
Where endles paines and hideous heavinesse
By this the Night forth from the darksome bowre “ And there is mournfull Tityus, mindefull yet
Of thy displeasure, O Latona faire;
Displeasure too implacable was it,
That made him meat for wild foules of the ayre:
Much do I feare back to them to repayre,
Where wretched ghosts sit wailing evermore.
Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe
“ There next the utmost brinck doth he abide, Was entered, and, now loosing everie lim,
That did the bankets of the gods bewray, · [urde Sweete slumbring deaw in carelesnesse did steepe; Whose threat through thirst to nought nigh being The image of that Gnat appeard to him,
His scnse to seeke for ease tarnes every way:
Calling in vaine for rest, and can have none.
Whose bridale torches foule Erynnis tynde;
With them that cruell Colchid mother dwells,
With bitter woundes her owne deere babes to slay, Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display. And murdred troupes upon great beapes to lay.
“ There also those two Pandionian maides, “ She, (ladie) having well before approoved Calling on Itis, Itis evermore,
The feends to be too cruell and severe, When, wretched boy, they slew with guiltie blades; Observ'd th’appointed way, as her behooved, For whorne the Thracian king lamenting sore, Ne ever did her eysight turne arere, jurn'd to a lapwing, fowlie them upbraydes, Ne ever spake, ne cause of speaking mooved; Aud fluttering round about them still does sore; But, cruell Orpheus, thou much crueller, There now they all eternally complaine
Seeking to kisse her, brook'st the gods decree, ! Of others wrong, and suffer endles paine.
And thereby mad'st her ever damn'd to be. “ But the two brethren borné of Cadmus blood, “ Ah! but sweete love of pardon worthie is, Whilst each does for the soveraignty contend, And doth deserve to bave small faults remitted; Blinde through ambition, and with vengeance wood, If Hell at least things lightly done amis Each doth against the others bodie bend
Knew how to pardon, when ought is omitted ; His cursed steele, of neither well withstood, Yet are ye both received into blis, And with wide wounds their carcases doth rend; And to the seates of happie soules admitted : That yet they both doe mortall foes remaine, And you, beside the honourable band Sith each with brothers bloudie hand was slaine. Of great heroës, doo in order stand. “ Ah (waladay!) there is no end of paine, “ There be the two stout sonnes of Æacus, Nor chaunge of labour may intreated bee: Fierce Peleus, and the hardie Telamon, Yet I beyond all these am carried faine,
Both seeming now full glad and joyeous Where other powers farre different I see,
Through their syres dreadfull iurisdiction, AnI must passe over to th’ Elisian plaine: Being the iudge of all that horrid hous: There grim Persephone, encountring mee, And both of them, by strange occasion, Doth urge ber fellow furies earnestlie
Renown'd in choyce of happie marriage With their bright firebronds me to terrifie. Through Venus grace, and vertues cariage. “ 'There chast Alceste lives inviolate,
“ For th’ one was ravisht of his owne bondmaide, Pree from all care, for that her husbands daies The faire Ixione captiv'd from Troy: She did prolong by changing fate for fate:
But th' other was with Thetis love assaid,
Great Nereus his daughter and his joy,
Their match in glorie, mightie, fierce, and coy ;
“O! who would not recount the strong divorces Must turne to life, but there detained bee
Of that great warre, which Troianes oft behelde, For looking back, being forbid before :
And oft beheld the warlike Greekish forces, Yet was the guilt thereof, Orpheus, in thee ! When Teucrian soyle with bloodie rivers swelde, Bold sore he was, and worthie spirite bore, And wide Sigæan shores were spred with corses, That durst those lowest shadowes goe to see, And Simois and Xanthus blood outwelde ; And could beleeve that anie thing could please Whilst Hector raged, with outragious minde, styude, Fell Cerberus, or Stygian powres appease. Flames, weapons, wounds, in Greeks fleete to have " Ne feard the burning waves of Phlegeton, “ For Ida selfe, in ayde of that fierce fight, Nor those same mournefull kingdomes, compassed Out of her mountaines ministred supplies ; With rustie horrour and fowle fashion;
And, like a kindly nourse, did yeeld (for spight) Aed deep digd vawtes; and Tartar covered Store of firebronds out of her nourseries With bloodie night, and darke confusion; Unto her foster children, that they might And indgement seates, whose iudge is deadlie dred, Inflame the navie of their enemies, A judge, that after death doth punish sore And all the Rhélæan shore to ashes turne, The faults, which life hath trespassed before. Where lay the ships, which they did seeke to burne. “ But valiant fortune made Dan Orpheus bolde: “ Gainst which the noble sonne of Telamon For the swift running rivers still did stand, Oppos'd himselfe, and, thwarting his huge shield, And the wilde beasts their furie did withhold, Them battell bad, gainst whom appeard anon To follow Orpheus musicke through the land: Hector, the glorie of the Troian field : And th'okes, deep grounded in the earthly molde, Bóth fierce and furious in contention Did move, as if they could him understand; Encountred, that their mightie strokes so shrild, And the shrill woods, which were of sense bereavid, As the great clap of thunder, which doth ryve Through their hard barke his silver sound receav'd. The ratling Heavens, and cloudes asunder dryve. “ And eke the Moone her hastie steedes did stay, “ So th' one with fire and weapons did contend Drawing in teemes along the starrie skie;
To cut the ships from turning home againe And didst, O monthly virgin, thou delay
To Argos; th’ other strove for to defend Thy nightly course, to heare his melodie?
The force of Vulcane with his might and maine. The same was able with like lovely lay
Thus th’ one Æacide did his fame extend: The queene' of Hell to move as easily,
But th' other ioy'd, that, on the Phrygian playne To yeeld Eurydice unto her fere
Having the blood of vanquisht Hector shedd, Backe to be borne, though it uslawfull were. He compast Troy thrice with his bodie Jedd.
“ Againe great dole on either partie grewe, “ Here manie other like heroës bee, That him to death unfaithfull Paris sent;
Fquall in honour to the former crue, And also him that false Ulysses slewe,
Whom ye in goodly seates may placed see, Drawne into danger through close ambushment; Descended all from Rome by linage due; Therefore from him Laërtes sonne his vewe From Rome, that holds the world in sovereigntie, Doth turne aside, and boasts his good event And doth all nations unto her subdue: In working of Strymonian Rhæsus fall,
Here Fabii and Decii doo dwell, And efte in Dolons subtile surprysall.
Horatii that in vertue did excell. Againe the dreadfull Cycones him dismay, “ And here the antique fame of stout Camill And blacke Læstrigones, a people stout :
Doth ever live; and constant Curtius, Then greedie Scilla, under wborn there bay Who, stifly bent his vowed life to spill Manie great bandogs, which her gird about : For countreyes health, a gulph most hideous Then doo the Ætnean Cyclops him affray,
Amidst the towne with his owne corps did bll, And deep Charybdis gulphing in and out:
To appease the powers; and prudent Mutius, Lastly the squalid lakes of Tartarie,
Who in bis fesh endur'd the scorching flame, And griesly feends of Hell him terrifie.
To daunt his foe by' ensample of the same. “ There also goodly Agamemnon bosts,
“ And here wise Curius, companion The glorie of the stock of Tantalus,
Of noble vertues, lives in endles rest; And famous light of all the Greekish hosts; And stout Flaminius, whose devotion Under whose conduct most victorious,
Taught him the fires scoru'd furie to detest; The Dorick flames consum'd the Iliack posts. And here the praise of either Scipion Ah! but the Greekes themselves, more dolorous, Abides in highest place above the best, To thee, O Troy, paid penaunce for thy fall; To whom the ruin'd walls of Carthage yow'd, In th' Hellespont being nigh drowned all.
Trembling their forces, sound their praises lowd. “ Well may appeare by proofe of their mischaunce, “ Live they for ever through their lasting praise ! The chaungfull turning of mens slipperie state, But I, poore wretch, am forced to retourne That none, whom fortune freely doth advaunce, To the sad lakes that Phæbus supnie rayes Himselfe therefore to Heaven should elevate: Doo never see, where soules doo alwaies mourne; For loftie type of honour, through the glaunce And by the wayling shores to waste my dayes, Of envies dart, is downe in dust prostrate; Where Phlegeton with quenchles flames doth bame; And all, that vaunts in worldiy vanitie,
By which iust Minos righteous squles doth sever Shall fall through fortunes mutabilitie.
From wicked ones, to live in blisse for ever. “ Th’ Argolicke power returning home againe, “ Me therefore thus the cruell fiends of Hell Enricht with spoyles of th’ Ericthonian towre, Girt with long suakes, and thousand yron chaynes, Did happie winde and weather entertaine,
Through doome of that their cruell judge, compelt And with good speed the fomie billowes scowre: With bitter torture, and impatient paines, No signe of storme, no feare of future paine, Cause of my death and iust complaint to tell. Which soone ensued them with heavie stowre. For thou art he, whom my poore ghost complaines Nereis to the seas a token gave,
To be the author of her ill unwares, The whiles their crooked keeles the surges clave. That careles hear'st my' intollerable cares. “ Suddenly, whether through the gods decree, “ Them therefore as bequeathing to the winde, Or haplesse rising of some froward starre,
I now depart, returning to thee never, The Heavens on everie side enclowded bee: And leave this lamentable plaint behinde. Black stormes and fogs are blowen up from farre, But doo thou haunt the soft-downe-rolling river, That now the pylote can no loadstarre see, And wilde greene woods and fruitful pastures minde; But skies and seas doo make most dreadfull warre; And let the flitting aire my vaine words sever."The billowes striving to the Heavens to reach, Thus having said, he heavily departed And th' Heavens striving them for to impeach. With piteous crie, that anie would have smarted. << And, in avengement of their bold attempt, Now, when the sloathfull fit of lifes sweete rest Both Sun and starres and all the heavenly powres Had left the heavie shepheard, wondrous cares Conspire in one to wreake their rash contempt, His inly grieved minde fuli sore opprest; And downe on them to fall from highest towres : That balefull sorrow he no longer beares The skie, in pieces seeming to be rent, (showres, For that Goats death, which deeply was imprest; Throwes lightning forth, and haile, and harmful But bends what ever power his aged yeares That death on everie side to them appeares, Him lent, yet being such, as through their might In thousand formes, to worke more ghastly feares. He lately slue bis dreadfull foe in fight. « Some in the greedie flouds are sunke and drent; By that same river lurking under greene, Some on the rocks of Caphareus are throne; Eftsooves he gins to fashion forth a place; Some on th' Euboick cliffs in pieces rent;
And, squaring it in compasse well beseene, Some scattred on the Hercæan shores unknowne; There plotteth out a tombe by measured space: And manie lost, of whom no moniment
His yron-beaded spade tho making cleene, Remaines, nor memorie is to be showne:
To dig up sods out of the flowrie grasse, Whilst all the purchase of the Phrigian pray, His worke he shortly to good purpose brought, Tost on salt billowes, round about doth stray. Like as he had conceiv'd it in his thought.