Chapter VIII: Part 8

The Nimphes. _No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,
(Their numbers let vs muster)
But hath from thy most powerfull beames
The Vertue and the Lustre; 100
The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
The first is to be placed,
That glory is of Diadems,
Them gracing, by them graced:
In whom thy power the most is seene,
The raging fire refelling:
The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
For beauty most excelling,
Resisting poyson often prou'd
By those about that beare it. 110
The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou'd,
That doth reuiue the spirit,
Whose kinde to large extensure growne
The colour so enflamed,
Is that admired mighty stone
The Carbunckle that's named,
Which from it such a flaming light
And radiency eiecteth,
That in the very dark'st of night
The eye to it directeth. 120
The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,
Of which who hath the keeping,
No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,
And much prouoketh sleeping:
The Chrisolite, that doth resist
Thirst, proued, neuer failing,
The purple colored Amatist,
'Gainst strength of wine prevailing;
The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,
Most soueraine ouer passion: 130
The Sardonix approu'd by vs
To master Incantation.
Then that celestiall colored stone
The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,
Which worne, there wearinesse is none,
And cureth melancholly:
The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew
With golden vaines is graced;
The Iaspis, of so various hew,
Amongst our other placed; 140
The Onix from the Ancients brought,
Of wondrous Estimation,
Shall in amongst the rest be wrought
Our sacred Shryne to fashion;
The Topas, we'll stick here and there,
And sea-greene colored Berill,
And Turkesse, which who haps to beare
Is often kept from perill,
To Selenite, of _Cynthia's_ light,
So nam'd, with her still ranging, 150
Which as she wanes or waxeth bright
Its colours so are changing.
With Opalls, more then any one,
We'll deck thine Altar fuller,
For that of euery precious stone,
It doth retaine some colour;
With bunches of Pearle Paragon
Thine Altars vnderpropping,
Whose base is the Cornelian,
Strong bleeding often stopping: 160
With th' Agot, very oft that is
Cut strangely in the Quarry,
As Nature ment to show in this,
How she her selfe can varry:
With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas
Elizium well might store vs:
But we content our selues with these
That readiest lye before vs:
And thus O _Phoebus_ most diuine
Thine Altars still we hallow, 170
And to thy Godhead reare this Shryne
Our onely wise _Apollo_._

The tenth Nimphall

NAIIS, CLAIA, CORBILVS, SATYRE.

_A Satyre on Elizium lights,
Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,
Yet when they heare his iust complaint,
They make him an Elizian Saint._

_Corbilus._

What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know
What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?
What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?
What might it be from which ye flye so fast?
I see your faces full of pallid feare,
As though some perill followed on your flight;
Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare
Into what danger ye haue lately light.

_Naijs._ Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,
As when kinde, loued _Corbilus_ we saw, 10
When our much haste vs so much weakned had,
That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,
In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,
So fell a monster lying there we found,
As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,
Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.
Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem'd to vs in show,
His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,
But he's a very perfect Goat below,
His crooked Cambrils arm'd with hoofe and hayre. 20

_Claia._ Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,
Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.

_Corbilus._ Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.

_Claia._ How _Corbilus_; a Satyre doe you say?
How should he ouer high _Parnassus_ hit? 30
Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,
But onely those the Muses will permit.

_Corbilus._ 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
By beastly mens abhominable way;
Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
By this base time, or be so much distrest,
That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest. 40

_Naijs._ Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
As at the first, when I and _Claia_ saw him.

_Corbilus._ 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
How, and from whence, he to _Elizium_ came.
Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?
What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store? 50
When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde
Set foot on the Elizian earth before?

_Satyre._ O neuer aske, how I came to this place,
What cannot strong necessity finde out?
Rather bemoane my miserable case,
Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:
With wild _Silvanus_ and his woody crue,
In Forrests I, at liberty and free,
Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,
Nor any rightly can conceiue but we. 60
This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,
Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,
That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.
Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,
That faire _Felicia_ which was but of late,
Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,
Stands now in that most lamentable state,
That not a Siluan will inhabit there;
Where in the soft and most delicious shade,
In heat of Summer we were wont to play, 70
When the long day too short for vs we made,
The slyding houres so slyly stole away;
By _Cynthia's_ light, and on the pleasant Lawne,
The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,
Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,
Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.
The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke
The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,
Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,
Till at the last, they lowder were then they. 80
The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,
Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;
Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,
The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;
Once faire _Felicia_, but now quite defac'd,
Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,
With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd
With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:
But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,
In humane Reason it could neuer be, 90
But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,
Those plagues their next posterity shall see.
The little Infant on the mothers Lap
For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,
That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,
The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;
The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,
And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,
Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,
The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast. 100
Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,
And not a Forrest in _Felicia_ found,
Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,
To dig them caues for houses in the ground:
The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,
Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,
Begging from thence that _Iove_ would dart his fire
Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;
This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide
The name of their braue Ancestors to heare, 110
By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,
So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,
Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,
Of those braue Muses that their Country song,
But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue
The right and honour that to them belong;
This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure
That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;
The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre
Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred. 120
I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come
Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:
And thus am light into Elizium,
To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.

_Naijs._ Poore silly creature, come along with vs,
Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:
Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,
This place content in all abundance yeelds.
We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,
Of _Ioues_ deare Daughters, where in shades they sit, 130
Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,
Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:

_Claia._ Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres
His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:
Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers
With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.

_Corbilus._ Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,
Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:
Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,
And some like beasts in markets sold and bought. 140
Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,
That haue no vnderstanding of their state:
For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,
That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.
And to Elizium be thou welcome then,
Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,
By that vile nation captiued againe,
That many a glorious age their captiues were.

SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND'

[From the Edition of 1593]

The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle,
Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle.

Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide,
Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride.

Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence,
Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence.

Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure,
Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure.

Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward,
Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde. 10

Yea she alone, next that eternall he,
The expresse Image of eternitie.

_From Eclogue ij_

Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue)
The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse,
If this be wrought me my light to bereaue,
By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips
Or vgly _Saturne_ from his combust sent,
This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.

Oh cleerest day-starre, honored of mine eyes,
Yet sdaynst mine eyes should gaze vpon thy light,
Bright morning sunne, who with thy sweet arise,
Expell'st the clouds of my harts lowring night, 10
Goddes reiecting sweetest sacrifice,
Of mine eyes teares ay offered to thine eyes.

May purest heauens scorne my soules pure desires?
Or holy shrines hate Pilgrims orizons?
May sacred temples gaynsay sacred prayers?
Or Saints refuse the poores deuotions?
Then Orphane thoughts with sorrow be you waind,
When loues Religion shalbe thus prophayn'd.

Yet needes the earth must droope with visage sad,
When siluer dewes been turn'd to bitter stormes, 20
The Cheerful _Welkin_, once in sables clad,
Her frownes foretell poore humaine creatures harmes.
And yet for all to make amends for this,
The clouds sheed teares, and weepen at my misse.

_From Eclogue iij_

O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,
_Beta_ alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,
The Queene of Virgins onely she:
And thou the Queene of floods shalt be:
Let all thy Nymphes be ioyfull then to see this happy day,
Thy _Beta_ now alone shalbe the subiect of my laye.

With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest virelayes:
Come louely shepheards sit we down and chant our _Betas_ prayse:
And let vs sing so rare a verse,
Our _Betas_ prayses to rehearse, 10
That little Birds shall silent be, to heare poore shepheards sing,
And riuers backward bend their course, and flow vnto the spring.

Range all thy swannes faire Thames together on a rancke,
And place them duely one by one, vpon thy stately banck,
Then set together all agood,
Recording to the siluer flood,
And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe you with her lay,
The Osel and the Throstlecocke, chiefe musicke of our maye.

O! see what troups of Nimphs been sporting on the strands,
And they been blessed Nimphs of peace, with Oliues in their hands. 20
How meryly the Muses sing,
That all the flowry Medowes ring,
And _Beta_ sits vpon the banck, in purple and in pall,
And she the Queene of Muses is, and weares the Corinall.

Trim vp her Golden tresses with _Apollos_ sacred tree,
O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honor thee,
The Blessed Angels haue prepar'd,
A glorious Crowne for thy reward,
Not such a golden Crowne as haughty _Caesar_ weares,
But such a glittering starry Crowne as _Ariadne_ beares. 30

Make her a goodly Chapilet of azur'd Colombine,
And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglentine:
Bedeck our _Beta_ all with Lillies,
And the dayntie Daffadillies,
With Roses damask, white, and red, and fairest flower delice,
With Cowslips of Jerusalem, and cloues of Paradice.

O thou fayre torch of heauen, the days most dearest light,
And thou bright shyning _Cinthya_, the glory of the night:
You starres the eyes of heauen,
And thou the glyding leuen, 40
And thou O gorgeous _Iris_ with all strange Colours dyd,
When she streams foorth her rayes, then dasht is all your pride.

See how the day stands still, admiring of her face,
And time loe stretcheth foorth her armes, thy _Beta_ to imbrace,
The Syrens sing sweete layes,
The Trytons sound her prayse,
Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean sea,
And let thy billowes there proclaime thy _Betas_ holy-day.

And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree,
With whose sweete shadow, al thy bancks with peace preserued be, 50
Lawrell for Poets and Conquerours,
And mirtle for Loues Paramours:
That fame may be thy fruit, the boughes preseru'd by peace,
And let the mournful Cipres die, now stormes and tempest cease.

Wee'l straw the shore with pearle where _Beta_ walks alone,
And we wil paue her princely Bower with richest Indian stone,
Perfume the ayre and make it sweete,
For such a Goddesse it is meete,
For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light,
No maruaile then although they so doe dazell humaine sight. 60

Sound out your trumpets then, from _London's_ stately towres,
To beate the stormie windes a back and calme the raging showres,
Set too the Cornet and the flute,
The Orpharyon and the Lute,
And tune the Taber and the Pipe, to the sweet violons,
And moue the thunder in the ayre, with lowdest Clarions.

_Beta_ long may thine Altars smoke, with yeerely sacrifice,
And long thy sacred Temples may their Saboths solemnize,
Thy shepheards watch by day and night,
Thy Mayds attend the holy light, 70
And thy large empyre stretch her armes from east vnto the west,
And thou vnder thy feet mayst tread, that foule seuen-headed beast.

_From Eclogue iv_

_Melpomine_ put on thy mourning Gaberdine,
And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,
And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,
with weeping verse,
attend his hearse,
Whose blessed soule the heauens doe now enshrine.

Come Nymphs and with your Rebecks ring his knell,
Warble forth your wamenting harmony,
And at his drery fatall obsequie,
with Cypres bowes, 10
maske your fayre Browes,
And beat your breasts to chyme his burying peale.

Thy birth-day was to all our ioye, the euen,
And on thy death this dolefull song we sing,
Sweet Child of _Pan_, and the _Castalian_ spring,
vnto our endless mone,
from vs why art thou gone,
To fill vp that sweete Angels quier in heauen.

O whylome thou thy lasses dearest loue,
When with greene Lawrell she hath crowned thee, 20
Immortal mirror of all Poesie:
the Muses treasure,
the Graces pleasure,
Reigning with Angels now in heauen aboue.

Our mirth is now depriu'd of all her glory,
Our Taburins in dolefull dumps are drownd.
Our viols want their sweet and pleasing sound,
our melodie is mar'd
and we of ioyes debard,
O wicked world so mutable and transitory. 30

O dismall day, bereauer of delight,
O stormy winter, sourse of all our sorrow,
O most vntimely and eclipsed morrow,
to rob us quite,
of all delight,
Darkening that starre which euer shone so bright.

Oh _Elphin_, _Elphin_, Though thou hence be gone,
In spight of death yet shalt thou liue for aye,
Thy Poesie is garlanded with Baye:
and still shalt blaze 40
thy lasting prayse:
Whose losse poore shepherds euer shall bemone.

Come Girles, and with Carnations decke his graue,
With damaske Roses and the hyacynt:
Come with sweete Williams, Marioram and Mynt,
with precious Balmes,
with hymnes and psalmes,
This funerall deserues no lesse at all to haue.

But see where _Elphin_ sits in fayre Elizia,
Feeding his flocke on yonder heauenly playne, 50
Come and behold, you louely shepheards swayne,
piping his fill
on yonder hill,
Tasting sweete _Nectar_, and _Ambrosia_.

_From Eclogue vij_

_Borrill._

Oh spightfull wayward wretched loue,
Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
Heauens and earth thy plagues doe proue,
Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
Thoughts griefe, hearts woe,
Hopes paine, bodies languish,
Enuies rage, sleepes foe,
Fancies fraud, soules anguish,
Desires dread, mindes madnes,
Secrets bewrayer, natures error, 10
Sights deceit, sullens sadnes,
Speeches expence, Cupids terror,
Malcontents melancholly,
Liues slaughter, deaths nurse,
Cares slaue, dotard's folly,
Fortunes bayte, world's curse,
Lookes theft, eyes blindnes,
Selfes will, tongues treason,
Paynes pleasure, wrongs kindnes,
Furies frensie, follies reason: 20
With cursing thee as I began,
Neither God, neither man,
Neither Fayrie, neither Feend.

_Batte._

Loue is the heauens fayre aspect,
loue is the glorie of the earth,
Loue only doth our liues direct,
loue is our guyder from our birth,

Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie,
loue taught mine eyes the way to loue,
Loue raysed my conceit so hie, 30
loue framd my hand his arte to proue.

Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill,
loue gaue me first to Poesie:
Loue is the Soueraigne of my will,
loue bound me first to loyalty.

Loue was the first that fram'd my speech,
loue was the first that gaue me grace:
Loue is my life and fortunes leech,
loue made the vertuous giue me place.

Loue is the end of my desire, 40
loue is the loadstarre of my loue,
Loue makes my selfe, my selfe admire,
loue seated my delights aboue.

Loue placed honor in my brest,
loue made me learnings fauoret,
Loue made me liked of the best,
loue first my minde on virtue set.

Loue is my life, life is my loue,
loue is my whole felicity,
Loue is my sweete, sweete is my loue, 50
I am in loue, and loue in mee.

_From Eclogue viij_

Farre in the countrey of _Arden_
There wond a knight hight _Cassemen_,
as bolde as _Isenbras_:
Fell was he and eger bent,
In battell and in Tournament,
as was the good sir _Topas_.
He had as antique stories tell,
A daughter cleaped _Dowsabell_,
a mayden fayre and free:
And for she was her fathers heire, 10
Full well she was ycond the leyre,
of mickle curtesie.
The silke wel couth she twist and twine,
And make the fine Marchpine,
and with the needle werke,
And she couth helpe the priest to say
His Mattens on a holyday,
and sing a Psalme in Kirke.
She ware a frocke of frolicke greene,
Might well beseeme a mayden Queene, 20
which seemly was to see.
A hood to that so neat and fine,
In colour like the colombine,
ywrought full featously.
Her feature all as fresh aboue,
As is the grasse that grows by Doue,
as lyth as lasse of Kent:
Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll,
As white as snow on peakish hull,
or Swanne that swims in Trent. 30
This mayden in a morne betime,
Went forth when May was in her prime,
to get sweet Cetywall,
The hony-suckle, the Harlocke,
The Lilly and the Lady-smocke,
to decke her summer hall.
Thus as she wandred here and there,
Ypicking of the bloomed Breere,
she chanced to espie
A shepheard sitting on a bancke, 40
Like _Chanteclere_ he crowed crancke,
and pip'd with merrie glee:
He leard his sheepe as he him list,
When he would whistle in his fist,
to feede about him round:
Whilst he full many a caroll sung,
Vntill the fields and medowes rung,
and that the woods did sound:
In fauour this same shepheards swayne,
Was like the bedlam _Tamburlayne_, 50
which helde prowd Kings in awe:
But meeke he was as Lamb mought be,
Ylike that gentle _Abel_ he,
whom his lewd brother slaw.
This shepheard ware a sheepe gray cloke,
Which was of the finest loke,
that could be cut with sheere,
His mittens were of Bauzens skinne,
His cockers were of Cordiwin
his hood of Meniueere. 60
His aule and lingell in a thong,
His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong,
his breech of Coyntrie blew:
Full crispe and curled were his lockes,
His browes as white as _Albion_ rockes,
so like a louer true.
And pyping still he spent the day,
So mery as the Popingay:
which liked _Dowsabell_,
That would she ought or would she nought, 70
This lad would neuer from her thought:
she in loue-longing fell,
At length she tucked vp her frocke,
White as the Lilly was her smocke,
she drew the shepheard nie,
But then the shepheard pyp'd a good,
That all his sheepe forsooke their foode,
to heare his melodie.
Thy sheepe quoth she cannot be leane,
That haue a iolly shepheards swayne, 80
the which can pipe so well.
Yea but (sayth he) their shepheard may,
Jf pyping thus he pine away,
in loue of _Dowsabell_.
Of loue fond boy take thou no keepe,
Quoth she, looke well vnto thy sheepe,
lest they should hap to stray.
Quoth he, so had I done full well,
Had I not seene fayre _Dowsabell_,
come forth to gather Maye. 90
With that she gan to vaile her head,
Her cheekes were like the Roses red,
but not a word she sayd.
With that the shepheard gan to frowne,
He threw his pretie pypes adowne,
and on the ground him layd.
Sayth she, I may not stay till night,
And leaue my summer hall vndight,
and all for long of thee.
My Coate sayth he, nor yet my foulde, 100
Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould,
except thou fauour me.
Sayth she yet leuer I were dead,
Then I should lose my maydenhead,
and all for loue of men:
Sayth he yet are you too vnkind,
If in your heart you cannot finde,
to loue vs now and then:
And J to thee will be as kinde,
As _Colin_ was to _Rosalinde_, 110
of curtesie the flower;
Then will I be as true quoth she,
As euer mayden yet might be,
vnto her Paramour:
With that she bent her snowe-white knee,
Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,
and him she sweetely kist.
With that the shepheard whoop'd for ioy,
Quoth he, ther's neuer shepheards boy,
that euer was so blist. 120

[From the Edition of 1605]

_From Eclogue ij_

Then this great Vniuerse no lesse,
Can serue her prayses to expresse:
Betwixt her eies the poles of Loue,
The host of heauenly beautyes moue,
Depainted in their proper stories,
As well the fixd as wandring glories,
Which from their proper orbes not goe,
Whether they gyre swift or slowe:
Where from their lips, when she doth speake,
The musick of those sphears do breake, 10
Which their harmonious motion breedeth:
From whose cheerfull breath proceedeth:
That balmy sweetnes that giues birth
To euery ofspring of the earth.
Her shape and cariage of which frame
In forme how well shee beares the same,
Is that proportion heauens best treasure,
Whereby it doth all poyze and measure,
So that alone her happy sight
Conteynes perfection and delight. 20

_From Eclogue ij_

Vppon a bank with roses set about,
Where pretty turtles ioyning bil to bill,
And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out
Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill:
There little loue sore wounded lyes,
His bowe and arowes broken,
Bedewd with teares from Venus eyes
Oh greeuous to be spoken.

Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye
Where sticks the arrowe that poore hart did kill, 10
With whose sharp pile request him ere he die,
About the same to write his latest will,
And bid him send it backe to mee,
At instant of his dying,
That cruell cruell shee may see
My faith and her denying.

His chappell be a mournefull Cypresse Shade,
And for a chauntry Philomels sweet lay,
Where prayers shall continually be made
By pilgrim louers passing by that way. 20
With Nymphes and shepheards yearly moane
His timeles death beweeping,
In telling that my hart alone
Hath his last will in keeping.

[From the Edition of 1606]

_From Eclogue vij_

Now fye vpon thee wayward loue,
Woe to _Venus_ which did nurse thee,
Heauen and earth thy plagues doe proue,
Gods and men haue cause to curse thee.
What art thou but th' extreamst madnesse,
Natures first and only error
That consum'st our daies in sadnesse,
By the minds Continuall terror:
Walking in Cymerian blindnesse,
In thy courses voy'd of reason. 10
Sharp reproofe thy only kindnesse,
In thy trust the highest treason?
Both the Nymph and ruder swaine,
Vexing with continuall anguish,
Which dost make the ould complaine
And the young to pyne and languishe,
Who thee keepes his care doth nurse,
That seducest all to folly,
Blessing, bitterly doest curse,
Tending to destruction wholly: 20
Thus of thee as I began,
So againe I make an end,
Neither god neither man,
Neither faiery, neither feend.

BATTE.

What is Loue but the desire
Of the thing that fancy pleaseth?
A holy and resistlesse fier,
Weake and strong alike that ceaseth,
Which not heauen hath power to let,
Nor wise nature cannot smother, 30
Whereby _Phoebus_ doth begette
On the vniuersall mother.
That the euerlasting Chaine,
Which together al things tied,
And vnmooued them retayne
And by which they shall abide:
That concent we cleerely find,
All things doth together drawe,
And so strong in euery kinde,
Subiects them to natures law. 40
Whose hie virtue number teaches
In which euery thing dooth mooue,
From the lowest depth that reaches
To the height of heauen aboue:
Harmony that wisely found,
When the cunning hand doth strike
Whereas euery amorous sound,
Sweetly marryes with his like.
The tender cattell scarcely take
From their damm's the feelds to proue, 50
But ech seeketh out a make,
Nothing liues that doth not loue:
Not soe much as but the plant
As nature euery thing doth payre,
By it if the male it want
Doth dislike and will not beare:
Nothing then is like to loue
In the which all creatures be.
From it nere let me remooue
Nor let it remooue from me. 60

_From Eclogue ix_

BATTE.

_Gorbo_, as thou cam'st this waye
By yonder little hill,
Or as thou through the fields didst straye
Sawst thou my _Daffadill_?

Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene
The colour maides delight
And neuer hath her beauty seen
But through a vale of white.

Then Roses richer to behold
That trim vp louers bowers, 10
The Pansy and the Marigould
Tho _Phoebus_ Paramours.

_Gorbo._ Thou well describ'st the Daffadill
It is not full an hower
Since by the spring neare yonder hill
I saw that louely flower.

_Batte._ Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
Nor news of her didst bring,
And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
Then that by yonder spring. 20

_Gorbo._ I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
In yonder field of Lillies,
Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
A wreathe of Daffadillies.

_Batte._ Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
My flower thou didst not see,
For know my pretie _Daffadill_
Is worne of none but me.

To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
No Lilly is so bould, 30
Except to shade her from the heate,
Or keepe her from the colde:

_Gorbo._ Through yonder vale as I did passe,
Descending from the hill,
I met a smerking bony lasse,
They call her _Daffadill_:

Whose presence as along she went,
The prety flowers did greet,
As though their heads they downward bent,
With homage to her feete. 40

And all the shepheards that were nie,
From toppe of euery hill,
Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
There goes sweet _Daffadill_.

_Gorbo._ I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
Thou all my flockes dost fill,
That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
Let vs to _Daffadill_.

_From Eclogue ix_

_Motto._ Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
Who's yonder in the vally set?
_Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
The Lilly, Rose, or violet.

_Motto._ Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
_Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
With gazing on her heauenly eies:

_Motto._ Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
Which somtyme was their chiefe delight, 10
_Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
That liue in presence of her sight:

_Motto._ How com those flowers to florish still,
Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
_Perkin._ She hath robd nature of her skill,
And comforts all things with her breath:

_Motto._ Why slide these brookes so slow away,
As swift as the wild Roe that were,
_Perkin._ O muse not shepheard that they stay,
When they her heauenly voice do heare. 20

_Motto._ From whence com all these goodly swayns
And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
_Perkin._ From gathering garlands on the playnes,
To crowne thy _Siluia_ shepheards queen.

_Motto._ The sun that lights this world below,
Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
_Perkin._ These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
Thy _Syluia_ is as chast, as fayre.

_From Eclogue ix_

_Rowland._ Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
_Chorus._ Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
_Row:_ O she alone the shepheards Queen,
_Cho:_ Her Flocke that leades,
The goddesse of these medes,
These mountaines and these plaines.

_Row:_ Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
_Cho:_ Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
_Row:_ Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
_Cho:_ Fy on that prayse, 10
In striuing things to rayse:
That doth but make them lesse.

_Row:_ That doe the flowery spring prolong,
_Cho:_ So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
_Row:_ And keeps the plenteous summer young:
_Cho:_ And doth asswage
The wrathfull winters rage
That would our flocks destroy.

_Row:_ _Ioue_ saw her brest that naked lay,
_Cho:_ A sight alone was fit for _Ioue_ to see: 20
_Row:_ And swore it was the milkie way,
_Cho:_ Of all most pure,
The path (we vs assure)
Vnto _Ioues_ court to be.

_Row:_ He saw her tresses hanging downe.
_Cho:_ That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
_Row:_ And sayd that _Ariadnes_ crowne,
_Cho:_ With those compar'd:
The gods should not regard
Nor _Berenices_ hayre. 30

_Row:_ When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,
_Cho:_ O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:
_Row:_ They neuer needed _Cynthia's_ light,
_Cho:_ That soone gaue place,
Amazed with her grace,
That did attend thy sheepe.

_Row:_ Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
_Cho:_ When as she shall be placed in the skies,
_Row:_ She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
_Cho:_ And euermore, 40
We shepheards will adore,
Her setting and her rise.

APPENDIX

In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton's; chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends' books. The first song is from _England's Helicon_, and is, I think, too pretty to be lost. Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of which there are doubtless a few still lacking. But I have tried to make the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.

From _England's Helicon_ (1600) p. 97.

Rowlands _Madrigall._

Faire Loue rest thee heere,
Neuer yet was morne so cleere,
Sweete be not vnkinde,
Let me thy fauour finde,
Or else for loue I die.

Harke this pretty bubling spring,
How it makes the Meadowes ring,
Loue now stand my friend,
Heere let all sorrow end,
And I will honour thee. 10

See where little _Cupid_ lyes,
Looking babies in her eyes.
_Cupid_ helpe me now,
Lend to me thy bowe,
To wound her that wounded me.

Heere is none to see or tell,
All our flocks are feeding by,
This Banke with Roses spred,
Oh it is a dainty bed,
Fit for my Loue and me. 20

Harke the birds in yonder Groaue,
How they chaunt vnto my Loue,
Loue be kind to me,
As I haue beene to thee,
For thou hast wonne my hart.

Calme windes blow you faire,
Rock her thou gentle ayre,
O the morne is noone,
The euening comes too soone,
To part my Loue and me. 30

The Roses and thy lips doo meete,
Oh that life were halfe so sweete,
Who would respect his breath,
That might die such a death,
Oh that life thus might die.

All the bushes that be neere,
With sweet Nightingales beset,
Hush sweete and be still,
Let them sing their fill,
There's none our ioyes to let. 40

Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast?
Oh why doo'st thou make such hast?
It is too early yet,
So soone from ioyes to flit
Why art thou so vnkind?

See my little Lambkins runne,
Looke on them till I haue done,
Hast not on the night,
To rob me of her light,
That liue but by her eyes. 50

Alas, sweete Loue, we must depart,
Harke, my dogge begins to barke,
Some bodie's comming neere,
They shall not find vs heere,
For feare of being chid.

Take my Garland and my Gloue,
Weare it for my sake my Loue,
To morrow on the greene,
Thou shalt be our Sheepheards Queene,
Crowned with Roses gay. 60

_Mich. Drayton._

FINIS.

From T. Morley's _First Book of Ballets_ (1595).

Mr. M.D. to the Author.

Such was old _Orpheus_ cunning,
That sencelesse things drew neere him,
And heards of beasts to heare him,
The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,
Morley! but this enchaunting
To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.
And yet thou needst not feare him;
Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,
And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.

Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's _Legend of Humphrey Duke of Gloucester_ (1600).

To his friend, Master _Chr. M._ his Booke.

Like as a man, on some aduenture bound
His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,
T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;
Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,
That if the voyage (happily) be good:
They his good fortune freely may pertake;
If otherwise it perrish in the flood,
Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.
On thy returne I put this little forth,
My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,
Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,
Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;
And if thy fortune prosper, I may see
I haue some share, though most returne to thee.

_Mich. Drayton._

Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; _Holy Roode_ (1609).

_To_ M. IOHN DAVIES, _my good friend_.

_Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,
And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,
As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,
If with the _Muses_ they will haue commerce:
Seldome at _Stawles_, me, this way men rehearse,
To mine _Inferiours_, not unto my _Betters:
_He stales his _Lines_ that so doeth them disperse;
I am so free, I loue not _Golden-fetters_.
And many _Lines_ fore _Writers_, be but Setters
To them which cheate with_ Papers; _which doth pierse,
Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:
To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse
Often (my good _Iohn_; and I loue) thy_ Letters_;
Which lend me Credit, as I lend my _Verse_._

Michael Drayton.

Prefixed to Sir David Murray's _Sophonisba_ &c. (1611).

_To my kinde friend_ Da: Murray.

In new attire (and put most neatly on)
Thou _Murray_ mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
Into a body of delicious ayres:
Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,
But breathing now vpon our colder shore,
Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,
Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,
That what she was, she's euery where the same.

M. DRAYTON.

Among the Panegyrical Verses before Coryat's _Crudities_ (1611).

_Incipit Michael Drayton_.

A briefe Prologue to the verses _following_.

Deare _Tom_, thy booke was like to come to light,
Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to write;
They go before whose wits are at their noones,
_And I come after bringing Salt and Spoones._

Many there be that write before thy Booke,
For whom (except here) who could euer looke?
Thrice happy are all wee that had the Grace
To haue our names set in this liuing place.
Most worthy man, with thee it is euen thus,
As men take _Dottrels_, so hast thou ta'n vs.
Which as a man his arme or leg doth set,
So this fond Bird will likewise counterfeit:
Thou art the Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes
And we are all thy _Zanies_, thy true _Apes_. 10
I saw this age (from what it was at first)
Swolne, and so bigge, that it was like to burst,
Growne so prodigious, so quite out of fashion,
That who will thriue, must hazard his damnation:
Sweating in panges, sent such a horrid mist,
As to dim heauen: I looked for Antichrist
Or some new set of Diuels to sway hell,
Worser then those, that in the _Chaos_ fell:
Wondring what fruit it to the world would bring,
At length it brought forth this: O most strange thing; 20
And with sore throwes, for that the greatest head
Euer is hard'st to be deliuered.
By thee wise _Coryate_ we are taught to know,
Great, with great men which is the way to grow.
For in a new straine thou com'st finely in,
Making thy selfe like those thou mean'st to winne:
Greatnesse to me seem'd euer full of feare,
Which thou found'st false at thy arriuing there,
Of the _Bermudas_, the example such,
Where not a ship vntill this time durst touch; 30
Kep't as suppos'd by hels infernall dogs,
Our Fleet found their most honest wyld courteous hogs.
Liue vertuous _Coryate_, and for euer be
Lik'd of such wise men, as are most like thee.

_Explicit Michael Drayton._

Prefixed to William Browne's _Britannia's Pastorals_ (1613).

To his Friend the AVTHOR.

Driue forth thy Flocke, young Pastor, to that Plaine,
Where our old Shepheards wont their flocks to feed;
To those cleare walkes, where many a skilfull Swaine
To'ards the calme eu'ning, tun'd his pleasant Reede,
Those, to the _Muses_ once so sacred, Downes,
As no rude foote might there presume to stand:
(Now made the way of the vnworthiest Clownes,
Dig'd and plow'd vp with each vnhallowed hand)
If possible thou canst, redeeme those places,
Where, by the brim of many a siluer Spring, 10
The learned Maydens, and delightfull Graces
Often haue sate to heare our Shepheards sing:
Where on those _Pines_ the neighb'ring Groues among,
(Now vtterly neglected in these dayes)
Our Garlands, Pipes, and Cornamutes were hong
The monuments of our deserued praise.
So may thy Sheepe like, so thy Lambes increase,
And from the Wolfe feede euer safe and free!
So maist thou thriue, among the learned prease,
As thou young Shepheard art belou'd of mee! 20

Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's _Georgics_ (1618).

To my worthy friend Mr. _George Chapman_, and his translated _Hesiod_.

_Chapman_; We finde by thy past-prized fraught,
What wealth thou dost vpon this Land conferre;
Th'olde _Grecian_ Prophets hither that hast brought,
Of their full words the true interpreter:
And by thy trauell, strongly hast exprest
The large dimensions of the English tongue;
Deliuering them so well, the first and best,
That to the world in Numbers euer sung.
Thou hast vnlock'd the treasury, wherein
All Art, and knowledge haue so long been hidden: 10
Which, till the gracefull Muses did begin
Here to inhabite, was to vs forbidden.
In blest _Elizivm_ (in a place most fit)
Vnder that tree due to the _Delphian_ God,
_Musaeus_, and that _Iliad Singer_ sit,
And neare to them that noble _Hesiod_,
Smoothing their rugged foreheads; and do smile,
After so many hundred yeares to see
Their Poems read in this farre westerne Ile,
Translated from their ancient Greeke, by thee; 20
Each his good _Genius_ whispering in his eare,
That with so lucky, and auspicious fate
Did still attend them, whilst they liuing were,
And gaue their Verses such a lasting date.
Where slightly passing by the _Thespian_ spring,
Many long after did but onely sup;
Nature, then fruitfull, forth these men did bring,
To fetch deep Rowses from _Ioues_ plentious cup.
In thy free labours (friend) then rest content,
Feare not _Detraction_, neither fawne on _Praise_: 30
When idle _Censure_ all her force hath spent,
_Knowledge_ can crowne her self with her owne Baies.
Their Lines, that haue so many liues outworne,
Cleerely expounded shall base Enuy scorne.

_Michael Drayton._

Prefixed to Book ij. of _Primaleon_, &c. Translated by Anthony Munday (1619).

_OF THE WORKE_ _and Translation._

_If in opinion of iudiciall wit,_
Primaleons_ sweet Invention well deserue:
Then he (no lesse) which hath translated it,
Which doth his sense, his forme, his phrase, obserue.
And in true method of his home-borne stile,
(Following the fashion of a French conceate)
Hath brought him heere into this famous Ile,
Where but a stranger, now hath made his seate.
He liues a Prince, and comming in this sort,
Shall to his Countrey of your fame report._

M.D.

From _Annalia Dubrensia_ (1636).

TO MY NOBLE Friend Mr. ROBERT DOVER, on his braue annuall _Assemblies_ vpon _Cotswold_.

Douer, to doe thee Right, who will not striue,
That dost in these dull yron Times reuiue
The golden Ages glories; which poore Wee
Had not so much as dream't on but for Thee?
As those braue _Grecians_ in their happy dayes,
On Mount Olympus to their _Hercules_
Ordain'd their games Olimpick, and so nam'd
Of that great Mountaine; for those pastimes fam'd:
Where then their able Youth, Leapt, Wrestled, Ran,
Threw the arm'd Dart; and honour'd was the _Man_ 10
That was the Victor; In the Circute there
The nimble Rider, and skill'd Chariotere
Stroue for the Garland; In those noble Times
There to their Harpes the Poets sang their Rimes;
That whilst _Greece_ flourisht, and was onely then
Nurse of all Arts, and of all famous men:
Numbring their yeers, still their accounts they made,
Either from this or that _Olimpiade_.
So _Douer_, from these _Games_, by thee begun,
Wee'l reckon Ours, as time away doth run. 20
Wee'l haue thy Statue in some Rocke cut out,
With braue Inscriptions garnished about;
And vnder written, _Loe, this was the man,_
DOVER, _that first these noble Sports began._
Ladds of the Hills, and Lasses of the Vale,
In many a song, and many a merry Tale
Shall mention Thee; and hauing leaue to play,
Vnto thy name shall make a Holy day.
The _Cosswold_ Shepheards as their flockes they keepe,
To put off lazie drowsinesse and sleepe, 30
Shall sit to tell, and heare thy Story tould,
That night shall come ere they their flocks can fould.

_Michaell Drayton._

NOTES

These notes are not intended to supply materials for the criticism of the text. So freely, indeed, did Drayton alter his poems for a fresh edition, that the ordinary machinery of an _apparatus criticus_ would be overtasked if the attempt were made. All that has been undertaken here is to provide the requisite information in places where the text followed seemed open to suspicion.

It may be added that the punctuation of the originals has in general been preserved; in a few flagrant instances, where the text as it stood was misleading, it has been modified. Such changes are not noted here.

2, 1, l. 14 vertues] vertuous 1619

3, 3, l. 1 Ioue] loue 1599, 1602, 1605

l. 3 them forth,] them, forth 1599. _But the 1619 version
supports the reading in the text._

5, 8, l. 8 men] ones 1599: women 1619

l. 9 to 1599, 1619: of 1594

6, 9, l. 11 in] on 1602

10, l. 12 her] his 1602: their 1619

8, 14, l. 14 anatomize 1599. _But there is ground for believing
that_ anotamize _represents a current
pronunciation._

9, 15, l. 10 She'st] ? She'll

10, 17, l. 9 Were] Where 1594

18, l. 5 Elizia] Elizium 1599

11, 20, l. 10 whir-poole] whirl-poole 1602

l. 12 Helycon] Helicon 1602

14, 26, l. 5 Thy 1599 etc.: The 1594

15, 27, l. 4 Thus] This 1594

l. 12 depriued] ? depraued

18, 33, l. 3 Wishing] Wisheth 1599

19, 36, l. 13 And others] And eithers 1599

20, 37, l. 4 euer-certaine] neuer-certaine 1602

28, 1, l. 4 song] sung 1613

31, 10, l. 2 bids] bad 1619

l. 12 my ... his] his ... my 1619

37, 30, l. 14 hollowed] halowed 1605: hallow'd 1619. _But cf._ 94,
l. 18.

38, 43, l. 3 Wherein 1602, 1605: Where, in 1619: Wherein 1599

39, 44, l. 4 Paynting] Panting 1608

l. 8 Wherein 1602, 1605, 1619: Where in 1599

40, 55, l. 7 forces heere,] forces, here 1619

56, _heading_ A Consonet] A Cansonet 1602

41, 57, l. 13 yet] then 1595

42, 17, ll. 4, 13 Promethius] Prometheus 1605

43, 27, l. 2 Who can he loue? 1608: Who? can he loue: 1619

l. 12 They resolute,] They resolute? 1608, 1619

44, 31, l. 4 appose] oppose 1608, 1619

l. 9 They 1619: The 1602, 1605, 1608

48, 47, l. 8 a 1619: and 1605, 1608

49, 51, l. 1 to 1608: _omitted in_ 1605

53, 21, l. 11 soe] ? loe

l. 13 Troth] Froth 1619

71, l. 16 scowles] scoulds 1606

l. 37 whome 1606: whose 1619

l. 41 rage 1606: age 1619

74, l. 25 he 1619: shee 1606

77, l. 34 some few 1606: some, few 1619

79, l. 10 their] ? there.

83, l. 72 Stuck] _The emendation_ Struck _is tempting (the form
is somewhat uncommon but not unparalleled);
especially in view of_ l. 80.

94, l. 18 hollow'd] _cf._ 37, 30, l. 14

96, l. 120 the] _no doubt a printer's error for_ they

97, l. 125 be lowe] belowe 1627

97, l. 126 whether] whethet 1627

98, l. 37 it] _omitted in_ 1627

101, l. 62 be] ? been

104, l. 88 him] ? them

l. 94 ceaze 1620: lease 1627

106, l. 37 his] _omitted in_ 1631

l. 56 warnd] warne 1627

110, l. 105 Neat] Next _conj. Beeching_

118, _heading_ Chaplaine] Chapliane 1627

120, l. 81 extirpe 1631: extipe 1627

146, l. 90 fett] sett _and_ frett _have been conjectured._

153, l. 92 debate] delate 1627

154, l. 115 claue] ? cleaue

156, l. 220 euery] euer 1627

174, l. 225 wither] whither 1630

177, l. 343 rawe] taw 1748

192, l. 18 there] they 1630

232, l. 12 vnto] vp to 1619

233, l. 53 fame] faire 1606

234, l. 66 moue] mock 1606

238, l. 25 feature] features 1619

240, l. 99 long] loue 1606

242, _Ecl. ij,_ l. 21 moane 1600: moans 1605

243, l. 55 But it if the Male doth want 1619

244, l. 37 along she went 1619: she went along 1606

245, l. 43 lowe] loud 1600, 1619

247, l. 37 glories 1619: glorious 1606

ERRATA

Page 94, l. 5 _for_ of said _read_ said

" 173, l. 170 _for_ you _read_ your

Oxford Printed at the Clarendon Press By Horace Hart, M.A. Printer to the University

End of Project Gutenberg's Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, by Michael Drayton