harbours so vaine a thought Truly to loue could neuer yet be brought Then loue that heart where lies no faithlesse â—eed That neuer wore dissimulations weed Who doth account all beauties of the Spring That iocund Summer-daies are vshering As foiles to yours But if this cannot moue Your minde to pittie nor your heart to loue Yet sweetest grant me loue to quench that flame Which burnes you now Expell his worthlesse name Cleane root him out by me and in his place Let him inhabit that will runne a race More true in loue It may be for your rest And when he sees her who did loue him best Possessed by another he will rate The much of good he lost when 't is too late For what is in our powers we little deeme And things possest by others best esteeme If all this gaine you not a Shepherds wife Yet giue not death to him which gaue you life Marine the faire hearing his wooing tale Perceiued well what wall his thoughts did scale And answer'd thus I pray sir Swaine what boot Is it â—o me to plucke vp by the root My former loue and in his place to sow As ill a seed for any thing I know Rather gainst thee I mortall hate retaine That seek'st to plant in me new cares new paine Alas th' hast kept my soule from deaths sweet bands To giue me ouer to a Tyrants hands Who on his racks will torture by his power This weakned harmelesse body euery howre Be you the Iudge and see if reasons lawes Giue recompence of fauour for this cause You from the streames of death brought life on shore Releas'd one paine to giue me ten times more For loues sake let my thoughts in this be free Obiect no more your haplesse sauing mee That Obligation which you thinke should binde Doth still increase more hatred in my minde Yea I doe thinke more thankes to him were due That would bereaue my life than vnto you The Thunder-stroken Swaine lean'd to a tree As void of sense as weeping Niobe Making his teares the instruments to wooe her The Sea wherein his loue should swimme vnto her And could there flow from his two-headed font As great a floud as is the Hellespont Within that deepe he would as willing wander To meet his Hero as did ere Leander Meane while the Nymph with-drew her selfe aside And to a Groue at hand her steps applide With that sad sigh O I had he neuer seene His heart in better case had euer beene Against his heart against the streame he went With this resolue and with a full intent When of that streame he had discouered The fount the well-spring or the bubling head He there would sit and with the Well drop vie That it before his eies would first runne drie But then he thought the god that haunts that Lake The spoiling of his Spring would not well take And therefore leauing soone the Crystall flood Did take his way vnto the neerest Wood Seating himselfe within a darksome Caue Such places heauie Saturnists doe craue Where yet the gladsome day was neuer seene Nor Phoebus piercing beames had euer beene Fit for the Synode house of those fell Legions That walke the Mountaines and Siluanus regions Where Tragedie might haue her full scope giuen From men aspects and from the view of heauen Within the same some erannies did deliuer Into the midst thereof a pretty Riuer The Nymph whereof came by out of the veines Of our first mother hauing late â—ane paines In scouring of her channell all the way From where it first began to leaue the Sea And in her labour thus farre now had gone When coÌ„ming through the Caue she heard that one Spake thus If I doe in my death perseuer Pittie â—ay that effect which Love could neuer By this she can coniecture 't was some Swaine Who ouerladen by a Maids disdaine Had here as fittest chosen out a place Where he might giue a period to the race Of his loath'd life which she for pitties sake Minding to hinder diu'd into her Lake And hastned where the euer-reeming Earth Vnto her Current giues a wished birth And by her new-deliuered Riuers side Vpon a Banke of flow'rs had soone espide Remond young Remond that full well could sing And tune his Pipe at Pans-birth carolling Who for his nimble leaping sweetest layes A Lawrell garland wore on Holy-dayes In â—raming of whose hand Dame Nature swore There neuer was his like nor should be more Whose locks in snaring nets were like the rayes Wherewith the Sunne doth diaper the Seas Which if they had beene cut and hung vpon The snow-white Cliffes of fertile Albion Would haue allured more to be their winner Then all the Diamonds that are hidden in her Him she accosted thus Swaine of the Wreathe Thou art not placed onely here to breathe But Nature in thy framing shewes to mee Thou shouldst to others as she did to thee Doe good and surely I my selfe perswade Thou neuer wert for euill action made In heauens Consistory 't was decreed That choysest fruit should come from choysest seed In baser vessels we doe euer put Basest materials doe neuer shut Those Iewels most in estimation set But in some curious costly Cabinet If I may iudge by th' outward shape alone Within all vertues haue conuention For 't giues most lustre vnto Vertues feature When she appeares cloth'd in a goodly creature Halfe way the hill neere to those aged trees Whose insides are as Hiues for labring Bees As who should say before their roots were dead For good workes sake and almes they harboured Those whom nought else did couer but the Skies A path vntroden but of Beasts there lies Dâ—recting to a Caue in yonder glade Where all this Forrests Citizens for shade At noone-time come and are the first I thinke That running through that Caue my waters drinke Within this Rocke there sits a wofull wight As void of comfort as that Caue of light And as I wot occasion'd by the frownes Oâ— some coy Shepheardesse that haunts these Downes This I doe know whos'euer wrought his care He is a man nye treading to despaire Then hie thee thither since 't is charitie To saue a man leaue here thy flocke with me For whilst thou sau'st him from the Stygian Bay I le keepe thy Lambkins from all beasts of prey The neernesse of the danger in his thought As it doth euer more compassion wrought So that with reuerence to the Nymph he went With winged speed and hast'ned to preuent Th' vntimely seisure of the greedy graue Breathlesse at last he came into the Caue Where by a sigh directed to the man To comfort him he in this sort began Shepheard all haile what meane these plaints this Caue Th' image of death true portrait of the graue Why dost frequent and waile thee vnder ground From whence there neuer yet was pitty found Come forth and shew thy selfe vnto the light Thy griefe to me If there be ought that might Giue
produceth and brings forth And therefore well considering The nature of it in each thing As when the teeming earth doth grow So hard that none can plow nor â—ow Her breast it doth so mollifie That it not onely comes to be More easie for the share and Oxe But that in Haruest times the shocks Of Ceres hanging eared corne Doth fill the Houell and the Barne To Trees and Plants I comfort giue By me they fructifie and liue For first ascending from beneath Into the Skie with liuely breath I thence am furnish'd and bestow The same on Herbs that are below So that by this each one may see I cause them spring and multiply Who seeth this can doe no lesse Then of his owne accord confesse That notwithstanding all the strength The earth enioyes in breadth and length She is beholding to each streame And hath receiued all from them Her loue to him she then must giue By whom her selfe doth chiefly liue This being spoken by this waters God He straight-way in his hand did take his rod And stroke it on his banke wherewith the flood Did such a roaring make within the wood That straight the Nymph who then sate on her shore Knew there was somewhat to be 〈…〉 And therefore hasting to her Brothers Spring She spide what caus'd the waters ecchoing Saw where faire Marine fast asleepe did lie Whilst that the God still viewing her sate by Who when he saw his Sister Nymph draw neare He thus gan tune his voice vnto her eare My fairest Sister for we come Both from the swelling Tâ—eâ—is wombe The reason why of late I strooke My ruling wand vpon my Brooke Was for this purpose Late this Maid Which on my banke asleepe is laid Was by her selfe or other wight Cast in my spring and did affright With her late fall the fish that take Their chiefest pleasure in my Lake Of all the Fry within my deepe None durst out of their dwellings peepe The Trout within the weeds did sâ—â—d The Eele him hid within the mud Yea from this feare I was not free For as I musing sate to see How that the prettie Pibbles round Came with my Spring from vnder ground And how the waters issuing Did make them dance about my Spring The noise thereof did me appall That starting vpward therewithall I in my armes her bodie caught And both to light and life her brought Then cast her in a sleepe you see But Brother to the cause quoth she Why by your raging waters wilde Am I here called â— Thetis childe Replide the God for thee I sent That when her time of sleepe is spent I may commit her to thy gage Since women best know womens rage Meane while faire Nymph accompanie My Spring with thy sweet harmonie And we will make her soule to take Some pleasure which is said to wake Although the body hath his rest She gaue consent and each of them addrest Vnto their part The watrie Nymph did sing In manner of a prettie questioning The God made answer to what she propounded Whilst from the Spring a pleasant musicke sounded Making each shrub in silence to adore them Taking their subiect from what lay before them Nymph WHat 's that compact of earth infus'd with aire A â—ertâ—ine made full with vncertainties Sway'd by the motion of each seuerall Spheare Who 's 〈◊〉 with nought but infelicities Endures nor heat nor cold is like a Swan That this houre sings next dies God It is a Man Nymph What 's be borne to be sicke so alwaies dying That 's guided by ineuitable Fate That comes in weeping and that goes out crying Whose Kalender of woes is still in date Whose life 's a bubble 〈◊〉 length a span A consorâ— still in discorded God T is a man Nymph What 's hee whose thoughts are still â—uell'd in th' euent Though 〈◊〉 for lawfull by an opposite Hath all things fleeting nothing permanent And at 〈…〉 weares still a Parasite Hath friends in wealth or wealthie friends who caâ— In want proue meere illusions God T is a Man Nymph What 's he that what he is not striues to seemâ— Thus 〈◊〉 support an Atlas weight of care That of an outward good doth best esteeme And looketh not within how solid they are That doth not vertuous but the 〈…〉 Learning and worth by wealth God It is â— Man Nymph What 's that possessor which of good makes had And what is worst makes choice still for the best That grieueth most to thinke of what he had And of his chiefest lâ—sse accounteth 〈◊〉 That doth not what he ought but what he can Whos 's fancio's euer boundlesse God T is a man Nymph But what is it wherein Dame Nature wrought The best of works the onely frame of Heauen And hauing long to finde a present sought Wherein the worlds whole beautie might be giuen She did resolue in it all arts to summon To ioine with Natures framing God T is this Woman Nymph If beautie be a thing to be admired And if admiring draw to it affection And what we doe affect is most desired What wight is he to loue denies subiection And can his thoughts within himselfe confine Marine that waking lay said Celandine He is the man that hates which some admire He is the wight that loathes whom most desire 'T is onely he to loue denies subiecting And but himselfe thinkes none is worth affecting Vnhappy me the while accurst my Fate That Nature giues no loue where she gaue hate The watrie Rulers then perceiued plaine Nipt with the Winter of loues frost Disdaine This Non-par-el of beautie had beene led To doe an act which Enuie pitied Therefore in pitie did conferre together What Physicke best might cure this burning Feuer At last found out that in a Groue below Where shadowing Sicamours past number grow A Fountaine takes his iourney to the Maine Whose liquors nature was so soueraigne Like to the wondrous Well and famous Spring Which in Boetia hath his issuing That whoso of it doth but onely taste All former memorie from him doth waste Not changing any other worke of Nature But doth endow the drinker with a feature More louely faire Medea tooke from hence Some of this water by whose quintessence Aeson from age came backe to youth This knowne The God thus spake Nymph be thine owne And after mine This Goddesse here For shee s no lesse will bring thee where Thou shalt acknowledge Springs haue doe As much for thee as any one Which ended and thou gotten free If thou wilt come and liue with me No Shepherds daughter nor his wife Shall boast them of a better life Meane while I leaue thy thoughts at large Thy body to my sisters charge Whilst I into my Spring doe diue To see that they doe not depriue The Meadowes neere which much doe thirst Thus heated by the Sunne May first Quoth Marine Swaines giue Lambs to thee And may thy Floud haue seignorie Of all Flouds else and to thy
leaues vp bound â—nd she directed how to cure the wound â—ith thanks made home-wards longing still to see â—h'effect of this good Hermits Surgerie â—here carefully her sonne laid on a bed Enriched with the bloud he on it shed â—e washes dresses bindes his wound yet sore â—hat grieu'd it could weepe bloud for him no more Now had the glorious Sunneâ—ane â—ane vp his Iune And all the lamps of heau'n inlightned bin â—ithin the gloomy shades of some thicke Spring â—â—d Philomel gan on the Haw-thorne sing Whâ—lst euery beast at rest was lowly laid â—he outrage done vpon a silly Maid â—â—l things were husht each bird slept on his bough â—â—d night gaue rest to him day tyr'd at plough Each beast each bird and each day-toyling wight Receiu'd the comfort of the silent night Free from the gripes of sorrow euery one Except poore Philomel and Doridon She on a Thorne sings sweet though sighing strain He on a couch more soft more sad complaines Whole in-penâ— thoughts him long time hauing paâ— He sighing wept weeping thus complained Sweet Philomela then he heard her sing I doe not enuy thy sweet carolling But doe admire thee that each euen and morrow Canst carelesly thus sing away thy sorrow Would I could doe so too â— and euer be In all my woes still imitating thee But I may not attaine to that for then Such most vnhappy miserable men Would 〈◊〉 with Heauen and imitate the Sunnâ— Whose golden beames in exhalation Though drawn from Fens or other grounds impâ— Turne all to fructifying nouriture When we draw nothing by our Sun like eyes That euer turnes to mirth but miseries Would I had neuer seene except that â—he Who made me wish so loue to looke on me Had Colin Clout yet 〈◊〉 but he is gone That best on earth could tune a louers mone Whose sadder Tones inforc'd the Rocks to weepe And laid the greatest griefes in quiet sleepe Who when he sung as I would doe to mine His truest loues to his faire Rosalâ—ne â—ntiâ—'d each Shepherds eare to heare him play â—nd rapt with wonder thus admiring say Thrice happy plaines if plaines thrice happy may be Where such a Shepherd pipes to such a Lady Who made the Lasses long to sit downe neere him And woo'd the Riuers froÌ„ their Springs to heare him Heauen rest thy Soule if so a Swaine may pray And as thy workes liue here liue there for aye Meane while vnhappy I shall still complaine Loues cruell wounding of a seely Swaine Two nights thus past the Lilly-handed Morne Saw Phoebus stealing dewe from Ceres Corne. The mounting Larke daies herauld got on wing Bidding each bird chuse out his bough and sing The lofty Treble sung the little Wren Robin the Meane that best of all loues men The Nightingale the Tenor and the Thrush The Counter-tenor sweetly in a bush And that the Musicke might be full in parts Birds from the groues flew with right willing hearts But as it seem'd they thought as doe the Swaines Which tune their Pipes on sack'd Hibernia's plaines There should some droaning part be therefore will'd Some bird to flie into a neighb'ring field In Embassie vnto the King of Bees To aid his partners on the flowres and trees Who condiscending gladly flew along To beare the Base to his well-tuned song Thâ— Crow was willing they should be beholding For his deepe voyce but being hoarse with skolding He thus lends aide vpon an Oake doth climbe And nodding with his head so keepeth time O true delight enharboring the brests Of those sweet creatures with the plumy crests Had Nature vnto man such simplesse giuen He would like Birds befarre more neere to heauen But Doridon well knew who knowes no lesse Mans compounds haue o'er thrown his simplenesse Noone-tide the Morne had wood and she gan yeeld When Doridon made ready for the field Goes sadly forth a wofull Shepherds Lad Drowned in teares his minde with griefe yclad To ope his fold and let his Lamkins out Full iolly flocke they seem'd a well fleec'd rout Which gently walk'd before he sadly pacing Both guides and followes them towards their grazing When from a Groue the Wood-Nymphs held full deare Two heauenly voyces did intreat his eare And did compell his longing eyes to see What happy wight enioy'd such harmonie Which ioyned with fiue more and so made seauen Would parallel in mirth the Spheares of heauen To haue a sight at first he would not presse For feare to interrupt such happinesse But kept aloofe the thicke growne shrubs among Yet so as he might heare this wooing Song F. FIe Shepherds Swaine why sitst thou all alone Whil'st other Lads are sporting on the leyes R. Ioy may haue company but Griefe hath none Where pleasure neuer came sports cannot please F. Yet may you please to grace our this daies sport Though not an actor yet a looker on R. A looker on indeede so Swaines of sort Cast low take ioy to looke whence they are thrown F. Seeke ioy and finde it R. Griefe doth not minde it BOTH Then both agree in one Sorrow doth hate To haue a mate True griefe is still alone F. Sad Swaine areade if that a Maid may aske What cause so great effects of griefe hath wrought R. Alas Loue is not hid it weares no maske To view 't is by the face conceiu'd and brought F. The cause I grant the causer is not learned Your speech I doe entreat about this taske R. If that my heart were seene 't would be discerned And Fida's name found grauen on the caske F. Hath Loue young Remond moued R. 'T is Fida that is loued BOTH Although 't is said that no men Will with their hearts Or goods chiefe parts Trust either Seas or Women F. How may a Maiden be assur'd of loue Since falshood late in euerie Swaine excelleth R. When protestations faile time may approue Where true affection liues where falshood dwelleth F. The truest cause elects a Iudge as true Fie how my sighing my much louing telleth R. Your loue is fixt in one whose heart to you Shall be as constancy which ne'er rebelleth F. None other shall haue grace R. None else in my heart place BOTH Goe Shepherds Swaines and wiue all For Loue and Kings Are two like things Admitting no Corriuall As when some Malefactor iudg'd to die For his offence his Execution nye Casteâ—h his sight on states vnlike to his And weighs his ill by others happinesse So Doridon thought euery stare to be Further from him more neere felicitie O blessed sight where such concordance meets Where truth with truth and loue with liking greets Had quoth the Swain the Fates giuen me some measure Of true delights inestimable treasure I had beene fortunate but now so weake My bankrupt heart will be inforc'd to breake Sweet Loue that drawes on earth a yoake so euen Sweet life that imitates the blisse of heauen Sweet death they needs must haue who so vnite That two distinct make one Hermaphrodite Sweâ—t
a period to his Lay When from a Wood wherein the Eye of day Had long a stranger beene and Phoebe's light Vainly contended with the shades of night One of those wanton Nymphs that woo'd him late Came crying tow'rds him O thou most ingrate Respectlesse Flood canst thou here idely sit And loose desires to looser numbers fit Teaching the ayre to court thy carelesse Brooke Whil'ft thy poore Walla's cries the hils haue shooke With an amazed terror heare ô heare A hundred Eccho's shriking euerie where See how the frightfull Heards run from the Wood Walla alas as she to crowne her Flood Attended the composure of sweet flowres Was by a lust-fir'd Satyre 'mong our bowres Well-neere surpriz'd but that she him discride Before his rude imbracement could betide Now but her feet no helpe vnlesse her cries A needfull aid draw from the Deities It needlesse was to bid the Flood pursue Anger gaue wings waies that he neuer knew Till now he treads through dels and hidden brakes Flies through the Meadows each where ouertakes Streames swiftly gliding and them brings along To further iust reuenge for so great wrong His current till that day was neuer knowne But as a Meade in Iuly which vnmowne Beares in an equall height each bent and stem Vnlesse some gentle gale doe play with them Now runs it with such fury and such rage That mightie Rocks opposing vassalage Are from the firme earth rent and ouer-borne In Fords where pibbles lay secure beforne Low'd Cataracts and fearefull roarings now Affright the Passenger vpon his brow Continuall bubbles like compelled drops And where as now and then he makes short stops In little pooles drowning his voice too hie 'T is where hethinkes he heares his Walla cry Yet vaine was all his haste bending a way Too much declining to the Southerne Sea Since she had turned thence and now begun To crosse the braue path of the glorious Sun There lyes a Vale extended to the North Of Tauy's streame which prodigall sends forth In Autumne more rare fruits then haue beene spent In any greater plot of fruitfull Kent Two high brow'd rocks on either side begin As with an arâ—h to close the valley in Vpon their rugged fronts short writhen Oakes Vntouch'd of any fellers banefull stroakes The Iuy twisting round their barkes hath fed Past time wilde Goates which no man followed Low in the Valley some small Heards of Deere For head and footmanship withouten peere Fed vndisturb'd The Swaines that thereby thriu'd By the tradition from their Sires deriu'd Call'd it sweet Ina's Coombe but whether she Were of the earth or greater progeny Iudge by her deedes once this is truely knowne She many a time hath on a Bugle blowne And through the Dale pursu'd the iolly Chase As she had bid the winged windes a base Pale and distracted hither Walla runs As closely follow'd as she hardly shuns Her mantle off her haire now too vnkinde Almost betrai'd her with the wanton winde Breathlesse and faint she now some drops discloses As in a Limbeck the kinde sweat of Roses Such hang vpon her brest and on her cheekes Or like the Pearles which the tand Aethiop seekes The Satyre spur'd with lust still getteth ground And longs to see his damn'd intention crown'd As when a Greyhound of the rightest straine Let slip to some poore Hare vpon the plaine He for his prey striues th' other for her life And one of these or none must end the strife Now seemes the Dog by speed and good at bearing To haue her sure the other euer fearing Maketh a sodaine turne and doth deferre The Hound a while from so neere reaching her Yet being fetcht againe and almost tane Doubting since touch'd of him she scapes her bane So of these two the minded races were For Hope the one made swift the other Feare O if there be a powre quoth Walla then Keeping her earnest course o'reswaying men And their desires ô let it now be showne Vpon this Satyre halfe-part earthly knowne What I haue hitherto with so much care Kept vndefiled spotlesse white and faire What in all speech of loue I still reseru'd And from it's hazard euer gladly sweru'd O be it now vntouch'd and may no force That happy Iewell from my selfe deuorce I that haue euer held all women be Void of all worth if wanting chastitie And who so any lets that best flowre pull She might be faire but neuer beautifull O let me not forgoe it strike me dead Let on these Rocks my limbs be scattered Burne me to ashes with some powrefull flame And in mine owne dust bury mine owne name Rather then let me liue and be defil'd Chastest Diana in the Deserts wilde Haue I so long thy truest handmaid beene Vpon the rough rocke-ground thine arroweâ— keene Haue I to make thee crownes beene gath'ring still Faire-cheekt Etesia's yealow Cammomill And sitting by thee on our flowrie beds Knit thy torne Buck-stals with well twisted threds To be forsaken O now present be If not to saue yet helpe to ruine me If pure Virginitie haue heretofore By the Olympicke powres beene honour'd more Then other states and Gods haue beene dispos'd To make them knowne to vs and still disclos'd To the chaste hearing of such Nymphs as we Many a secret and deepe misterie If none can lead without celestiall aid Th' immaculate and pure life of a Maid O let not then the Powres all-good diuine Permit vile lust to soile this brest of mine Thus cride she as she ran and looking backe Whether her hot pursuer did ought slacke His former speed she spies him not at all And somewhat thereby cheer'd gan to recall Her nye fled hopes yet fearing he might lye Neere some crosse path to worke his villanie And being weary knowing it was vaine To hope for safety by her feet againe She sought about where she her selfe might hide A hollow vaulted Rocke at last she spide About whose sides so many bushes were She thought securely she might rest her there Farre vnder it a Caue whose entrance streight Clos'd with a stone-wrought dore of no mean weight Yet from it selfe the gemels beaten so That little strength could thrust it to and fro Thither she came and being gotten in Barr'd fast the darke Caue with an iron pin The Satyre follow'd for his cause of stay Was not a minde to leaue her but the way Sharpe ston'd and thornie where he pass'd of late Had cut his clouen foot and now his gate Was not so speedy yet by chance he sees Through some small glade that ran between the trees Where Walla went And with a slower pace Fir'd with hot blood at last attain'd the place When like a fearefull Hare within her Forme Hearing the Hounds come like a threatning storme In full cry on the walke where last she trode Doubts to stay there yet dreads to goe abroad So Walla far'd But since he was come nie And by an able strength and industry Sought to breake in with teares anew
against all throes of Fate would stand Acknowledge it his deed and so afford A passage to his heart for Iustice sword Rather then by her losse the world should be Despiz'd and scorn'd for loosing such as she Now with a vow of secrecy from both Inforcing mirth he with them homewards go'th And by the time the shades of mighty woods Began to turne them to the Easterne Floods They thither got where with vndaunted heart He welcomes both and freely doth impart Such dainties as a Shepherds cottage yeeldâ— Tane from the fruitfull woods and fertile fields No way distracted nor disturb'd at all And to preuent what likely might befall His truest Caelia in his apprehending Thus to all future care gaue finall ending Into their cup wherein for such sweet Girles Nature would Myriades of richest Pearles Dissolue and by her powrefull simples striue To keepe them still on earth and still aliue Our Swaine infus'd a powder which they dranke And to a pleasant roome set on a banke Neere to his Coaâ— where he did often vse At vacant houres to entertaine his Muse. Brought them and seated on a curious bed Till what he gaue in operation sped And rob'd them of his sight and him of theirs Whose new inlightning will be quench'd with teares The Glasse of Time had well nye spent the Sand It had to run ere with impartiall hand Iustice must to her vpright Ballance take him Which he afraid it might too soone forsake him Began to vse as quickly as perceiue And of his Loue thus tooke his latest leaue Caelia thou fairest creature euer eye Beheld or yet put on mortalitie Caelia that hast but iust so much of earth As makes thee capable of death Thou birth Of euery Vertue life of euery good Whose chastest sports and daily taking food Is imitation of the highest powres Who to the earth lend seasonable showres That it may beare we to their Altars bring Things worthy their accept our offering I the most wretched creature euer eye Beheld or yet put on mortalitie Vnhappy Philocel that haue of earth Too much to giue my sorrowes endlesse birth The spring of sad misfortunes in whom lyes No blisse that with thy worth can sympathize Clouded with woe that hence will neuer flit Till death eternall night grow one with it I as a dying Swan that sadly sings Her moanfull Dirge vnto the siluer springs Which carelesse of her Song glide sleeping by Without one murmure of kinde Elegie Now stand by thee and as a Turtles maâ—e With lamentations inarticulate The neere departure from her loue bemones Spend these my bootlesse sighes and â—illing grones Here as a man by Iustice doome exilde To Coasts vnknowne to Desarts rough and wilde Stand I to take my latest leaue of thee Whose happy and heauen-making company Might I enioy in Libia's Continent Were blest fruition and not banishment First of those Eyes that haue already tane Their leaue of me Lamps fitting for the Phane Of heauens most powre which might ne're expire But be as sacred as the Vestall fire Then of those plots where halfe-Ros'd Lillies be Not one by Art but Natures industry From which I goe as one excluded from The taintlesse flowres of blest Elixium Next from those Lips I part and may there be No one that shall hereafter second me Guiltlesse of any kisses but their owne Their sweets but to themselues to all vnknowne For should our Swaines diuulge what sweeâ—â— there be Within the Sea-clipt bounds of Britanie We should not from inuasions be exempted But with that prize would all the world be tempted Then from her heart ô no! let that be neuer For if I part from hence I dye for euer Be that the Record of my loue and name Be that to me as is the Phoenix flame Creating still anew what Iustice doome Must yeeld to dust and a forgotten toombe Let thy chaste loue to me as shadowes run In full extent vnto the setting Sun Meet with my fall and when that I am gone Backe to thy selfe retyre and there grow one If to a second light thy shadow be Let him still haue his ray of loue from me And if as I that likewise doe decline Be mine or his or else be his and mine But know no other nor againe be sped She dyes a virgin that but knowes one bed And now from all at once my leaue I take With this petition that when thou shalt wake My teares already spent may serue for thine And all thy sorrowes be excus'd by mine â—ea rather then my losse should draw on hers Heare Heauen the suit which my sad soule prefers Let this her slumber like Obliuions streame Make her beleeue our loue was but a dreame Let me be dead in her as to the earth Ere Nature loose the grace of such a birth Sleepe thou sweet soule from all disquiet free And since I now beguile thy destinie Let after patience in thy brest arise To giue his name a life who for thee dies He dyes for thee that worthy is to dye Since now in leauing that sweet harmonie Which Nature wrought in thee he drawes not to him Enough of sorrow that might streight vndoe him And haue for meanes of death his parting hence So keeping Iustice still in Innocence Here staid his tongue and teares anew began Parting knowes more of griefe then absence can And with a backward pace and lingring eye Left and for euer left their company By this the curs'd Informer of the deede With wings of mischiefe and those haue most speed Vnto the Priests of Pan had made it knowne And though with griefe enough were thither flown With strict command the Officers that be As hands of Iustiâ—â— in her each decree Those vnto iudgement brought him where accus'd That with vnhappy hand he had abus'd The holy Tree and by the oath of him Whose eye beheld the separated limb All doubts dissolu'd quicke iudgement was â—warded And but last night that hiâ—her strongly guarded This morne he should be brought from yond â—oâ—k Where euery houre new store of mourners flocke He should be head-long throwne too hard a doome To be depriu'd of life and dead of toombe This is the cause faire Goddesse that appeares Before you now clad in an old mans teares Which willingly flow out and shall doe more Then many Winters haue seene heretofore But Father quoth she let me vnderstand How you are sure that it was Caelia's hand Which rent the branch and then if you can tell What Nymph it was which neere the lonely Dell Your shepherd succour'd Quoth the good old man The last time in her Orbe pale Cynthia ran I to the prison went and from him knew Vpon my vow what now is knowne to you And that the Lady which he found distrest Is Pida call'd a Maid not meanly blest By heauens endowments and. Alas â— but see Kinde Philocel ingirt with miserie More strong then by his bonds is drawing nigh The place appointed for