notes annext a phill The Turtle doue with tunes of ruthe Shewd feeling passion of his death Me thought she said I tell thee truthe Was neuer he that drew in breath Vnto his loue more trustie found Than he for whom our griefs abound The swan that was in presence heere Began his funerall dirge to sing Good things quoth he may scarce appeere But passe away with speedie wing This mortall life as death is tride And death giues life and so he di'de The generall sorrow that was made Among the creatures of kinde Fired the Phoenix where she laide Her ashes flying with the winde So as I might with reason see That such a Phoenix nere should bee Haply the cinders driuen about May breede an offspring neere that kinde But hardly a peere to that I doubt It cannot sinke into my minde Than vnder branches ere can bee Of worth and value as the tree The Egle markt with pearcing sight The mournfull habite of the place And parted thence with mounting flight To signifie to Ioue the the case What sorrow nature doth sustaine For Astrophill by enuie slaine And while I followed with mine eie The flight the Egle vpward tooke All things did vanish by and by And disappeared from my looke The trees beasts birds and groue was gone So was the friend that made this mone This spectacle had firmly wrought A deepe compassion in my spright My molting hart issude me thought In streames forth at mine eies aright And here my pen is forst to shrinke My teares discollors so mine inke An Epitaph vpon the right Honourable sir Phillip Sidney knight Lord gouernor of Flushing TO praise thy life or waile thy worthie death And want thy wit thy wit high pure diuine Is far beyond the powre of mortall line Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath Yet rich in zeale though poore in learnings lore And friendly care obscurde in secret brest And loue that enuie in thy life supprest Thy deere life done and death hath doubled more And I that in thy time and liuing state Did onely praise thy vertues in my thought As one that seeld the rising sun hath sought With words and teares now waile thy timelesse fate Drawne was thy race aright from princely line Nor lesse than such by gifts that nature gaue The common mother that all creatures haue Doth vertue shew and princely linage shine A king gaue thee thy name a kingly minde That God thee gaue who found it now too deere For this base world and hath resumde it neere To sit in skies and sort with powres diuine Kent thy birth daies and Oxford held thy youth The heauens made hast staid nor yeers nor time The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime Thy will thy words thy words the seales of truth Great gifts and wisedom rare imployd thee thence To treat frō kings with those more great thā kings Such hope men had to lay the highest things On thy wise youth to be transported hence Whence to sharpe wars sweet honor did thee call Thy countries loue religion and thy friends Of worthy men the marks the liues and ends And her defence for whom we labor all There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age Griefe sorrow sicknes and base fortunes might Thy rising day saw neuer wofull night But past with praise from of this worldly stage Back to the campe by thee that day was brought First thine owne death and after thy long fame Teares to the soldiers the proud Castilians shame Vertue exprest and honor truly taught What hath he lost that such great grace hath woon Yoong yeeres for endles yeeres and hope vnsure Of fortunes gifts for wealth that still shall dure Oh happie race with so great praises run England doth hold thy lims that bred the same Flaunders thy valure where it last was tried The Campe thy sorrow where thy bodie died Thy friends thy want the world thy vertues fame Nations thy wit our mindes lay vp thy loue Letters thy learning thy losse yeeres long to come In worthy harts sorrow hath made thy tombe Thy soule and spright enrich the heauens aboue Thy liberall hart imbalmd in gratefull teares Yoong sighs sweet sighes sage sighes bewaile thy fall Enuie her sting and spite hath left her gall Malice her selfe a mourning garment weares That day their Hanniball died our Scipio fell Scipio Cicero and Petrarch of our time Whose vertues wounded by my worthlesse rime Let Angels speake and heauen thy praises tell Another of the same SIlence augmenteth grief writing encreaseth rage Stald are my thoughts which lou'd lost the wonder of our age Yet quickned now with fire though dead with frost ere now Enrag'de I write I know not what dead quick I know not how Hard harted mindes relent and rigors teares abound And enuie strangely rues his end in whom no fault she found Knowledge her light hath lost valor hath slaine her knight Sidney is dead dead is my friend dead is the worlds delight Place pensiue wailes his fall whose presence was her pride Time crieth out my ebbe is come his life was my spring tide Fame mournes in that she lost the ground of her reports Ech liuing wight laments his lacke and all in sundry sorts He was wo worth that word to ech well thinking minde A spotlesse friend a matchles man whose vertue euer shinde Declaring in his thoughts his life and that he writ Highest conceits longest foresights and deepest works of wit He onely like himselfe was second vnto none Whose deth though life we rue wrong al in vain do mone Their losse not him waile they that fill the world with cries Death slue not him but he made death his ladder to the skies Now sinke of sorrow I who liue the more the wrong Who wishing death whom deth denies whose thred is al to lōg Who tied to wretched life who lookes for no reliefe Must spend my euer dying daies in neuer ending griefe Harts ease and onely I like parables run on Whose equall length keep equall bredth and neuer meet in one Yet for not wronging him my thoughts my sorrowes cell Shall not run out though leake they will for liking him so well Farewell to you my hopes my wonted waking dreames Farewell sometimes enioyed ioy eclipsed are thy beames Farewell selfe pleasing thoughts which quietnes brings foorth And farewel friendships sacred league vniting minds of woorth And farewell mery hart the gift of guiltlesse mindes And all sports which for liues restore varietie assignes Let all that sweete is voyd in me no mirth may dwell Phillip the cause of all this woe my liues content farewell Now rime the sonne of rage which art no kin to skill And endles griefe which deads my life yet knowes not how to kill Go seekes that haples tombe which if ye hap to finde Salute the stones that keep the lims that held so good a minde FINIS LONDON Printed by T. C. for William Ponsonbie 1595.
on hie Did warily still watch which way she went And eke from far obseru'd with iealous eie VVhich way his course the wanton Bregog bent Him to deceiue for all his watchfull ward The wily louer did deuise this slight First into many parts his streame he shar'd That whilest the one was watcht the other might Passe vnespide to meete her by the way And then besides those little streames so broken He vnder ground so closely did conuay That of their passage doth appeare no token Till they into the Mullaes water slide So secretly did he his loue enioy Yet not so secret but it was descride And told her father by a shepheards boy Who wondrous wroth for that so foule despight In great auenge did roll downe from his hill Huge mightie stones the which encomber might His passage and his water-courses spill So of a Riuer which he was of old He none was made but scattred all to nought And lost emong those rocks into him rold Did lose his name so deare his loue he bought Which hauing said him Thestylis bespake Now by my life this was a mery lay Worthie of Colin selfe that did it make But read now eke of friendship I thee pray What dittie did that other shepheard sing For I do couet most the same to heare As men vse most to couet forreine thing That shall I eke quoth he to you declare His song was all a lamentable lay Of great vnkindnesse and of vsage hard Of Cynthia the Ladie of the sea Which from her presence faultlesse him debard And euer and anon with singulfs rife He cryed out to make his vndersong Ah my loues queene and goddesse of my life Who shall me pittie when thou doest me wrong Then gan a gentle bonylasse to speake That Marin hight Right well he sure did plaine That could great Cynthiaes sore displeasure breake And moue to take him to her grace againe But tell on further Colin as befell Twixt him and thee that thee did hence dissuade When thus our pipes we both had wearied well Quoth he and each an end of singing made He gan to cast great lyking to my lore And great dislyking to my lucklesse lot That banisht had my selfe like wight forlore Into that waste where I was quite forgot The which to leaue thenceforth he counseld mee Vnmeet for man in whom was ought regardfull And wend with him his Cynthia to see Whose grace was great bounty most rewardfull Besides her peerlesse skill in making well And all the ornaments of wondrous wit Such as all womankynd did far excell Such as the world admyr'd and praised it So what with hope of good and hate of ill He me perswaded forth with him to fare Nought tooke I with me but mine oaten quill Small needments else need shepheard to prepare So to the sea we came the sea that is A world of waters heaped vpon hie Rolling like mountaines in wide wildernesse Horrible hideous roaring with hoarse crie And is the sea quoth Coridon so fearfull Fearful much more quoth he thē hart can fear Thousand wyld beasts with deep mouthes gaping direfull Therin stil wait poore passengers to teare Who life doth loath and longs death to behold Before he die alreadie dead with feare And yet would liue with heart halfe stonie cold Let him to sea and he shall see it there And yet as ghastly dreadfull as it seemes Bold men presuming life for gaine to sell Dare tempt that gulf and in those wandring stremes Seek waies vnknowne waies leading down to hell For as we stood there waiting on the strond Behold an huge great vessell to vs came Dauncing vpon the waters back to lond As if it scornd the daunger of the same Yet was it but a wooden frame and fraile Glewed togither with some subtile matter Yet had it armes and wings and head and taile And life to moue it selfe vpon the water Strange thing how bold swift the monster was That neither car'd for wynd nor haile nor raine Nor swelling waues but thorough them did passe So proudly that she made them roare againe The same aboord vs gently did receaue And without harme vs farre away did beare So farre that land our mother vs did leaue And nought but sea and heauen to vs appeare Then hartlesse quite and full of inward feare That shepheard I besought to me to tell Vnder what skie or in what world we were In which I saw no liuing people dwell Who me recomforting all that he might Told me that that same was the Regiment Of a great shepheardesse that Cynthia hight His liege his Ladie and his lifes Regent If then quoth I a shepheardesse she bee Where be the flockes and heards which she doth keep And where may I the hills and pastures see On which she vseth for to feed her sheepe These be the hills quoth he the surges hie On which faire Cynthia her heards doth feed Her heards be thousand fishes with their frie Which in the bosome of the billowes breed Of them the shepheard which hath charge in chief Is Triton blowing loud his wreathed horne At sound whereof they all for their relief Wend too and fro at euening and at morne And Proteus eke with him does driue his heard Of stinking Seales and Porcpisces together With hoary head and deawy dropping beard Compelling them which way he list and whether And I among the rest of many least Haue in the Ocean charge to me assignd Where I will liue or die at her beheast And serue and honour her with faithfull mind Besides an hundred Nymphs all heauenly borne And of immortall race doo still attend To wash faire Cynthiaes sheep whē they be shorne And fold them vp when they haue made an end Those be the shepheards which my Cynthia serue At sea beside a thousand moe at land For land and sea my Cynthia doth deserue To haue in her commandement at hand Thereat I wondred much till wondring more And more at length we land far off descryde Which sight much gladed me for much afore I feard least land we neuer should haue eyde Thereto our ship her course directly bent As if the way she perfectly had knowne We Lunday passe by that same name is ment An Island which the first to west was showne From thence another world of land we kend Floting amid the sea in ieopardie And round about with mightie white rocks hemd Against the seas encroching crueltie Those same the shepheard told me were the fields In which dame Cynthia her landheards fed Faire goodly fields then which Armulla yields None fairer nor more fruitfull to be red The first to which we nigh approched was An high headland thrust far into the sea Like to an horne whereof the name it has Yet seemed to be a goodly pleasant lea There did a loftie mount at first vs greet Which did a stately heape of stones vpreare That seemd amid the surges for to fleet Much greater then that frame which vs
did beare There did our ship her fruitfull wombe vnlade And put vs all a shore on Cynthias land What land is that thou meanst then Cuddy sayd And is there other then whereon we stand Ah Cuddy then quoth Colin thous a fon That hast not seene least part of natures worke Much more there is vnkend then thou doest kon And much more that does from mens knowledge lurke For that same land much larger is then this And other men and beasts and birds doth feed There fruitfull corne faire trees fresh herbage is And all things else that liuing creatures need Besides most goodly riuers there appeare No whit inferiour to thy Funchins praise Or vnto Allo or to Mulla cleare Nought hast thou foolish boy seene in thy daies But if that land be there quoth he as here And is theyr heauen likewise there all one And if like heauen be heauenly graces there Like as in this same world where we do wone Both heauen and heauenly graces do much more Quoth he abound in that same land then this For there all happie peace and plenteous store Conspire in one to make contented blisse No wayling there nor wretchednesse is heard No bloodie issues nor no leprosies No griesly famine nor no raging sweard No nightly bodrags nor no hue and cries The shepheards there abroad may safely lie On hills and downes withouten dread or daunger No rauenous wolues the good mans hope destroy Nor outlawes fell affray the forest raunger There learned arts do florish in great honor And Poets wits are had in peerlesse price Religion hath lay powre to rest vpon her Aduancing vertue and suppressing vice For end all good all grace there freely growes Had people grace it gratefully to vse For God his gifts there plenteously bestowes But gracelesse men them greatly do abuse But say on further then said Corylas The rest of thine aduentures that betyded Foorth on our voyage we by land did passe Quoth he as that same shepheard still vs guyded Vntill that we to Cynthiaes presence came Whose glorie greater then my simple thought I found much greater then the former fame Such greatnes I cannot compare to ought But if I her like ought on earth might read I would her lyken to a crowne of lillies Vpon a virgin brydes adorned head With Roses light and Goolds and Daffadillies Or like the circlet of a Turtle true In which all colours of the rainbow bee Or like faire Phebes garlond shining new In which all pure perfection one may see But vaine it is to thinke by paragone Of earthly things to iudge of things diuine Her power her mercy and her wisedome none Can deeme bu◠who the Godhead can define Why then do I base shepheard bold and blind Presume the things so sacred to prophane More fit it is t' adore with humble mind The image of the heauens in shape humane With that Alexis broke his tale asunder Saying By wondring at thy Cynthiaes praise Colin thy selfe thou makest vs more to wonder And her vpraising doest thy selfe vpraise But let vs heare what grace she shewed thee And how that shepheard strange thy cause aduanced The shepheard of the Ocean quoth he Vnto that Goddesse grace me first enhanced And to mine oaten pipe enclin'd her eare That she thenceforth therein gan take delight And it desir'd at timely houres to heare All were my notes but rude and roughly dight For not by measure of her owne great mynd And wondrous worth she mott my simple song But ioyd that country shepheard ought could fynd Worth harkening to emongst that learned throng Why said Alexis then what needeth shee That is so great a shepheardesse her selfe And hath so many shepheards in her fee To heare thee sing a simple silly Elfe Or be the shepheards which do serue her laesie That they list not their mery pipes applie Or be their pipes vntunable and craesie That they cannot her honour worthilie Ah nay said Colin neither so nor so For better shepheards be not vnder skie Nor better hable when they list to blow Their pipes aloud her name to glorifie There is good Harpalus now woxen aged In faithfull seruice of faire Cynthia And there is a Corydon though meanly waged Yet hablest wit of most I know this day And there is sad Aleyon bent to mourne Though fit to frame an euerlasting dittie Whose gentle spright for Daphnes death doth tourn Sweet layes of loue to endlesse plaints of pittie Ah pensiue boy pursue that braue conceipt In thy sweet Eglantine of Meriflure Lift vp thy notes vnto their wonted height That may thy Muse and mates to mirth allure There eke is Palin worthie of great praise Albe he enuie at my rustick quill And there is pleasing Alcon could he raise His tunes from laies to matter of more skill And there is old Palemon free from spight Whose carefull pipe may make the hearer rew Yet he himselfe may rewed be more right That sung so long vntill quite hoarse he grew And there is Alabaster throughly taught In all this skill though knowen yet to few Yet were he knowne to Cynthia as he ought His Eliseïs would be redde anew Who liues that can match that heroick song Which he hath of that mightie Princesse made O dreaded Dread do not thy selfe that wrong To let thy fame lie so in hidden shade But call it forth O call him forth to thee To end thy glorie which he hath begun That when he finisht hath as it should be No brauer Poeme can be vnder Sun Nor Po nor Tyburs swans so much renowned Nor all the brood of Greece so highly praised Can match that Muse whē it with bayes is crowned And to the pitch of her perfection raised And there is a new shepheard late vp sprong The which doth all afore him far surpasse Appearing well in that well tuned song Which late he sung vnto a scornfull lasse Yet doth his trembling Muse but lowly flie As daring not too rashly mount on hight And doth her tender plumes as yet but trie In loues soft laies and looser thoughts delight Then rouze thy feathers quickly Daniell And to what course thou please thy selfe aduance But most me seemes thy accent will excell In Tragick plaints and passionate mischance And there that shepheard of the Ocean is That spends his wit in loues consuming smart Full sweetly tempred is that Muse of his That can empierce a Princes mightie hart There also is ah no he is not now But since I said he is he quite is gone Amyntas quite is gone and lies full low Hauing his Amaryllis left to mone Helpe O ye shepheards helpe ye all in this Helpe Amaryllis this her losse to mourne Her losse is yours your losse Amyntas is Amyntas floure of shepheards pride forlorne He whilest he liued was the noblest swaine That euer piped in an oaten quill Both did he other which could pipe maintaine And eke could pipe himselfe with passing skill And there though last not least is Action A
greedily into the heard he thrust To slaughter them and worke their finall bale Least that his toyle should of their troups be brust Wide wounds emongst them many one he made Now with his sharp borespear now with his blade His care was all how he them all might kill That none might scape so partiall vnto none Ill mynd so much to mynd anothers ill As to become vnmyndfull of his owne But pardon that vnto the cruell skies That from himselfe to them withdrew his eies So as he rag'd emongst that beastly rout A cruell beast of most accursed brood Vpon him turnd despeyre makes cowards stout And with fell tooth accustomed to blood Launched his thigh with so mischieuous might That it both bone and muscles ryued quight So deadly was the dint and deep the wound And so huge streames of blood thereout did flow That he endured not the direfull stound But on the cold deare earth himselfe did throw The whiles the captiue heard his nets did rend And hauing none to let to wood did wend. Ah where were ye this while his shepheard peares To whom aliue was nought so deare as hee And ye faire Mayds the matches of his yeares Which in his grace did boast you most to bee Ah where were ye when he of you had need To stop his wound that wondrously did bleed Ah wretched boy the shape of drery head And sad ensample of mans suddein end Full litle faileth but thou shalt be dead Vnpitied vnplaynd of foe or frend Whilest none is nigh thine eylids vp to close And kisse thy lips like faded leaues of rose A sort of shepheards sewing of the chace As they the forest raunged on a day By fate or fortune came vnto the place Where as the lucklesse boy yet bleeding lay Yet bleeding lay and yet would still haue bled Had not good hap those shepheards thether led They stopt his wound too late to stop it was And in their armes then softly did him reare Tho as he wild vnto his loued lasse His dearest loue him dolefully did beare The dolefulst beare that euer man did see Was Astrophel but dearest vnto mee She when she saw her loue in such a plight With crudled blood and filthie gore deformed That wont to be with flowers and gyrlonds dight And her deare â—auours dearly well adorned Her face the fairest face that eye mote see She likewise did deforme like him to bee Her yellow locks that shone so bright and long As Sunny beames in fairest somers day She fiersly tore and with outragious wrong From her red cheeks the roses rent away And her faire brest the threasury of ioy She spoyld thereof and filled with annoy His palled face impictured with death She bathed oft with teares and dried oft And with sweet kisses suckt the wasting breath Out of his lips like lillies pale and soft And oft she cald to him who answerd nought But onely by his lookes did tell his thought The rest of her impatient regret And piteous mone the which she for him made No toong can tell nor any forth can set But he whose heart like sorrow did inuade At last when paine his vitall powres had spent His wasted life her weary lodge forwent Which when she saw she staied not a whit But after him did make vntimely haste Forth with her ghost out of her corps did flit And followed her make like Turtle chaste To proue that death their hearts cannot diuide Which liuing were in loue so firmly tide The Gods which all things see this same beheld And pittying this paire of louers trew Transformed them there lying on the field Into one flowre that is both red and blew It first growes red and then to blew doth fade Like Astrophel which thereinto was made And in the midst thereof a star appeares As fairly formd as any star in skyes Resembling Stella in her freshest yeares Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes And all the day it standeth full of deow Which is the teares that from her eyes did flow That hearbe of some Starlight is cald by name Of others Penthia though not so well But thou where euer thou doest finde the same From this day forth do call it Astrophel And when so euer thou it vp doest take Do pluck it softly for that shepheards sake Hereof when tydings far abroad did passe The shepheards all which loued him full deare And sure full deare of all he loued was Did thether flock to see what they did heare And when that pitteous spectacle they vewed The same with bitter teares they all bedewed And euery one did make exceeding mone With inward anguish and great griefe opprest And euery one did weep and waile and mone And meanes deviz'd to shew his sorrow best That from that houre since first on grassie greene Shepheards kept sheep was not like mourning seen But first his sister that Clorinda hight The gentlest shepheardesse that liues this day And most resembling both in shape and spright Her brother deare began this dolefull lay Which least I marre the sweetnesse of the vearse In sort as she it sung I will rehearse AY me to whom shall I my case complaine That may compassion my impatient griefe Or where shall I vnfold my inward paine That my enriuen heart may find reliefe Shall I vnto the heauenly powres it show Or vnto earthly men that dwell below To heauens ah they alas the authors were And workers of my vnremedied wo For they foresee what to vs happens here And they foresaw yet suffred this be so From them comes good from them comes also il That which they made who can them warne to spill To men ah they alas like wretched bee And subiect to the heauens ordinance Bound to abide what euer they decree Their best redresse is their best sufferance How then can they like wetched comfort mee The which no lesse need comforted to bee Then to my selfe will I my sorrow mourne Sith none aliue like sorrowfull remaines And to my selfe my plaints shall back retourne To pay their vsury with doubled paines The woods the hills the riuers shall resound The mournfull accent of my sorrowes ground VVoods hills and riuers now are desolate Sith he is gone the which them all did grace And all the fields do waile their widow state Sith death their fairest flowre did late deface The fairest flowre in field that euer grew VVas Astrophel that was we all may rew VVhat cruell hand of cursed foe vnknowne Hath cropt the stalke which bore so faire a flowre Vntimely cropt before it well were growne And cleane defaced in vntimely howre Great losse to all that euer him see Great losse to all but greatest losse to mee Breake now your gyrlonds O ye shepheards lasses Sith the faire flowre which them adornd is gon The flowre which them adornd is gone to ashes Neuer againe let lasse put gyrlond on Instead of gyrlond weare sad Cypres nowe And bitter Elder broken from the bowe Ne euer
showres Warnes vs to driue homewards our silly sheep Lycon lett 's rise and take of them good keep Virtute summa caetera fortuna L. B. An Elegie or friends passion for his Astrophill VVritten vpon the death of the right Honourable sir Phillip Sidney Knight Lord gouernour of Flushing AS then no winde at all there blew No swelling cloude accloid the aire The skie like grasse of watchet hew Reflected Phoebus golden haire The garnisht tree no pendant stird No voice was heard of anie bird There might you see the burly Beare The Lion king the Elephant The maiden Vnicorne was there So was Acteons horned plant And what of wilde or tame are found VVere coucht in order on the ground Alcides speckled poplar tree The palme that Monarchs do obtaine VVith Loue iuice staind the mulberie The fruit that dewes the Poets braine And Phillis philbert there away Comparde with mirtle and the bay The tree that coffins doth adorne With stately height threatning the skie And for the bed of Loue forlorne The blacke and dolefull Ebonie All in a circle compast were Like to an Ampitheater Vpon the branches of those trees The airie winged people sat Distinguished in od degrees One sort is this another that Here Philomell that knowes full well What force and wit in loue doth dwell The skiebred Egle roiall bird Percht there vpon an oke aboue The Turtle by him neuer stird Example of immortall loue The swan that sings about to dy Leauing Meander stood thereby And that which was of woonder most The Phoenix left sweet Arabie And on a Caedar in this coast Built vp her tombe of spicerie As I coniecture by the same Preparde to take her dying flame In midst and center of this plot I saw one groueling on the grasse A man or stone I knew not that No stone of man the figure was And yet I could not count him one More than the image made of stone At length I might perceiue him reare His bodie on his elbow end Earthly and pale with gastly cheare Vpon his knees he vpward tend Seeming like one in vncouth stound To be ascending out the ground A grieuous sigh forthwith he throwes As might haue torne the vitall strings Then down his cheeks the teares so flows As doth the streame of many springs So thunder rends the cloud in twaine And makes a passage for the raine Incontinent with trembling sound He wofully gan to complaine Such were the accents as might wound And teare a diamond rocke in twaine After his throbs did somewhat stay Thus heauily he gan to say O sunne said he seeing the sunne On wretched me why dost thou shine My star is falne my comfort done Out is the apple of my eine Shine vpon those possesse delight And let me liue in endlesse might O griefe that liest vpon my soule As heauie as a mount of lead The remnant of my life controll Consort me quickly with the dead Halfe of this hart this sprite and will Di'de in the brest of Astrophill And you compassionate of my wo Gentle birds beasts and shadie trees I am assurde ye long to kno VVhat be the sorrowes me agreeu's Listen ye then to that insu'th And heare a tale of teares and ruthe You knew who knew not Astrophill That I should liue to say I knew And haue not in possession still Things knowne permit me to renew Of him you know his merit such I cannot say you heare too much VVithin these woods of Arcadie He chiefe delight and pleasure tooke And on the mountaine Parthenie Vpon the chrystall liquid brooke The Muses met him eu'ry day That taught him sing to write and say When he descended downe to the mount His personage seemed most diuine A thousand graces one might count Vpon his louely cheerfull eine To heare him speake and sweetly smile You were in Paradise the while A sweet attractiue kinde of grace A full assurance giuen by lookes Continuall comfort in a face The lineaments of Gospell bookes I trowe that countenance cannot lie Whose thoughts are legible in the eie Was euer eie did see that face Was neuer eare did heare that tong Was neuer minde did minde his grace That euer thought the trauell long But eies and eares and eu'ry thought Were with his sweete perfections caught O God that such a worthy man In whom so rare desarts did raigne Desired thus must leaue vs than And we to wish for him in vaine O could the stars that bred that wit In force no longâ—â— fixed sit Then being fild with learned dew The Muses willed him to loue That instrument can aptly shew How finely our conceits will moue As Bacchus opes dissembled harts So loue sets out our better parts Stella a Nymph within this wood Most rare and rich of heauenly blis The highest in his fancie stood And she could well demerite this T is likely they acquainted soone He was a Sun and she a Moone Our Astrophill did Stella loue O Stella vaunt of Astrophrill Albeit thy graces gods may moue Where wilt thou finde an Astrophill The rose and lillie haue their prime And so hath beautie but a time Although thy beautie do exceed In common sight of eu'ry eie Yet in his Poesies when we reede It is apparant more thereby He that hath loue and iudgement to Sees more than any other doo Then Astrophill hath honord thee For when thy bodie is extinct Thy graces shall eternall be And liue by vertue of his inke For by his verses he doth giue To short liude beautie aye to liue Aboue all others this is hee Which erst approoued in his song That loue and honor might agree And that pure loue will do no wrong Sweet saints it is no sinne nor blame To loue a man of vertuous name Did neuer loue so sweetly breath In any mortall brest before Did neuer Muse inspire beneath A Poets braine with finer store He wrote of loue with high conceit And beautie reard aboue her height Then Pallas afterward attyrde Our Astrophill with her deuice VVhom in his armor heauen admyrde As of the nation of the skies He sparkled in his armes afarrs As he were dight with fierie starrs The blaze whereof when Mars beheld An enuious eie doth see afar Such maiestie quoth he is seeld Such maiestie my mart may mar Perhaps this may a suter be To set Mars by his deitie In this surmize he made with speede An iron cane wherein he put The thunder that in cloudes do breede The flame and bolt togither shut VVith priuie force burst out againe And so our Astrophill was slaine His word was flaine straightway did moue And natures inward life strings twitch The skie immediately aboue Was dimd with hideous clouds of pitch The wrastling winds from out the ground Fild all the aire with ratling sound The bending trees exprest a grone And sigh'd the sorrow of his fall The forrest beasts made ruthfull mone The birds did tune their mourning call And Philomell for Astrophill Vnto her