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.
golden Censer forth doth rise And throwing forth sweet odours moūts fro thēce In rolling globes vp to the vauted skies There she beholds with high aspiring thought The cradle of her owne creation Emongst the seats of Angels heauenly wrought Much like an Angell in all forme and fashion Colin said Cuddy then thou hast forgot Thy selfe me seemes too much to mount so hie Such loftie flight base shepheard seemeth not From flocks and fields to Angels and to skie True answered he but her great excellence Lifts me aboue the measure of my might That being fild with furious insolence I feele my selfe like one yrapt in spright For when I thinke of her as oft I ought Then want I words to speake it fitly forth And when I speake of her what I haue thought I cannot thinke according to her worth Yet will I thinke of her yet will I speake So long as life my limbs doth hold together And when as death these vitall bands shall breake Her name recorded I will leaue for euer Her name in euery tree I will endosse That as the trees do grow her name may grow And in the ground each where will it engrosse And fill with stones that all men may it know The speaking woods and murmuring waters fall Her name I le teach in knowen termes to frame And eke my lambs when for their dams they call I le teach to call for Cynthia by name And long while after I am dead and rotten Amōgst the shepheards daughters dancing rownd My layes made of her shall not be forgotten But sung by them with flowry gyrlonds crownd And ye who so ye be that shall surviue When as ye heare her memory renewed Be witnesse of her bountie here aliue Which she to Colin her poore shepheard shewed Much was the whole assembly of those heards Moov'd at his speech so feelingly he spake And stood awhile astonisht at his words Till Thestylis at last their silence brake Saying Why Colin since thou foundst such grace With Cynthia and all her noble crew Why didst thou euer leaue that happie place In which such wealth might vnto thee accrew And back returnedst to this barrein soyle Where cold and care and penury do dwell Here to keep sheepe with hunger and with toyle Most wretched he that is and cannot tell Happie indeed said Colin I him hold That may that blessed presence still enioy Of fortune and of enuy vncomptrold Which still are wont most happie states t'annoy But I by that which little while I prooued Some part of those enormities did see The which in Court continually hooued And followd those which happie seemd to bee Therefore I silly man whose former dayes Had in rude fields bene altogether spent Darest not aduenture such vnknowen wayes Nor trust the guile of fortunes blandishment But rather chose back to my sheep to tourne Whose vtmost hardnesse I before had tryde Then hauing learnd repentance late to mourne Emongst those wretches which I there descryde Shepheard said Thestylis it seemes of spight Thou speakest thus gainst their felicitie Which thou enuiest rather then of right That ought in them blameworthie thou doest spie Cause haue I none quoth he of cancred will To quite them ill that me demeand so well But selfe-regard of priuate good or ill Moues me of each so as I found to tell And eke to warne yong shepheards wandring wit Which through report of that liues painted blisse Abandon quiet home to seeke for it And leaue their lambes to losse misled amisse For sooth to say it is no sort of life For shepheard fit to lead in that same place Where each one seeks with malice and with strife To thrust downe other into foule disgrace Himselfe to raise and he doth soonest rise That best can handle his deceitfull wit In subtil shifts and finest sleights deuise Either by slaundring his well deemed name Through leasings lewd and fained forgerie Or else by breeding him some blot of blame By creeping close into his secrecie To which him needs a guilefull hollow hart Masked with faire dissembling curtesie A filed toung furnisht with tearmes of art No art of schoole but Courtiers schoolery For arts of schoole haue there small countenance Counted but toyes to busie ydle braines And there professours find small maintenance But to be instruments of others gaines Ne is there place for any gentle wit Vnlesse to please it selfe it can applie But shouldred is or out of doore quite shit As base or blunt vnmeet for melodie For each mans worth is measured by his weed As harts by hornes or asses by their eares Yet asses been not all whose eares exceed Nor yet all harts that hornes the highest beares For highest lookes haue not the highest mynd Nor haughtie words most full of highest thoughts But are like bladders blowen vp with wynd That being prickt do vanish into noughts Euen such is all their vaunted vanitie Nought else but smoke that fumeth soone away Such is their glorie that in simple eie Seeme greatest when their garments are most gay So they themselues for praise of fooles do sell And all their wealth for painting on a wall With price whereof they buy a golden bell And purchace highest rowmes in bowre and hall Whiles single Truth and simple honestie Do wander vp and downe despys'd of all Their plaine attire such glorious gallantry Disdaines so much that none them in doth call Ah Colin then said Hobbinol the blame Which thou imputest is too generall As if not any gentle wit of name Nor honest mynd might there be found at all For well I wot sith I my selfe was there To wait on Lobbin Lobbin well thou knewest Full many worrhie ones then waiting were As euer else in Princes Court thou vewest Of which among you many yet remaine Whose names I cannot readily now ghesse Those that poore Sutors papers do retaine And those that skill of medicine professe And those that do to Cynthia expound The ledden of straunge languages in charge For Cynthia doth in sciences abound And giues to their professors stipends large Therefore vniustly thou doest wyte them all For that which thou mislikedst in a few Blame is quoth he more blamelesse generall Then that which priuate errours doth pursew For well I wot that there amongst them bee Full many persons of right worthie parts Both for report of spotlesse honestie And for profession of all learned arts Whose praise hereby no whit impaired is Though blame do light on those that faultie bee For all the rest do most-what far amis And yet their owne misfaring will not see For either they be puffed vp with pride Or fraught with enuie that their galls do swell Or they their dayes to ydlenesse diuide Or drownded lie in pleasures wastefull well In which like Moldwarps nousling still they lurke Vnmyndfull of chiefe parts of manlinesse And do themselues for want of other worke Vaine votaries of laesie loue professe Whose seruice high so basely they ensew That Cupid selfe
sing the loue-layes which he made VVho euer made such layes of loue as hee Ne euer read the riddles which he sayd Vnto yourselues to make you mery glee Your mery glee is now laid all abed Your mery maker now alasse is dead Death the deuourer of all worlds delight Hath robbed you and rest fro me my ioy Both you and me and all the world he quight Hath robd of ioyance and lest sad annoy Ioy of the world and shepheards pride was hee Shepheards hope neuer like againe to see Oh death that hast vs of such riches rest Tell vs at least what hast thou with it done VVhat is become of him whose flowre here left Is but the shadow of his likenesse gone Scarse like the shadow of that which he was Nought like but that he like a shade did pas But that immortall spirit which was deckt VVith all the dowries of celestiall grace By soueraine choyce from th'heuenly quires select And lineally deriv'd from Angels race O what is now of it become aread Ay me can so diuine a thing be dead Ah no it is not dead ne can it die But liues for aie in blisfull Paradise VVhere like a new-borne babe it soft doth lie In bed of lillies wrapt in tender wise And compast all about with roses sweet And daintie violets from head to feet There thousand birds all of celestiall brood To him do sweetly caroll day and night And with straunge notes of him well vnderstood Lull him a sleep in Angelick delight Whilest in sweet dreame to him presented bee Immortall beauties which no eye may see But he them sees and takes exceeding pleasure Of their diuine aspects appearing plaine And kindling loue in him aboue all measure Sweet loue still ioyous neuer feeling paine For what so goodly forme he there doth see He may enioy from iealous rancor free There liueth he in euerlasting blis Sweet spirit neuer fearing more to die Ne dreading harme from any foes of his Ne fearing saluage beasts more crueltie Whilest we here wretches waile his priuate lack And with vaine vowes do often call him back But liue thou there still happie happie spirit And giue vs leaue thee here thus to lament Not thee that doest thy heauens ioy inherit But our owne selues that here in dole are drent Thus do we weep and waile and wear our eies Mourning in others our owne miseries Which when she ended had another swaine Of gentle wit and daintie sweet deuice Whom Astrophel full deare did entertaine Whilest here he liv'd and held in passing price Hight Thestylis began his mournfull tourne And made the Muses in his song to mourne And after him full many other moe As euerie one in order lov'd him best Gan dight themselues t' expresse their inward woe With dolefull layes vnto the time addrest The which I here in order will rehearse As fittest flowres to deck his mournfull hearse The mourning Muse of Thestylis COme forth ye Nymphes come forth forsake you watry bowres Forsake your mossy caues and help me to lament Help me to tune my dolefull notes to gurgling sound Of Liffies tumbling streames Come let salt teares of ours Mix with his waters fresh O come let one consent Ioyne vs to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound Which fatall clap hath made decreed by higher powres The dreery day in which they haue from vs yrent The noblest plant that might from East to West be found Mourne mourn great Philips fall mourn we his wofull end Whom spitefull death hath pluct vntimely from the tree Whiles yet his yeares in flowre did promise worthie frute Ah dreadful Mars why didst thou not thy knight defend What wrathfull mood what fault of ours hath moued thee Of such a shining light to leaue vs destitute Tho with benigne aspect sometime didst vs behold Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute Fame and renowme to vs for glorious martiall deeds But now their ireful bemes haue chill'd our harts with cold Thou hast estrang'd thy self and deignest not our land Farre off to others now thy fauour honour breeds And high disdaine doth cause thee shun our clime I feare For hadst thou not bene wroth or that time neare at hand Thou wouldst haue heard the cry that woful Englād made Eke Zelands piteous plaints and Hollands toren heare Would haply haue appeas'd thy diuine angry mynd Thou shouldst haue seen the trees refuse to yeeld their shade And wailing to let fall the honor of their head And birds in mournfull tunes lamenting in their kinde Vp from his tombe the mightie Corineus rose Who cursing oft the fates that this mishap had bred His hoary locks he tare calling the heauens vnkinde The Thames was heard to roare the Reyne and eke the Mose The Schald the Danow selfe this great mischance did rue With torment and with grief their fountains pure cleere Were troubled with swelling flouds declar'd their woes The Muses comfortles the Nymphs with paled hue The Siluan Gods likewise came running farre and neere And all with teares bedeawd and eyes cast vp on hie O help O help ye Gods they ghastly gan to crie O chaunge the cruell fate of this so rare a wight And graunt that natures course may measure out his age The beasts their foode forsooke and trembling fearfully Each sought his caue or den this cry did them so fright Out from amid the waues by storme then stirr'd to rage This crie did cause to rise th' old father Ocean hoare Who graue with eld and full of maiestie in sight Spake in this wise Refrain quoth he your teares plaints Cease these your idle words make vaine requests no more No humble speech nor mone may moue the fixed stint Of destinie or death Such is his will that paints The earth with colours fresh the darkest skies with store Of starry lights And though your teares a hart of flint Might tender make yet nought herein they will preuaile Whiles thus he said the noble knight who gan to feele His vitall force to faint and death with cruell dint Of direfull dart his mortall bodie to assaile With eyes lift vp to heav'n and courage franke as steele With cheerfull face where valour liuely was exprest But humble mynd he said O Lord if ought this fraile And earthly carcasse haue thy seruice sought t' aduaunce If my desire haue bene still to relieue th' opprest If Iustice to maintaine that valour I haue spent Which thou me gau'st or if henceforth I might aduaunce Thy name thy truth then spare me Lord if thou think best Forbeare these vnripe yeares But if thy will be bent If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set Through pure and feruent faith I hope now to be plast In th'euerlasting blis which with thy precious blood Thou purchase didst for vs. With that a sigh he fet And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercast His lips waxt pale and wan like
seemes to say vnto the sading flowres Along his bankes vnto the bared trees Phillisides is dead Vp iolly swaine Thou that with skill canst tune a dolefull lay Help him to mourn My hart with grief doth freese Hoarse is my voice with crying else a part Sure would I beare though rude But as I may With sobs and sighes I second will thy song And so expresse the sorrowes of my hart Colin Ah Lycon Lycon what need skill to teach A grieued mynd powre forth his plaints how long Hath the pore Turtle gon to school weenest thou To learne to mourne her lost make No no each Creature by nature can tell how to waile Seest not these flocks how sad they wander now Seemeth their leaders bell their bleating tunes In dolefull sound Like him not one doth faile With hanging head to shew a heauie cheare What bird I pray thee hast thou seen that prunes Himselfe of late did any cheerfull note Come to thine eares or gladsome sight appeare Vnto thine eies since that same fatall howre Hath not the aire put on his mourning coat And testfied his grief with flowing teares Sith then it seemeth each thing to his powre Doth vs inuite to make a sad consort Come let vs ioyne our mournfull song with theirs Griefe will endite and sorrow will enforce Thy voice and Eccho will our words report Lyc. Though my rude rymes ill with thy verses frame That others farre excell yet will I force My selfe to answere thee the best I can And honor my base words with his high name But if my plaints annoy thee where thou sit In secret shade or cave vouchsafe O Pan To pardon me and here this hard constraint With patience while I sing and pittie it And eke ye rurall Muses that do dwell In these wilde woods If euer piteous plaint We did endite or taught a wofull minde VVith words of pure affect his griefe to tell Instruct me now Now Colin then goe on And I will follow thee though farre behinde Colin Phillisides is dead O harmfull death O deadly harme Vnhappie Albion VVhen shalt thou see emong thy shepheards all Any so sage so perfect VVhom vneath Enuie could touch for vertuous life and skill Curteous valiant and liberall Behold the sacred Pales where with haire Vntrust she sitts in shade of yonder hill And her faire face bent sadly downe doth send A floud of teares to bathe the earth and there Doth call the heau'ns despightfull enuious Cruell his fate that made so short an end Of that same life well worthie to haue bene Prolongd with many yeares happie and famous The Nymphs and Oreades her round about Do sit lamenting on the grassie grene And with shrill cries beating their whitest brests Accuse the direfull dart that death sent out To giue the fatall stroke The starres they blame That deafe or carelesse seeme at their request The pleasant shade of stately groues they shun They leaue their cristall springs where they wont frame Sweet bowres of Myrtel twigs and Lawrel faire To sport themselues free from the scorching Sun And now the hollow caues where horror darke Doth dwell whence banisht is the gladsome aire They seeke and there in mourning spend their time With wailfull tunes whiles wolues do howle and barke And seem to beare a bourdon to their plaint Lyc. Phillisides is dead O dolefull ryme Why should my toong expresse thee who is left Now to vphold thy hopes when they do faint Lycon vnfortunate What spitefull fate What lucklesse destinie hath thee bereft Of thy chief comfort of thy onely stay Where is become thy wonted happie state Alas wherein through many a hill and dale Through pleasant woods and many an vnknowne way Along the bankes of many siluer streames Thou with him yodest and with him didst scale The craggie rocks of th'Alpes and Appenine Still with the Muses sporting while those beames Of vertue kindled in his noble brest Which after did so gloriously forth shine But woe is me they now yquenched are All suddeinly and death hath them opprest Loe father Neptune with sad countenance How he sitts mourning on the strond now bare Yonder where th' Ocean with his rolling waues The white feete washeth wailing this mischance Of Douer cliffes His sacred skirt about The sea-gods all are set from their moist caues All for his comfort gathered there they be The Thamis rich the Humber rough and stout The fruitfull Seuerne with the rest are come To helpe their Lord to mourne and eke to see The dolefull sight and sad pomp funerall Of the dead corps passing through his kingdome And all their heads with Cypres gyrlonds crown'd With wofull shrikes salute him great and small Eke wailfull Eccho forgetting her deare Narcissus their last accents doth resownd Col. Phillisides is dead O lucklesse age O widow world O brookes and fountains cleere O hills O dales O woods that oft haue rong With his sweet caroling which could asswage The fiercest wrath of Tygre or of Beare Ye Siluans Fawnes and Satyres that emong These thickets oft haue daunst after his pipe Ye Nymphs and Nayades with golden heare That oft haue left your purest cristall springs To harken to his layes that coulden wipe Away all griefe and sorrow from your harts Alas who now is left that like him sings When shall you heare againe like harmonie So sweet a sownd who to you now imparts Loe where engraued by his hand yet liues The name of Stella in yonder bay tree Happie name happie tree faire may you grow And spred your sacred branch which honor giues To famous Emperours and Poets crowne Vnhappie flock that wander scattred now What maruell if through grief ye woxen leane Forsake your food and hang your heads adowne For such a shepheard neuer shall you guide whose parting hath of weale bereft you cleane Lyc. Phillisides is dead O happie sprite That now in heau'n with blessed soules doest bide Looke down a while from where thou sitst aboue And see how busie shepheards be to endite Sad songs of grief their sorrowes to declare And gratefull memory of their kynd loue Behold my selfe with Colin gentle swaine Whose lerned Muse thou cherisht most whyleare Where we thy name recording seeke to ease The inward torment and tormenting paine That thy departure to vs both hath bred Ne can each others sorrow yet appease Behold the fountains now left desolate And with red grasse with cypres boughes be-spred Behold these floures which on thy graue we strew Which faded shew the giuers faded state Though eke they shew their feruēt zeale pure VVhos 's onely comfort on thy welfare grew Whose praiers importune shall the heau's for ay That to thy ashes rest they may assure That learnedst shepheards honor may thy name With yeerly praises and the Nymphs alway Thy tomb may deck with fresh sweetest flowres And that for euer may endure thy fame Colin The Sun lo hastned hath his face to steep In western waues and th' aire with stormy