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
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.
damaske roses bud Cast from the stalke or like in field to purple flowre VVhich languisheth being shred by culter as it past A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines which were VVith eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre VVhose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare Next murmuring ensude at last they not forbeare Plaine outcries all against the heau's that enuiously Depriv'd vs of a spright so perfect and so rare The Sun his lightsom beames did shrowd and hide his face For griefe whereby the earth feard night eternally The mountaines each where shooke the riuers turn'd their streames And th' aire gan winterlike to rage and fret apace And grisly ghosts by night were seene and fierie gleames Amid the clouds with claps of thunder that did seeme To rent the skies and made both man and beast afeard The birds of ill presage this lucklesse chance foretold By dernfull noise and dogs with howling made man deeme Some mischief was at hand for such they do esteeme As tokens of mishap and so haue done of old Ah that thou hadst but heard his louely Stella plaine Her greeuous losse or seene her heauie mourning cheere While she with woe opprest her sorrowes did vnfold Her haire hung lose neglect about her shoulders twaine And from those two bright starres to him sometime so deere Her heart sent drops of pearle which fell in foyson downe Twixt lilly and the rose She wroong her hands with paine And piteously gan say My true and faithfull pheere Alas and woe is me why should my fortune frowne On me thus frowardly to rob me of my ioy What cruell enuious hand hath taken thee away And with thee my content my comfort and my stay Thou onelie wast the ease of trouble and annoy When they did me assaile in thee my hopes did rest Alas what now is left but grief that night and day Afflicts this wofull life and with continuall rage Torments ten thousand waies my mtserable brest O greedie enuious heau'n what needed thee to haue Enricht with such a Iewell this vnhappie age To take it back againe so soone Alas when shall Mine eies see ought that may content them since thy graue My onely treasure hides the ioyes of my poore hart As herewith thee on earth I liv'd euen so equall Me thinkes it were with thee in heau'n I did abide And as our troubles all we here on earth did part So reason would that there of thy most happie state I had my share Alas if thou my trustie guide Were wont to be how canst thou leaue me thus alone In darknesse and astray weake wearie desolate Plung d in a world of woe refusing for to take Me with thee to the place of rest where thou art gone This said she held her peace for sorrow tide her toong And insteed of more words seemd that her eies a lake Of teares had bene they flow'd so plenteously therefro And with her sobs and sighs th' aire round about her roong If Venus when she waild her deare Adonis slaine Ought moov'd in thy fiers hart compassion of her woe His noble sisters plaints her sighes and teares emong Would sure haue made thee milde and inly rue her paine Aurora halfe so faire her selfe did neuer show When from old Tithons bed shee weeping did arise The blinded archer-boy like larke in showre of raine Sat bathing of his wings and glad the time did spend Vnder those cristall drops which fell from her faire eies And at their brightest beames him proynd in louely wise Yet sorie for her grief which he could not amend The geÌ„tle boy gaÌ„ wipe her eies clear those lights Those lights through which his glory and his conquests shine The Graces tuckt her hair which hung like threds of gold Along her yuorie brest the treasure of delights All things with her to weep it seemed did encline The trees the hills the dales the caues the stones so cold The aire did help them mourne with dark clouds raine and mist Forbearing many a day to cleare it selfe againe Which made them eftsoones feare the daies of Pirrha shold Of creatures spoile the earth their fatall threds vntwist For Phoebus gladsome raies were wished for in vaine And with her quiuering light Latonas daughter faire And Charles-waine eke refus'd to be the shipmans guide On Neptune warre was made by Aeolus and his traine Who letting loose the winds tost and tormented th' aire So that on eu'ry coast men shipwrack did abide Or else were swallowed vp in open sea with waues And such as came to shoare were beaten with despaire The Medwaies siluer streames that wont so still to slide Were troubled now wrothe whose hiddeÌ„ hollow caues Along his banks with fog then shrowded from mans eye Ay Phillip did resownd aie Phillip they did crie His Nimphs were seen no more thogh custom stil it craues With haire spred to the wynd themselues to bath or sport Or with the hooke or net barefooted wantonly The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceiue The shepheards left their wonted places of resort Their bagpipes now were still their louing mery layes Were quite forgot and now their flocks meÌ„ might perceiue To wander and to straie all carelesly neglect And in the stead of mirth and pleasure nights and dayes Nought els was to be heard but woes complaints mone But thou O blessed soule doest haply not respect These teares we shead though full of louing pure affect Hauing affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne Where full of maiestie the high creator reignes In whose bright shining face thy ioyes are all complete Whose loue kindles thy spright where happie alwaies one Thou liu'st in blis that earthly passion neuer staines Where from the purest spring the sacred Nectar sweete Is thy continuall drinke where thou doest gather now Of well emploied life th'inestimable gaines There Venus on thee smiles Apollo giues thee place And Mars in reuerent wise doth to thy vertue bow And decks his fiery sphere to do thee honour most In highest part whereof thy valour for to grace A chaire of gold he setts to thee and there doth tell Thy noble acts arew whereby euen they that boast Themselues of auncient fame as Pirrhus Hanniball Scipio and Caesar with the rest that did excell In martiall prowesse high thy glorie do admire All haile therefore O worthie Phillip immortall The flowre of Sydneyes race the honour of thy name Whose worthie praise to sing my Muses not aspire But sorrowfull and sad these teares to thee let fall Yet wish their verses might so farre and wide thy fame Extend that enuies rage nor time might end the same A pastorall Aeglogue vpon the death of Sir Phillip Sidney Knight c. Lycon Colin Colin well â—its thy sad cheare this sad stownd This wofull stownd wherein all things complaine This great mishap this greeuous losse of owres Hear'st thou the Orown how with hollow sownd He slides away and murmuring doth plaine And