fruit as any tree that springs Beleeue me Maiden yow no chastitie For maidens but imperfect creatures be Alas poore Boy quoth Marine haue the Fates Exempted no degrees are no estates Frâ—e from Loues rage Be rul'd vnhappy Swaine Call backe thy spirits and recollect againe Thy vagrant wits I tell thee for a truth Loue is a Syren that doth shipwracke youth Be well aduis'd thou entertainst a guest That is the Harbinger of all vnrest VVhich like the Vipers young that licke the earth Eat out the breeders wombe to get a birth Faith quoth the Boy I know there cannot be Danger in louing or inioying thee For what cause were things made and called good But to be loued If you vnderstood The Birds that prattle here you would know then As birds wooe birds maids should be woo'd of men But I want power to wooe since what was mine Is fled and lye as vassals at your shrine And since what 's mine is yours let that same moue Although in me you see nought worthy Loue. Marine about to speake forth of a sling Fortune to all misfortunes plyes her wing More quicke and speedy came a sharpned flint VVhich in the faire boyes necke made such a dint That crimson bloud came streaming from the wound And he fell downe into a deadly swound The bloud ran all along where it did fall And could not finde a place of buriall But where it came it there congealed stood As if the Earth loath'd to drinke guiltlesse blood Gold-haird Apollo Muses sacred King VVhose praise in Delphos Ile doth euer ring Physickes first founder whose Arts excellence Extracted Natures chiefest quintessence Vnwilling that a thing of such a worth Should so be lost straight sent a Dragon forth To fetch this bloud and he perform'd the same And now Apothecaries giue it name From him that fetcht it Doctors know it good In Physicks vse and call it Dragons bloudâ— Some of the bloud by chance did down-ward fall And by a veine goâ— to a Minerall VVhence came a Red decayed Dames infuse it VVith Vâ—â—ise â—eruse and for painting vse it Marine astonisht most vnhappy Maid O'er-coâ—â— with feare and at the view afraid Fell downe into a tranâ—â— eyes lost their sight VVhich being open made all darknesse light Hâ—r bloud ran to her heart or life to fâ—ed Or lothing to behold so vile a deed And as when VVinter doth the Earth array In siluer-sâ—ite and wheâ— the night and day Arâ— in dissention Night locks vp the ground VVhich by the helpe of day is oft vnbound A shepherds boy with bow and shafts addrest Ranging the fields hauing once pierc'd the brest Of some poore fowle doth with the blow straight rush To â—atch the Bird lyes panting in the Bush So cusâ—â— this striker iâ— vp Marine tooke And hastned with her to a neare-hand Brooke Old Shepherds saine old shepherds sooth haue sainâ— Two Riuers tooke their issue from the Maine Boâ—h neere together and each bent his â—acâ— VVhich of them both should first behold the face Oâ—â—adiant Phoebus One of them in gliding Clime'd on a Veine where Nirâ—â— had abiding The other loathing that her purer Waue Should be defil'd with that the Niter gaue Fled fast away the other follow'd fast Till both beene â—n a Rocke ymeâ— at last As seemed best the Rocke did first deliuer Out of his hollow sides the purer Riuer As if it taught those men in honour clad To helpe the vertuous and suppresse the bad Which gotten loose did softly glide away As men from earth to earth from sea to sea So Riuers run and that from whence both came Takes what she gaue Waueâ— Earth but leaues a name As waters haue their course in their place Succeeding streames will out so is mans race The Name doth still suruiue and cannot die Vntill the Channels stop on Spring grow day As I haue seene vpon a Bridall day Full many Maidâ— clad in their best array In honour of the Bride come with their Flaskets Fill'd full with flowers others in wicker-baskets Bring from the Marish Rushes to o'er-spread The ground where on to Church the Louers tread Whilst that the quâ—intest youth of all the Plaine Vshers their way with many a piping straine So as in ioy at this faire Riuers birth Triton came vp a Channell with his mirth And call'd the neighb'ring Nymphs each in her turne To poure their pretty Riuilets from their Vrne To wait vpon this new-deliuered Spring Some running through the Meadowes with them bring Cowslâ—p and Mint and 't is anothers lot To light vpon some Gardeners curious knot Whence she vpon her brest loues sweet repose Doth bring the Queene of flowers the English Rose Some from the Fenne bring Reeds Wilde-tyme from Downs Some froÌ„ a Groue the Bay that Poets crowns Some from an aged Rocke the Mosse hath torne And leaues him naked vnto winters storme Another from her bankes in meere good will Brings nutriment for fish the Camomill Thus all bring somewhat and doe ouer-spread The way the Spring vnto the Sea doth tread This while the Floud which yet the Rocke vp pent And suffered not with iocund merriment To tread rounds in his Spring came rushing forth As angry that his waues he thought of worth Should not haue libertie nor helpe the pryme And is some ruder Swaine composing ryme Spends many a gray Goose-quill vnto the handle Buries within his socket many a Candle Blot Paper by the quire and dries vp Inke As Xerxes Armie did whole Riuers drinke Hoping thereby his name his worke should raise That it should liue vntill the last of dayes Which finished he boldly doth addresse Him and his workes to vnder-goe the Presse When loe O Fate his worke not seeming fit To walke in equipage with better wit Is kept from light there gnawne by Moathes and wormes At which he frets Right so this Riuer stormes But broken forth As Tauy creepes vpon The Westerne vales of fertile Albion Here dashes roughly on an aged Rocke That his entended passage doth vp locke There intricately mongst the Woods doth wander Losing himselfe in many a wry Meander Here amorously bent clips some faire Mead And then disperst in rils doth measures tread Vpon her bosome 'mongst her flowry ranks There in another place beares downe the banks Of some day labouring wretch here meets a rill And with their forces ioyn'd cuts out a Mill Into an Iland then in iocund guise Suruayes his conquest laâ—ds his enterprise Here digs a Caue at some high Mountaines foot There vndermines an Oake teares vp his rooâ— Thence rushing to some Country-farme at hand Breaks o'er the Yeomans mounds sweepes from his lanâ— His Haruest hope of Wheat of Rye or Pease And makes that channell which was Shepherds least Here as our wicked age doth â—acriledge Helpes downe an Abbey then a naturall bridge By creeping vnder ground he frameth out As who should say he either went about To right the wrong he did or hid his face For hauing
any stirring ayre His eares were strucken deafe when he came nie To heare the Widowes or the Orphans crie His eyes encircled with a bloody chaine With poaring in the blood of bodies slaine His mouth exceeding wide from whence did flie Vollies of execrable blasphemie Baâ—ning the Heauens and he that rideth on them Dâ—â—'d vengeance to the teeth to fall vpon him Like Scythian Wolues or men of wit bereauen Which howle and shoot against the lights of Heauen His hands if hands they were like some dead corse With digging vp his buried ancestors Making his Fathers Tombe and sacred shrine The trough wherein the Hog-heard fed his Swine And as that Beast hath legs which Shepherds feare Ycleep'd a Badger which our Lambs doth teare One long the other short that when he runs Vpon the plaines he halts but when he wons On craggy Rocks or steepy stils we see Noneruns more swift nor easier then he Such legs the Monster had one sinew shrunke That in the plaines he reel'd as being drunke And halted in the paths to Vertue tending And therefore neuer durst be that way bending But when he came on carued Monuments Spiring Colosses and high raised rents He past them o're quicke as the Easterne winde Sweepes through a Meadow or a nimble Hinde Or Satyre on a Lawne or skipping Roe Or well-wing'd Shaft forth of a Parthian bow His body made still in consumptions rife A miserable prison for a life Riot he hight whom some curs'd Fiend did raise When like a Chaos were the nights and daies Got and brought vp in the Cymerian Clime Where Sun nor Moon nor daies nor nights do time As who should say they scorn'd to shew their faces To such a Fiend should seeke to spoile the Graces At sight whereof Fida nigh drown'd in feare Was cleane dismaid when he approched neare Nor durst she call the Deere nor whistling winde her Fearing her noise might make the Monster finde her Who slily came for he had cunning learn'd him And seiz'd vpon the Hinde ere she discern'd him Oh how she striu'd and strugled euery nerue Is prest at all assaies a life to serue Yet soone we lose what we might longer keepe Were not Preuention commonly a sleepe Maids of this Monsters brood be fearefull all What to the Hinde may hap to you befall Who with her feet held vp in stead of hands And teares which pittie from the Rocke commands She sighes and shrikes weeps and looks vpon him Alas she sobs and many a groane throwes on him With plaints which might abate a Tyrants knife She begs for pardon and entreats for life The hollow caues resound her moanings neere it That heart was flint which did not grieue to heare it The high topt Firres which on that mountaine keep Haue euer since that time beene seene to weepe The Owle till then 't is thought full well could sing And tune her voyce to euery bubling Spring But when she heard those plaints then forth she yode Out of the couert of an Iuy rod And hollowing for aide so strain'd her throat That since she cleane forgot her former noat A little Robin sitting on a tree In dolefull noats bewail'd her Tragedie An Aspe who thought him stout could not dissemble But shew'd his feare and yet is seene to tremble Yet Cruelty was deafe and had no sight In ought which might gain-say the appetite But with his teeth rending her throat asunder Besprinkl'd with her blood the greene grasse vnder And gurmundizing on her flesh and blood He vomiting returned to the Wood. Ryot but newly gone as strange a vision Though farre more heauenly came in apparition As that Arabian bird whom all admire Her exequies prepar'd and funerall fire Burnt in a flame conceiued from the Sun And nourished with slips of Cynamon Out of her ashes hath a second birth And flies abroad a wonderment on earth So from the ruines of this mangled Creature Arose so faire and so diuine a featuâ—e That Enuâ— for her heart would doat vpon her Heauen could not chuse but be enamour'd on her Were I a Starre and she a second Spheare I de leaue the other and be fixed there Had faire Arachne wrought this Maidens haire When she with Pallas did for skill compare Minerua's worke had neuer beene esteem'd But this had beene more rare and highly deem'd Yet gladly now she would reuerse her doome Weauing this haire within a Spiders Loome Vpon her fore-head as in glory sate Mercy and Maiesty for wondring at As pure and simple as Albania's snow Or milke-white Swans which stem the streams of Poe Like to some goodly fore-land bearing out Her haire the tufts which fring'd the shoare abouâ— And lest the man which sought those coasts might slip Her eyes like Stars did serue to guide the ship Vpon her front heauens fairest Promontory Delineated was th' Authentique Story Of those Elect whose sheepe at first began To nibble by the springs of Canaan Out of whose sacred loynes brought by the stem Of that sweet Singer of Ierusalem Came the best Shepherd euer flocks did keepe Who yeelded vp his life to saue his sheepe O thou Eterne by whom all beings moue Giuing the Springs beneath and Springs aboue Whose Finger doth this Vniuerse sustaine Bringing the former and the latter raine Who dost with plenty Meads and Pastures fill By drops distill'd like dew on Hormon Hill Pardon a silly Swaine who farre vnable In that which is so rare so admirable Dares on an Oaten-pipe thus meanly sing Her praise immense worthy a siluer string And thou which through the Desart and the Deepe Didst lead thy Chosen like a flocke of sheepe As sometime by a Starre thou guidedst them Which fed vpon the plaines of Bethelem So by thy sacred Spirit direct my quill When I shall sing ought of thy Holy hill That times to come when they my rymes rehearse May wonder at me and admire my Verse For who but one rapt in Coelestiall fire Can by his Muse to such a pitch aspire That from aloft he might behold and tell Her worth whereon an iron Pen might dwell When she was borne Nature in sport began To learne the cunning of an Artizan And did Vermilion with a white compose To mocke her selfe and paint a Damaske Rose But scorning Nature vnto Art should seeke She spilt her colours on this Maidens cheeke Her mouth the gate from whence all goodnesse came Of power to giue the dead a liuing name Her words embalmed in so sweet a breath That made them triumph both on Time and Death Whose fragrant sweets since the Camelion knew And tasted of he to this humor grew Left other Elements held this so rare That since he neuer feeds on ought but Ayre O had I Virgils verse or Tullies Tongue Or raping numbers like the Thracian's Song I haue a Theame would make the Rocks to dance And surly Beasts that through the Desart prance Hie from their Caues and euery gloomy den To wonder at the
beauty once he valued at a rate Beyond Aurora's cheeke when she in pride Promis'd their off-spring should be Deifide Procris she hight who seeking to restore Her selfe that happinesse she had before Vnto the greene wood wends omits no paine Might bring her to her Lords embrace againe But Fate thus crost her comming where he lay Wearied with hunting all a Summers day He somewhat heard within the thicket rush And deeming it some Beast hid in a bush Raised himselfe then set on wing a dart Which tooke a sad rest in the restlesse heart Of his chaste wife who with a bleeding brest Left loue and life and slept in endlesse rest With Procris heauie Fate this Shepherds wrong Might be compar'd and aske as sad a song In th' Autumne of his youth and manhoods Spring Desert growne now a most deiected thing Won him the fauour of a Royall Maid Who with Diana's Nymphes in Forrests straid And liu'd a Huntresse life exempt from feare She once encountred with a â—urly Beare Neare to a Crystall Fountains flowry brinke Heat brought them thither both and both would drink When from her golden Quiâ—er she â—ooke forth A Dart aboue the rest esteem'd for worth And sent it to his side the gaping wound Gaue purple streames to â—oole the parched ground Whereat he gnasht his teeth storm'd his hurt lym Yeelded the earth what it denied him Yet sunke not there but wrapt in horror hy'd Vnto his hellish caue despair'd and dy'd After the Beares iust death the quickning Sunne Had twice six times about the Zodiacke run And as respectlesse neuer cast an eye Vpon the night-inuail'd Cymmerij Wher this braue Swaine approued valorous In opposition of a tyrannous And bloody Sauage being long time gone Quelling his rage with faithlesse Gerion Returned from the stratagems of warres Inriched with his quail'd foes bootlesse scarres To see the cleare eyes of his dearest Loue And that her skill in hearbs might helpe remoue The freshing of a wound which he had got In heâ— defence by Enuies poyson'd shot And comming through a Groue wherein his faire Lay with her brests displai'd to take the aire His rushing through the boughes made her arise And dreading some wilde beasts rude enterprize Directs towards the noyse a sharpned dart That reach'd the life of his vndaunted heart Which when shee knew twice twenty Moones nie spent In teares for him and dy'd in languishment Within an arbour shadow'd with a Vine Mixed with Rosemary and Eglantine A Shepherdesse was set as faire as young Whose praise full many a Shepherd whilome sung Who on an Altar faire had to her Name In consecration many an Anagram And when with sugred straines they stroue to raise Worth to a garland of immortall Bayes She as the learnedst Maid was chose by them Her flaxen haire crown'd with an Anadem To iudge who best deseru'd for she could fit The height of praise vnto the height of wit But well-a-day those happy times were gone Millions admit a small substraction And as the Yeere hath first his iocund Spring Wherein the Leaues to Birds sweet carrolling Dance with the winde then sees the Summers day Perfect the Embrion Blossome of each spray Next commeth Autumne when the threshed sheafe Loseth his graine and euery tree his leafe Lastly cold Winters rage with many a storme Threats the proud Pines which Ida's top adorne And makes the sap leaue succourlesse the shoot Shrinking to comfort his decaying root Or as a quaint Musitian being won To run a point of sweeâ— Diuision Gets by degrees vnto the highest Key Then with like order falleth in his play Into a deeper Tone and lastly throwes His Period in a Diapaâ—on Close So euery humane thing terrestriall His vâ—most height attain'd bends to his fall And as a comely youth in fairest age Enamour'd on a Maid whose parentage Had Fate adorn'd as Nature deck â—her eye Mighâ— at a becke command a Monarchie But poore and faire could neuer yet bewâ—tch A misâ—rs minde preferring â—oule and rich And therefore as a Kings heart left behinde When as his corps are borne to be enshrin'd His Parents will a Law like that dead corse Leauing his heart is brought vnto his Horse Carried vnto a place that can impart No secret Embassie vnto his heart Climbes some proud hill whose stately eminence Vassals the fruitfull vales circumference From whence no sooner can his lights descry The place enriched by his Mistresse eye But some thicke cloud his happy prospect blends And he in sorrow rais'd in teares descends So this sad Nymph whom all commiserate Once pac'd the hill of Greatnesse and of State And got the top but when she gan addresse Her sight from thence to see true happinesse Fate interpos'd an enuious cloud of feares And she with-drew into this vale of teares Where Sorrow so enthral'd best Vertues Iewell Stones check'd griefs hardnes call'd her too-â—oo cruel A streame of teares vpon her faire cheekes flowes As morning dew vpon the Damaske-Rose Or Crystall-glasse vailing Vermilion Or drops of Milke on the Carnation She sang and wept ô yâ—â— Sea-binding Cleeues Yeeld Tributary drops for Vertue grieuesâ— And to the Period of her sad sweet Key Intwinn'd her case with chaste Penelope But see the driâ—ling South my mournfull straine Answers in weeping drops of quickning graine And since this day we can no further goe Restlesse I rest within this Vale of Woe Vntill the modest morne oâ— earths vast Zone The euer gladsome day shall re-inthrone THE FIFTH SONG THE ARGVMENT In Nâ—ats that rocks to pittie moue Ioya sings her buried Loue And from her home of plentie giue Comfort to Truth whom 〈…〉 Repentance house next cals me on With Riots true conuersion Leauing Amintas Loue to Truth To be the Theame the Muse ensâ—'th HErefull of Aprill vail'd with sorrowes wing For louely Layes I dreary Dirges sing Who so hath seene yong Lads to sport themselues Run in a low ebbe to the sandy shelues Where seriously they worke in digging wels Or building childish sorts of Cockle-shels Or liquid water each to other bandy Or with the Pibbles play at handy-dandy Till vnawares the Tyde hath clos'd them round And they must wade it through or else be drown'd May if vnto my Pipe he listen well My Muse distresse with theirs 〈◊〉 paralell For where I whilome sung the loues of Swaines And woo'd the Crystall Currants of the Plaines Teaching the Birds to loue whilst euery Tree Gaue his attention to my Melodie Fate now as enuying my too happy Theame Hath round begirt my Song with Sorrowes streame Which till my Muse wade through and get on 〈◊〉 My griefe swolne Soule can sing of Loue no more But turne we now yet not without remoâ—se To heauenly Aletheius sad discourse That did from Fida's eyes 〈◊〉 exhale When thus she shew'd the Solitarie Vâ—â—e â—ust in the midst this ioy-forsaken ground A hillocke stood with Springs embraced round And with a Crystall Ring did seeme to marry Themselues to this small Ile