Part 12

I of a Shrube of those enquir'd, From others of that kind, Who with such virtue them enspir'd, It answer'd (to my minde).

As the base Hemblocke were we such, The poysned'st weed that growes, Till _Cynthia_ by her god-like tuch, Transform'd vs to the Rose:

Since when those Frosts that winter brings Which candy euery greene, 70 Renew vs like the Teeming Springs, And we thus Fresh are scene.

At length I on a Fountaine light, Whose brim with Pincks was platted; The Banck with Daffadillies dight, With grasse like Sleaue was matted,

When I demanded of that Well, What power frequented there; Desiring, it would please to tell What name it vsde to beare. 80

It tolde me it was _Cynthias_ owne, Within whose cheerefull brimmes, That curious Nimph had oft beene knowne To bath her snowy Limmes.

Since when that Water had the power, Lost Mayden-heads to restore, And make one Twenty in an howre, Of _Esons_ age before.

And told me that the bottome cleere, Now layd with many a fett 90 Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there: Was knowne as blacke as Jet,

As when she from the water came, Where first she touch'd the molde, In balls the people made the same For Pomander, and solde.

When chance me to an Arbour led, Whereas I might behold: Two blest _Elizeums_ in one sted, The lesse the great enfold. 100

The place which she had chosen out, Her selfe in to repose; Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt The very same had chose.

The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore That sweet, nor dainty flower That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore Of CYNTHIAS Summer Bower.

The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay, Like Friends did all embrace; 110 And their large branches did display, To Canapy the place.

Where she like VENVS doth appeare, Vpon a Rosie bed; As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare, Whereon she layd her head.

Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd, And with such bounties blest: No lim of hers but might haue made A Goddesse at the least. 120

The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre, By the bright Radience throwne From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare, They so like Diamonds shone.

The meanest weede the soyle there bare, Her breath did so refine, That it with Woodbynd durst compare, And beard the Eglantine.

The dewe which on the tender grasse, The Euening had distill'd, 130 To pure Rose-water turned was, The shades with sweets that fill'd.

The windes were husht, no leafe so small At all was scene to stirre: Whilst tuning to the waters fall, The small Birds sang to her.

Where she too quickly me espies, When I might plainely see, A thousand _Cupids_ from her eyes Shoote all at once at me. 140

Into these secret shades (quoth she) How dar'st thou be so bold To enter, consecrate to me, Or touch this hallowed mold.

Those words (quoth she) I can pronounce, Which to that shape can bring Thee, which the Hunter had who once Sawe _Dian_ in the Spring.

Bright Nimph againe I thus replie, This cannot me affright: 150 I had rather in thy presence die, Then liue out of thy sight.

I first vpon the Mountaines hie, Built Altars to thy name; And grau'd it on the Rocks thereby, To propogate thy fame.

I taught the Shepheards on the Downes, Of thee to frame their Layes: T'was I that fill'd the neighbouring Townes, With Ditties of thy praise. 160

Thy colours I deuis'd with care, Which were vnknowne before: Which since that, in their braded hayre The Nimphes and Siluans wore.

Transforme me to what shape you can, I passe not what it be: Yea what most hatefull is to man, So I may follow thee.

Which when she heard full pearly floods, I in her eyes might view: 170 (Quoth she) most welcome to these Woods, Too meane for one so true.

Here from the hatefull world we'll liue, A den of mere dispight: To Ideots only that doth giue, Which be her sole delight.

To people the infernall pit, That more and more doth striue; Where only villany is wit, And Diuels only thriue. 180

Whose vilenesse vs shall neuer awe: But here our sports shall be: Such as the golden world first sawe, Most innocent and free.

Of Simples in these Groues that growe, Wee'll learne the perfect skill; The nature of each Herbe to knowe Which cures, and which can kill.

The waxen Pallace of the Bee, We seeking will surprise 190 The curious workmanship to see, Of her full laden thighes.

Wee'll suck the sweets out of the Combe, And make the gods repine: As they doe feast in _Ioues_ great roome, To see with what we dine.

Yet when there haps a honey fall, Wee'll lick the sirupt leaues: And tell the Bees that their's is gall, To this vpon the Greaues. 200

The nimble Squirrell noting here, Her mossy Dray that makes, And laugh to see the lusty Deere Come bounding ore the brakes.

The Spiders Webb to watch weele stand, And when it takes the Bee, Weele helpe out of the Tyrants hand, The Innocent to free.

Sometime weele angle at the Brooke, The freckled Trout to take, 210 With silken Wormes, and bayte the hooke, Which him our prey shall make.

Of medling with such subtile tooles, Such dangers that enclose, The Morrall is that painted Fooles, Are caught with silken showes.

And when the Moone doth once appeare, Weele trace the lower grounds, When _Fayries_ in their Ringlets there Do daunce their nightly rounds. 220

And haue a Flocke of Turtle Doues, A guard on vs to keepe, A witnesse of our honest loues, To watch vs till we sleepe.

Which spoke I felt such holy fires To ouerspred my breast, As lent life to my Chast desires And gaue me endlesse rest.

By _Cynthia_ thus doe I subsist, On earth Heauens onely pride, 230 Let her be mine, and let who list, Take all the world beside.

FINIS.

THE SHEPHEARDS SIRENA

DORILVS in sorrowes deepe, Autumne waxing olde and chill, As he sate his Flocks to keepe Vnderneath an easie hill: Chanc'd to cast his eye aside On those fields, where he had scene, Bright SIRENA Natures pride, Sporting on the pleasant greene: To whose walkes the Shepheards oft, Came her god-like foote to finde, 10 And in places that were soft, Kist the print there left behinde; Where the path which she had troad, Hath thereby more glory gayn'd, Then in heau'n that milky rode, Which with Nectar _Hebe_ stayn'd: But bleake Winters boystrous blasts, Now their fading pleasures chid, And so fill'd them with his wastes, That from sight her steps were hid. 20 Silly Shepheard sad the while, For his sweet SIRENA gone, All his pleasures in exile: Layd on the colde earth alone. Whilst his gamesome cut-tayld Curre, With his mirthlesse Master playes, Striuing him with sport to stirre, As in his more youthfull dayes, DORILVS his Dogge doth chide, Layes his well-tun'd Bagpype by, 30 And his Sheep-hooke casts aside, There (quoth he) together lye. When a Letter forth he tooke, Which to him SIRENA writ, With a deadly down-cast looke, And thus fell to reading it. DORILVS my deare (quoth she) Kinde Companion of my woe, Though we thus diuided be, Death cannot diuorce vs so: 40 Thou whose bosome hath beene still, Th' onely Closet of my care, And in all my good and ill, Euer had thy equall share: Might I winne thee from thy Fold, Thou shouldst come to visite me, But the Winter is so cold, That I feare to hazard thee: The wilde waters are waxt hie, So they are both deafe and dumbe, 50 Lou'd they thee so well as I, They would ebbe when thou shouldst come; Then my coate with light should shine, Purer then the Vestall fire: Nothing here but should be thine, That thy heart can well desire: Where at large we will relate, From what cause our friendship grewe, And in that the varying Fate, Since we first each other knewe: 60 Of my heauie passed plight, As of many a future feare, Which except the silent night, None but onely thou shalt heare; My sad hurt it shall releeue, When my thoughts I shall disclose, For thou canst not chuse but greeue, When I shall recount my woes; There is nothing to that friend, To whose close vncranied brest, 70 We our secret thoughts may send, And there safely let it rest: And thy faithfull counsell may, My distressed case assist, Sad affliction else may sway Me a woman as it list: Hither I would haue thee haste, Yet would gladly haue thee stay, When those dangers I forecast, That may meet thee by the way, 80 Doe as thou shalt thinke it best, Let thy knowledge be thy guide, Liue thou in my constant breast, Whatsoeuer shall betide. He her Letter hauing red, Puts it in his Scrip againe, Looking like a man halfe dead, By her kindenesse strangely slaine; And as one who inly knew, Her distressed present state, 90 And to her had still been true, Thus doth with himselfe debate. I will not thy face admire, Admirable though it bee, Nor thine eyes whose subtile fire So much wonder winne in me: But my maruell shall be now, (And of long it hath bene so) Of all Woman kind that thou Wert ordain'd to taste of woe; 100 To a Beauty so diuine, Paradise in little done, O that Fortune should assigne, Ought but what thou well mightst shun, But my counsailes such must bee, (Though as yet I them conceale) By their deadly wound in me, They thy hurt must onely heale, Could I giue what thou do'st craue To that passe thy state is growne, 110 I thereby thy life may saue, But am sure to loose mine owne, To that ioy thou do'st conceiue, Through my heart, the way doth lye, Which in two for thee must claue Least that thou shouldst goe awry. Thus my death must be a toy, Which my pensiue breast must couer; Thy beloued to enioy, Must be taught thee by thy Louer. 120 Hard the Choise I haue to chuse, To my selfe if friend I be, I must my SIRENA loose, If not so, shee looseth me. Thus whilst he doth cast about, What therein were best to doe, Nor could yet resolue the doubt, Whether he should stay or goe: In those Feilds not farre away, There was many a frolike Swaine, 130 In fresh Russets day by day, That kept Reuells on the Plaine. Nimble TOM, sirnam'd the _Tup_, For his Pipe without a Peere, And could tickle _Trenchmore_ vp, As t'would ioy your heart to heare. RALPH as much renown'd for skill, That the _Taber_ touch'd so well; For his _Gittern_, little GILL, That all other did excell. 140 ROCK and ROLLO euery way, Who still led the Rusticke Ging, And could troule a Roundelay, That would make the Feilds to ring, COLLIN on his _Shalme_ so cleare, Many a high-pitcht Note that had, And could make the Eechos nere Shout as they were wexen mad. Many a lusty Swaine beside, That for nought but pleasure car'd, 150 Hauing DORILVS espy'd, And with him knew how it far'd. Thought from him they would remoue, This strong melancholy fitt, Or so, should it not behoue, Quite to put him out of 's witt; Hauing learnt a Song, which he Sometime to Sirena sent, Full of Iollity and glee, When the Nimph liu'd neere to _Trent_ 160 They behinde him softly gott, Lying on the earth along, And when he suspected not, Thus the Iouiall Shepheards song.

Neare to the Siluer _Trent_, _Sirena_ dwelleth: Shee to whom Nature lent All that excelleth: By which the _Muses_ late, And the neate _Graces_, 170 Haue for their greater state Taken their places: Twisting an _Anadem_, Wherewith to Crowne her, As it belong'd to them Most to renowne her. Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke, Let the Swanes sing her, And with their Musick, 180 Along let them bring her._

_Tagus_ and _Pactolus_ Are to thee Debter, Nor for their gould to vs Are they the better: Henceforth of all the rest, Be thou the Riuer, Which as the daintiest, Puts them downe euer, For as my precious one, 190 O'r thee doth trauell, She to Pearl Parragon Turneth thy grauell. Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke, Let thy Swanns sing her, And with their Musicke, Along let them bring her._

Our mournefull _Philomell_, That rarest Tuner, 200 Henceforth in _Aperill_ Shall wake the sooner, And to her shall complaine From the thicke Couer, Redoubling euery straine Ouer and ouer: For when my Loue too long Her Chamber keepeth; As though it suffered wrong, The Morning weepeth. 210 Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke, Let thy Swanes sing her, And with their Musick, Along let them bring her._

Oft have I seene the Sunne To doe her honour. Fix himselfe at his noone, To look vpon her, And hath guilt euery Groue, 220 Euery Hill neare her, With his flames from aboue, Striuing to cheere her, And when shee from his sight Hath her selfe turned, He as it had beene night, In Cloudes hath mourned. Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke, Let thy Swanns sing her, 230 And with their Musicke, Along let them bring her._

The Verdant Meades are seene, When she doth view them, In fresh and gallant Greene, Straight to renewe them, And euery little Grasse Broad it selfe spreadeth, Proud that this bonny Lasse Vpon it treadeth: 240 Nor flower is so sweete In this large Cincture But it upon her feete Leaueth some Tincture. Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke, Let thy Swanes sing her, And with thy Musick, Along let them bring her._

The Fishes in the Flood, 250 When she doth Angle, For the Hooke striue a good Them to intangle; And leaping on the Land From the cleare water, Their Scales vpon the sand, Lauishly scatter; Therewith to paue the mould Whereon she passes, So her selfe to behold, 260 As in her glasses. Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Ranke, Let thy Swanns sing her, And with their Musicke, Along let them bring her._

When shee lookes out by night, The Starres stand gazing, Like Commets to our sight Fearefully blazing, 270 As wondring at her eyes With their much brightnesse, Which to amaze the skies, Dimming their lightnesse, The raging Tempests are Calme, When shee speaketh, Such most delightsome balme From her lips breaketh. Cho. _On thy Banke, In a Rancke_, &c. 280

In all our _Brittany_, Ther's not a fayrer, Nor can you fitt any: Should you compare her. Angels her eye-lids keepe All harts surprizing, Which looke whilst she doth sleepe Like the Sunnes rising: She alone of her kinde Knoweth true measure 290 And her vnmatched mind Is Heauens treasure: Cho. _On thy Bancke, In a Rancke Let thy Swanes sing her, And with their Musick, Along let them bring her._

Fayre _Doue_ and _Darwine_ cleere Boast yee your beauties, To _Trent_ your Mistres here 300 Yet pay your duties, My Loue was higher borne Tow'rds the full Fountaines, Yet she doth _Moorland_ scorne, And the _Peake_ Mountaines; Nor would she none should dreame, Where she abideth, Humble as is the streame, Which by her slydeth, Cho. _On thy Bancke, 310 In a Rancke, Let thy Swannes sing her, And with their Musicke, Along let them bring her._

Yet my poore Rusticke _Muse_, Nothing can moue her, Nor the means I can vse, Though her true Louer: Many a long Winters night, Haue I wak'd for her, 320 Yet this my piteous plight, Nothing can stirre her. All thy Sands siluer _Trent_ Downe to the _Humber_, The sighes I haue spent Neuer can number. Cho. _On thy Banke In a Ranke, Let thy Swans sing her And with their Musicke 330 Along let them bring her._

Taken with this suddaine Song, Least for mirth when he doth look His sad heart more deeply stong, Then the former care he tooke. At their laughter and amaz'd, For a while he sat aghast But a little hauing gaz'd, Thus he them bespake at last. Is this time for mirth (quoth he) 340 To a man with griefe opprest, Sinfull wretches as you be, May the sorrowes in my breast, Light vpon you one by one, And as now you mocke my woe, When your mirth is turn'd to moane; May your like then serue you so. When one Swaine among the rest Thus him merrily bespake, Get thee vp thou arrant beast 350 Fits this season loue to make? Take thy Sheephooke in thy hand, Clap thy Curre and set him on, For our fields 'tis time to stand, Or they quickly will be gon. Rougish Swinheards that repine At our Flocks, like beastly Clownes, Sweare that they will bring their Swine, And will wroote vp all our Downes: They their Holly whips haue brac'd, 360 And tough Hazell goades haue gott; Soundly they your sides will baste, If their courage faile them not. Of their purpose if they speed, Then your Bagpypes you may burne, It is neither Droane nor Reed Shepheard, that will serue your turne: Angry OLCON sets them on, And against vs part doth take Euer since he was out-gone, 370 Offring Rymes with us to make. Yet if so our Sheepe-hookes hold, Dearely shall our Downes be bought, For it neuer shall be told, We our Sheep-walkes sold for naught. And we here haue got vs Dogges, Best of all the Westerne breed, Which though Whelps shall lug their Hogges, Till they make their eares to bleed: Therefore Shepheard come away. 380 When as DORILVS arose, Whistles Cut-tayle from his play, And along with them he goes.

FINIS.

THE MVSES ELIZIVM

The Description of Elizium

A Paradice on earth is found, Though farre from vulgar sight, Which with those pleasures doth abound That it _Elizium_ hight.

Where, in Delights that neuer fade, The Muses lulled be, And sit at pleasure in the shade Of many a stately tree,

Which no rough Tempest makes to reele Nor their straight bodies bowes, 10 Their lofty tops doe neuer feele The weight of winters snowes;

In Groues that euermore are greene, No falling leafe is there, But _Philomel_ (of birds the Queene) In Musicke spends the yeare.

The _Merle_ vpon her mertle Perch, There to the _Mavis_ sings, Who from the top of some curld Berch Those notes redoubled rings; 20

There Daysyes damaske euery place Nor once their beauties lose, That when proud _Phoebus_ hides his face Themselues they scorne to close.

The Pansy and the Violet here, As seeming to descend, Both from one Root, a very payre, For sweetnesse yet contend,

And pointing to a Pinke to tell Which beares it, it is loath, 30 To iudge it; but replyes for smell That it excels them both.

Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads So angry soone they grow And from their odoriferous beds Their sweets at it they throw.

The winter here a Summer is, No waste is made by time, Nor doth the Autumne euer misse The blossomes of the Prime. 40

The flower that Iuly forth doth bring In Aprill here is seene, The Primrose that puts on the Spring In Iuly decks each Greene.

The sweets for soueraignty contend And so abundant be, That to the very Earth they lend And Barke of euery Tree:

Rills rising out of euery Banck, In wild Meanders strayne, 50 And playing many a wanton pranck Vpon the speckled plaine,

In Gambols and lascivious Gyres Their time they still bestow Nor to their Fountaines none retyres, Nor on their course will goe.

Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt, So proud and wanton made, That they their courses quite neglect: And seeme as though they stayde, 60

Faire _Flora_ in her state to viewe Which through those Lillies looks, Or as those Lillies leand to shew Their beauties to the brooks.

That _Phoebus_in his lofty race, Oft layes aside his beames And comes to coole his glowing face In these delicious streames;

Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues, Whose ripned clusters there, 70 Their liquid purple drop, which driues A Vintage through the yeere.

Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad With Trees of sundry sutes, Which make continuall summer glad, Euen bending with their fruits,

Some ripening, ready some to fall, Some blossom'd, some to bloome, Like gorgeous hangings on the wall Of some rich princely Roome: 80

_Pomegranates_, _Lymons_, _Cytrons_, so Their laded branches bow, Their leaues in number that outgoe Nor roomth will them alow.

There in perpetuall Summers shade, _Apolloes_ Prophets sit, Among the flowres that neuer fade, But flowrish like their wit;

To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres, Tune many a curious lay, 90 And with their most melodious Quires Make short the longest day.

The _thrice three Virgins_ heavenly Cleere, Their trembling Timbrels sound, Whilst the three comely Graces there Dance many a dainty Round,

Decay nor Age there nothing knowes, There is continuall Youth, As Time on plant or creatures growes, So still their strength renewth. 100

The Poets Paradice this is, To which but few can come; The Muses onely bower of blisse Their Deare _Elizium_.

Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers, Free from the rude resort Of beastly people) spend the houres, In harmelesse mirth and sport,

Then on to the _Elizian_ plaines _Apollo_ doth invite you 110 Where he prouides with pastorall straines, In Nimphals to delight you.

The first Nimphall

RODOPE and DORIDA.

_This Nimphall of delights doth treat, Choice beauties, and proportions neat, Of curious shapes, and dainty features Describd in two most perfect creatures._

When _Phoebus_ with a face of mirth, Had flong abroad his beames, To blanch the bosome of the earth, And glaze the gliding streames. Within a goodly Mertle groue, Vpon that hallowed day The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue Their vowes were vsde to pay. Faire _Rodope_ and _Dorida_ Met in those sacred shades, 10 Then whom the Sunne in all his way, Nere saw two daintier Maids. And through the thickets thrild his fires, Supposing to haue seene The soueraigne _Goddesse of desires_, Or _Ioves Emperious Queene_: Both of so wondrous beauties were, In shape both so excell, That to be paraleld elsewhere, No iudging eye could tell. 20 And their affections so surpasse, As well it might be deemd, That th' one of them the other was, And but themselues they seem'd. And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place, Disposed were to play At Barly-breake and Prison-base, Doe passe the time away: This peerlesse payre together set, The other at their sport, 30 None neare their free discourse to let, Each other thus they court,

_Dorida._ My sweet, my soueraigne _Rodope_, My deare delight, my loue, That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me, I to this Bracelet woue; Which brighter euery day doth grow The longer it is worne, As its delicious fellowes doe, Thy Temples that adorne. 40

_Rodope._ Nay had I thine my _Dorida_, I would them so bestow, As that the winde vpon my way, Might backward make them flow, So should it in its greatst excesse Turne to becalmed ayre, And quite forget all boistrousnesse To play with euery hayre.