thee spoile his hart and inward sences A publique passion Natures lawes restrayning And which with words can neuer be declared A soule twixt loue and feare and desperation And endlesse plaint that shuns all consolation A spendlesse flame that neuer is impaired A friendlesse death yet life in death maintayning A passion that is gayning On him that loueth well and is absented Whereby it is augmented A iealousie a burning greefe and sorrow These fauours Louers borrow Of thee fell Loue these be thy recompences Consuming still their soule and inward sences Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Arsileus replie to Syrenus Song O Let that time a thousand moneths endure Which brings from heauen the sweet and siluer showers And ioyes the earth of comfort late depriued With grasse and leaues fine buds and painted flowers Ecchoe returne vnto the vvoods obscure Ring foorth the Sheepheards Songs in loue contriued Let old loues be reuiued Which angry Winter buried but of late And that in such a state My soule may haue the full accomplishment Of ioy and sweet content And since fierce paines and greefes thou doost controule Good Loue doo not forsake my inward soule Presume not Sheepheards once to make you merrie With springs and flowers or any pleasant Song Vnlesse mild Loue possesse your amorous breasts If you sing not to him your Songs doo wearie Crowne him with flowers or else ye doo him wrong And consecrate your Springs to his behests I to my Sheepheardesse My happy loues with great content doo sing And flowers to her doo bring And sitting neere her by the Riuer side Enioy the braue Spring-tide Since then thy ioyes such sweetnes dooth enroule Good Loue doo not forsake my inward soule The wise in auncient time a God thee nam'd Seeing that with thy power and supreame might Thou didst such rare and mighty wonders make For thee a hart is frozen and enflam'd A foole thou mak'st a wise man with thy light The coward turnes couragious for thy sake The mighty Gods did quake At thy commaund To birds and beasts tranformed Great Monarches haue not scorned To yeeld vnto the force of beauties lure Such spoiles thou doost procure With thy braue force which neuer may be tould With which sweet Loue thou conquer'st euery soule In other times obscurely I did liue But with a drowsie base and simple kinde Of life and onely to my profit bend me To thinke of Loue my selfe I did not giue Or for good grace good parts and gentle minde Neuer did any Sheepheardesse commend me But crowned now they send me A thousand Garlands that I wone with praise In wrastling dayes by dayes In pitching of the barre with arme most strong And singing many a Song After that thou didst honour and take hould Of my sweet Loue and of my happy soule What greater ioy can any man desire Then to remaine a Captiue vnto Loue And haue his hart subiected to his power And though sometimes he tast a little sower By suffering it as mild as gentle Doue Yet must he be in liew of that great hire Whereto he dooth aspire If Louers liue afflicted and in paine Let them with cause complaine Of cruell fortune and of times abuse And let not them accuse Thee gentle-Loue that dooth with blisse enfould Within thy sweetest ioyes each liuing soule Behold a faire sweete face and shining eyes Resembling two most bringht and twinkling starres Sending vnto the soule a perfect light Behold the rare perfections of those white And Iuorie hands from greefes most surest barres That mind wherein all life and glory lyes That ioy that neuer dyes That he dooth feele that loues and is beloued And my delights approoued To see her pleas'd whose loue maintaines me heere All those I count so deere That though sometimes Loue dooth my ioyes controule Yet am I glad he dwels within my soule Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ A Sheepheards dreame A Silly Sheepheard lately sate among a flock of Sheepe Where musing long on this and that at last he fell a sleepe And in the slumber as he lay he gaue a pitteous groane He thought his sheepe were runne away and he was left alone He whoopt he whistled and he call'd but not a sheepe came neere him Which made the Sheepheard sore appall'd to see that none would heare him But as the Swaine amazed stood in this most solemne vaine Came Phillida foorth of the vvood and stoode before the Swaine Whom when the Sheepheard did behold he straite began to weepe And at the hart he grew a cold to thinke vpon his sheepe For well he knew where came the Queene the Sheepheard durst not stay And where that he durst not be seene the sheepe must needes away To aske her if she saw his flock might happen pacience mooue And haue an aunswere with a mock that such demaunders prooue Yet for because he saw her come alone out of the vvood He thought he would not stand as dombe vvhen speach might doo him good And therefore falling on his knees to aske but for his sheepe He did awake and so did leese the honour of his sleepe N. Breton FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Ode NIghts were short and dayes were long Blossomes on the Hawthorne hong Philomell Night-Musiques King Told the comming of the Spring Whose sweete-siluer-sounding-voyce Made the little birds reioyce Skipping light from spray to spray Till Aurora shew'd the day Scarse might one see when I might see For such chaunces sudden be By a Well of Marble-stone A Sheepheard lying all a-lone Weepe he did and his weeping Made the fading flowers spring Daphnis was his name I weene Youngest Swaine of Sommers Queene When Aurora saw t' was he Weepe she did for companie Weepe she did for her sweet Sonne That when antique Troy was wonne Suffer'd death by lucklesse Fate Whom she now laments too late And each morning by Cocks crewe Showers downe her siluer dewe Whose teares falling from their spring Giue moisture to each liuing thing That on earth encrease and grow Through power of their friendly foe Whose effect when Flora felt Teares that did her bosome melt For who can resist teares often But she whom no teares can soften Peering straite aboue the banks Shew'd her selfe to giue her thanks Wondring thus at Natures worke Wherein many meruailes lurke Me thought I heard a dolefull noyse Consorted with a mournfull voyce Drawing neere to heare more plaine Heare I did vnto my paine For who is not pain'd to heare Him in griefe whom hart holds deere Silly Swaine with griefe ore-gone Thus to make his pitteous mone Loue I did alas the while Loue I did but did beguile My deere Loue with louing so Whom as then I did not know Loue I did the fayrest boy That these fields did ere enioy Loue I did faire Ganimede Venus darling beauties bed Him I thought the fairest creature Him the quintessence of Nature But yet alas I was deceau'd Loue of reason is bereau'd For since then I saw a Lasse Lasse that did in
thee That Loue dooth so enrich my fill But now behold my cheefest will That faine I would Loue thee more if that I could Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Sireno a Sheepheard hauing a lock of his faire Nimphs haire wrapt about with greene silke mournes thus in a Loue-Dittie WHat chang's heere ô haire I see since I saw you How ill fits you this greene to weare For hope the colour due In deede I well did hope Though hope were mixt with feare No other Sheepheard should haue scope Once to approach this heare Ah haire how many dayes My Dian made me show With thousand prettie childish playes If I ware you or no Alas how oft with teares Oh teares of guilefull brest She seemed full of iealous feares Whereat I did but iest Tell me ô haire of gold If I then faultie be That trust those killing eyes I would Since they did warrant me Haue you not seene her moode What streames of teares she spent Till that I sware my faith so stoode As her words had it bent Who hath such beautie seene In one that changeth so Or where one loues so constant beene Who euer saw such woe Ah haires you are not greeu'd To come from whence you be Seeing how once you saw I liu'd To see me as you see On sandie banke of late I saw this woman sit Where Sooner die then change my state She with her finger writ Thus my beleefe was stay'd Behold Loues mighty hand On things were by a vvoman say'd And written in the sand Translated by S. Phil. Sidney out of Diana of Montmaior ¶ A Song betweene Taurisius and Diana aunswering verse for verse Taurisius THe cause why that thou doo'st denie To looke on me sweete foe impart Diana Because that dooth not please the eye Which dooth offend and greeue the hart Taurisius What woman is or euer was That when she looketh could be mou'd Diana She that resolues her life to passe Neyther to loue nor to be lou'd Taurisius There is no hart so fierce and hard That can so much torment a soule Diana Nor Sheepheard of so small regard That reason will so much controule Taurisius How falls it out Loue dooth not kill Thy crueltie with some remorce Diana Because that Loue is but a will And free-will dooth admit no force Taurisius Behold what reason now thou hast To remedie my louing smart Diana The very same bindes me as fast To keepe such daunger from my hart Taurisius Why doo'st thou thus torment my minde And to what end thy beautie keepe Diana Because thou call'st me still vnkinde And pittilesse when thou doo'st weepe Taurisius Is it because thy crueltie In killing me dooth neuer end Diana Nay for because I meane thereby My hart from sorrow to defend Taurisius Be bold so foule I am no way As thou doo'st think faire Sheepheardesse Diana With this content thee that I say That I beleeue the same no lesse Taurisius What after giuing me such store Of passions doo'st thou mock me too Diana If aunsweres thou wilt any more Goe seeke them without more adoo Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Another Song before her Maiestie at Oxford sung by a comely Sheepheard attended on by sundrie other Sheepheards and Nimphs HEarbs words and stones all maladies haue cured Hearbs words and stones I vsed when loued Hearbs smells words winde stones hardnes haue procured By stones nor words nor hearbs her mind was moued I ask'd the cause this was a womans reason Mongst hearbs are weedes and thereby are refused Deceite as well as trueth speakes words in season False stones by foiles haue many one abused I sigh'd and then she sayd my fancie smoaked I gaz'd she sayd my lookes were follies glauncing I sounded dead she sayd my loue was choaked I started vp she sayd my thoughts were dauncing Oh sacred Loue if thou haue any Godhead Teach other rules to winne a maydenhead Anonimus FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Song a Caroll or Himne for Christmas SWeete Musique sweeter farre Then any Song is sweete Sweete Musique heauenly rare Mine eares ô peeres dooth greete You gentle flocks whose fleeces pearl'd with dewe Resemble heauen whom golden drops make bright Listen ô listen now ô not to you Our pipes make sport to shorten wearie night But voyces most diuine Make blisfull Harmonie Voyces that seeme to shine For what else cleares the skie Tunes can we heare but not the Singers see The tunes diuine and so the Singers be Loe how the firmament Within an azure fold The flock of starres hath pent That we might them behold Yet from their beames proceedeth not this light Nor can their Christalls such reflection giue What then dooth make the Element so bright The heauens are come downe vpon earth to liue But harken to the Song Glorie to glories King And peace all men among These Queristers doo sing Angels they are as also Sheepheards hee Whom in our feare we doo admire to see Let not amazement blinde Your soules said he annoy To you and all mankinde My message bringeth ioy For loe the worlds great Sheepheard now is borne A blessed Babe an Infant full of power After long night vp-risen is the morne Renowning Bethlem in the Sauiour Sprung is the perfect day By Prophets seene a farre Sprung is the mirthfull May Which Winter cannot marre In Dauids Cittie dooth this Sunne appeare Clouded in flesh yet Sheepheards sit we heere E. B. FINIS ¶ Arsileus his Caroll for ioy of the new mariage betweene Syrenus and Diana LEt now each Meade with flowers be depainted Of sundry colours sweetest odours glowing Roses yeeld foorth your smells so finely tainted Calme winds the greene leaues mooue with gentle blowing The Christall Riuers flowing With waters be encreased And since each one from sorrow now hath ceased From mournfull plaints and sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Let Springs and Meades all kinde of sorrow banish And mournfull harts the teares that they are bleeding Let gloomie cloudes with shining morning vanish Let euery bird reioyce that now is breeding And since by new proceeding With mariage now obtained A great content by great contempt is gained And you deuoyd of sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Who can make vs to change our firme desires And soule to leaue her strong determination And make vs freeze in Ice and melt in fires And nicest harts to loue with emulation Who rids vs from vexation And all our minds commaundeth But great Felicia that his might withstandeth That fill'd our harts with sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Your fields with their distilling fauours cumber Bridegroome and happy Bride each heauenly power Your flocks with double Lambs encreas'd in number May neuer tast vnsauorie grasse and sower The Winters frost and shower Your Kids your pretie pleasure May neuer hurt and blest with so much treasure To driue away all sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Of that sweete ioy delight you
faire befall the dainty sweete By that flower there is a Bower where the heauenly Muses meete In that Bower there is a chaire frindged all about with gold Where dooth sit the fairest faire that euer eye did yet behold It is Phillis faire and bright shee that is the Sheepheards ioy Shee that Venus did despight and did blind her little boy This is she the wise the rich that the world desires to see This is ipsa quae the which there is none but onely shee Who would not this face admire who would not this Saint adore Who would not this sight desire though he thought to see no more Oh faire eyes yet let me see one good looke and I am gone Looke on me for I am hee thy poore silly Coridon Thou that art the Sheepheards Queene looke vpon thy silly Swaine By thy comfort haue beene seene dead men brought to life againe N. Breton FINIS ¶ Coridon and Melampus Song Cor. MElampus when will Loue be void of feares Mel. When Iealousie hath neither eyes nor eares Cor. Melampus when will Loue be throughly shrieued Mel. When it is hard to speake and not beleeued Cor. Melampus when is Loue most malecontent Mel. When Louers range and beare their bowes vnbent Cor. Melampus tell me when takes Loue least harme Mel. When Swaines sweete pipes are puft and Trulls are warme Cor. Melampus tell me when is Loue best fed Mel. When it hath suck'd the sweet that ease hath bred Cor. Melampus when is time in Loue ill spent Mel. When it earnes meede and yet receaues no rent Cor. Melampus when is time well spent in Loue Mel. When deedes win meedes and words Loues works doo proue Geo. Peele FINIS ¶ Tityrus to his faire Phillis THE silly Swaine whose loue breedes discontent Thinks death a trifle life a loathsome thing Sad he lookes sad he lyes But when his Fortunes mallice dooth relent Then of Loues sweetnes he will sweetly sing thus he liues thus he dyes Then Tityrus whom Loue hath happy made Will rest thrice happy in this Mirtle shade For though Loue at first did greeue him yet did Loue at last releeue him I. D. FINIS ¶ Sheepheard SWeete thrall first step to Loues felicitie Sheepheardesse Sweete thrall no stop to perfect libertie Hee O life Shee What life Hee Sweete life Shee No life more sweete Hee O Loue. Shee What loue Hee Sweete Loue. Shee No loue more meete I. M. FINIS Another of the same Authour FIelds were ouer-spread with flowers Fairest choise of Floraes treasure Sheepheards there had shadie Bowers Where they oft reposd with pleasure Meadowes flourish'd fresh and gay where the wanton Heards did play Springs more cleare then Christall streames Seated were the Groues among Thus nor Titans scorching beames Nor earths drouth could Sheepheards wrong Faire Pomonaes fruitfull pride did the budding braunches hide Flocks of sheepe fed on the Plaines Harmelesse sheepe that roamd at large Heere and there sate pensiue Swaines Wayting on their wandring charge Pensiue while their Lasses smil'd Lasses which had them beguil'd Hills with trees were richly dight Vallies stor'd with Vestaes wealth Both did harbour sweet delight Nought was there to hinder health Thus did heauen grace the soyle Not deform'd with work-mens toile Purest plot of earthly mold Might that Land be iustly named Art by Nature was controld Art which no such pleasures framed Fayrer place was neuer seene Fittest place for Beauties Queene I. M. FINIS ¶ Menaphon to Pesana FAire fields proud Floraes vaunt why i' st you smile when as I languish You golden Meades why striue you to beguile my weeping anguish I liue to sorrow you to pleasure spring why doo ye spring thus What will not Boreas tempests wrathfull King take some pitty on vs And send forth Winter in her rustie weede to waile my bemoanings While I distrest doo tune my Country Reede vnto my groanings But heauen and earth time place and euery power haue with her conspired To turne my blisfull sweete to balefull sower since I this desired The heauen whereto my thoughts may not aspire aye me vnhappie It was my fault t' imbrace my bane the fire that forceth me die Mine be the paine but hers the cruell cause of this strange torment Wherefore no time my banning prayers shall pause till proud she repent Ro. Greene. FINIS ¶ A sweete Pastorall GOod Muse rock me a sleepe with some sweet Harmonie This wearie eye is not to keepe thy warie companie Sweete Loue be gone a while thou knowest my heauines Beauty is borne but to beguile my hart of happines See how my little flocke that lou'd to feede on hie Doo headlong tumble downe the Rocke and in the Vallie die The bushes and the trees that were so fresh and greene Doo all their dainty colour leese and not a leafe is seene The Black-bird and the Thrush that made the woods to ring With all the rest are now at hush and not a noate they sing Sweete Philomele the bird that hath the heauenly throate Dooth now alas not once affoord recording of a noate The flowers haue had a frost each hearbe hath lost her sauour And Phillida the faire hath lost the comfort of her fauour Now all these carefull sights so kill me in conceite That how to hope vpon delights it is but meere deceite And therefore my sweete Muse that knowest what helpe is best Doo now thy heauenly cunning vse to set my hart at rest And in a dreame bewray what fate shall be my friend Whether my life shall still denay or when my sorrow end N. Breton FINIS ¶ Harpalus complaynt on Phillidaes loue bestowed on Corin who loued her not and denyed him that loued her PHillida was a faire mayde as fresh as any flower Whom Harpalus the Heards-man prayde to be his Paramour Harpalus and eke Corin were Heard-men both yfere And Phillida could twist and spinne and thereto sing full cleere But Phillida was all too coy for Harpalus to winne For Corin was her onely ioy who forc'd her not a pinne How often would she flowers twine how often garlands make Of Cowslips and of Cullumbine and all for Corins sake But Corin he had Hawkes to lure and forced more the field Of Louers law he tooke no cure for once he was beguild Harpalus preuailed naught his labour all was lost For he was furthest from her thought and yet he lou'd her most Therefore woxe he both pale and leane and drye as clod of clay His flesh it was consumed cleane his colour gone away His beard it had not long beene shaue his haire hung all vnkempt A man most fit euen for the graue whom spitefull Loue had spent His eyes were red and all fore-watcht his face besprent with teares It seem'd vnhap had him long hatcht in midst of his dispaires His cloathes were blacke and also bare as one forlorne was hee Vpon his head he alwayes ware a wreath of Willow-tree His beasts he kept vpon the hill and he sate in the Dale
a picture fine deface Which he sometime his fancie to beguile had caru'd on bark of Beech in secret place And with despight of most afflicted minde through deepe dispaire of hart for loue dismaid He pull'd euen from the tree the carued rinde and weeping sore these wofull words he said Ah Phillida would God thy picture faire I could as lightly blot out of my brest Then should I not thus rage in deepe dispaire and teare the thing sometime I liked best But all in vaine it booteth not God wot What printed is in hart on tree to blot Out of M. Birds set Songs FINIS ¶ Melisea her Song in scorne of her Sheepheard Narcissus YOung Sheepheard turne a-side and moue Me not to follow thee For I will neither kill with loue Nor loue shall not kill me Since I will liue and neuer show Then die not for my loue I will not giue For I will neuer haue thee loue me so As I doo meane to hate thee while I liue That since the louer so dooth proue His death as thou doo'st see Be bold I will not kill with loue Nor loue shall not kill me Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ His aunswere to the Nimphs Song IF to be lou'd it thee offend I cannot choose but loue thee still And so thy greefe shall haue no end Whiles that my life maintaines my will O let me yet with greefe complaine since such a torment I endure Or else fulfill thy great disdaine to end my life with death most sure For as no credite thou wilt lend and as my loue offends thee still So shall thy sorrowes haue no end whiles that my life maintaines my will If that by knowing thee I could leaue off to loue thee as I doo Not to offend thee then I would leaue off to like and loue thee too But since all loue to thee dooth tend and I of force must loue thee still Thy greefe shall neuer haue an end whiles that my life maintaines my will Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Her present aunswere againe to him ME thinks thou tak'st the worser way Enamoured Sheepheard and in vaine That thou wilt seeke thine owne decay To loue her that dooth thee disdaine For thine owne selfe thy wofull hart Keepe still else art thou much to blame For she to whom thou gau'st each part Of it disdaines to take the same Follow not her that makes a play And iest of all the greefe and paines And seeke not Sheepheard thy decay To loue her that thy loue disdaines Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ His last replie SInce thou to me wert so vnkinde My selfe I neuer loued for I could not loue him in my minde Whom thou faire Mistresse doo'st abhorre If viewing thee I sawe thee not And seeing thee I could not loue thee Dying I should not liue God wot Nor liuing should to anger mooue thee But it is well that I doo finde My life so full of torments for All kinde of ills doo fit his minde Whom thou faire Mistresse doo'st abhorre In thy obliuion buried now My death I haue before mine eyes And heere to hate my selfe I vow As cruell thou doo'st me despise Contented euer thou didst finde Me with thy scornes though neuer for To say the trueth I ioyed in minde After thou didst my loue abhorre Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Philon the Sheepheard his Song WHile that the Sunne with his beames hot Scorched the fruites in vale and mountaine Philon the Sheepheard late forgot Sitting besides a Christall Fountaine In shaddow of a greene Oake tree Vpon his Pipe this Song plaid he Adiew Loue adiew Loue vntrue Loue Vntrue Loue vntrue Loue adiew Loue Your minde is light soone lost for new loue So long as I was in young sight I was as your hart your soule and treasure And euermore you sob'd and sigh'd Burning in flames beyond all measure Three dayes endured your loue to me And it was lost in other three Adiew Loue adiew Loue vntrue Loue. c. Another Sheepheard you did see To whom your hart was soone enchained Full soone your loue was leapt from me Full soone my place he had obtained Soone came a third your loue to win And we were out and he was in Adiew Loue. c. Sure you haue made me passing glad That you your minde so soone remoued Before that I the leysure had To choose you for my best beloued For all my loue was past and done Two dayes before it was begun Adiew Loue. c. Out of M. Birds set Songs FINIS ¶ Lycoris the Nimph her sad Song IN dewe of Roses steeping her louely cheekes Lycoris thus sate weeping Ah Dorus false that hast my hart bereft me And now vnkinde hast left me Heare alas oh heare me Aye me aye me Cannot my beautie mooue thee Pitty yet pitty me Because I loue thee Aye me thou scorn'st the more I pray thee And this thou doo'st and all to slay me Why doo then Kill me and vaunt thee Yet my Ghoast Still shall haunt thee Out of M. Morleyes Madrigalls FINIS ¶ To his Flocks BVrst foorth my teares assist my forward greefe And shew what paine imperious loue prouokes Kinde tender Lambs lament Loues scant releefe And pine since pensiue care my freedom yoakes Oh pine to see me pine my tender Flocks Sad pyning care that neuer may haue peace At Beauties gate in hope of pittie knocks But mercie sleepes while deepe disdaines encrease And Beautie hope in her faire bosome yoakes Oh greeue to heare my greefe my tender Flocks Like to the windes my sighs haue winged beene Yet are my sighs and sutes repaide with mocks I pleade yet she repineth at my teene O ruthlesse rigour harder then the Rocks That both the Sheepheard kills and his poore Flocks FINIS ¶ To his Loue. COme away come sweet Loue The golden morning breakes All the earth all the ayre Of loue and pleasure speakes Teach thine armes then to embrace And sweet Rosie lips to kisse And mixe our soules in mutuall blisse Eyes were made for beauties grace Viewing ruing Loues long paine Procur'd by beauties rude disdaine Come away come sweet Loue The golden morning wasts While the Sunne from his Sphere His fierie arrowes casts Making all the shadowes flie Playing staying in the Groaue To entertaine the stealth of loue Thither sweet Loue let vs hie Flying dying in desire Wing'd with sweet hopes and heauenly fire Come away come sweet Loue Doo not in vaine adiorne Beauties grace that should rise Like to the naked morne Lillies on the Riuers side And faire Cyprian flowers new blowne Desire no beauties but their owne Ornament is Nurse of pride Pleasure measure Loues delight Hast then sweet Loue our wished flight FINIS ¶ Another of his Cinthia AWay with these selfe-louing-Lads Whom Cupids arrowe neuer glads Away poore soules that sigh and weepe In loue of them that lie and sleepe For Cupid is a Meadow God And forceth none to kisse the rod. God Cupids shaft like destenie Dooth eyther good or ill decree Desert
is borne out of his bowe Reward vpon his feete doth goe What fooles are they that haue not knowne That Loue likes no lawes but his owne My songs they be of Cinthias prayse I weare her Rings on Holly-dayes On euery Tree I write her name And euery day I reade the same Where Honor Cupids riuall is There miracles are seene of his If Cinthia craue her ring of mee I blot her name out of the tree If doubt doe darken things held deere Then welfare nothing once a yeere For many run but one must win Fooles onely hedge the Cuckoe in The worth that worthines should moue Is loue which is the due of loue And loue as well the Sheepheard can As can the mightie Noble man Sweet Nimph t is true you worthy be Yet without loue nought worth to me FINIS ¶ Another to his Cinthia MY thoughts are wingde with hopes my hopes with loue Mount loue vnto the Moone in cleerest night And say as shee doth in the heauens moue On earth so waines and wexeth my delight And whisper this but softly in her eares Hope oft doth hang the head and trust shed teares And you my thoughts that some mistrust doe carry If for mistrust my Mistrisse doe you blame Say though you alter yet you doe not varie As shee doth change and yet remaine the same Distrust doth enter harts but not infect And loue is sweetest seasoned with suspect If shee for this with clowdes doe maske her eyes And make the heauens darke with her disdaine With windie sighes disperse them in the skyes Or with thy teares dissolue them into rayne Thoughts hopes and loue returne to me no more Till Cinthia shine is shee hath done before ¶ These three ditties were taken out of Maister Iohn Dowlands booke of tableture for the Lute the Authours names not there set downe therefore left to their owners FINIS Montanus Sonnet in the woods ALas how wander I amidst these woods Whereas no day bright shine doth finde accesse But where the melancholy fleeting floods Darke as the night my night of woes expresse Disarmde of reason spoyld of Natures goods Without redresse to salue my heauinesse I walke whilst thought too cruell to my harmes With endlesse greefe my heedlesse iudgement charmes My silent tongue assailde by secrete feare My trayterous eyes imprisond in theyr ioy My fatall peace deuour'd in fained cheere My hart enforc'd to harbour in annoy My reason rob'd of power by yeelding care My fond opinions slaue to euery ioy Oh Loue thou guide in my vncertaine way Woe to thy bowe thy fire the cause of my decay S. E. D. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards sorrow being disdained in loue MVses helpe me sorrow swarmeth Eyes are fraught with Seas of languish Haplesse hope my solace harmeth Mindes repast is bitter anguish Eye of day regarded neuer Certaine trust in vvorld vntrustie Flattering hope beguileth euer Wearie old and wanton lustie Dawne of day beholds enthroned Fortunes darling proud and dreadlesse Darksome night dooth heare him moaned Who before was rich and needelesse Rob the Spheare of lines vnited Make a suddaine voide in nature Force the day to be benighted Reaue the cause of time and creature Ere the world will cease to varie This I weepe for this I sorrow Muses if you please to tarie Further helpe I meane to borrow Courted once by Fortunes fauour Compast now with Enuies curses All my thoughts of sorrowes sauour Hopes runne fleeting like the Sourses Aye me wanton scorne hath maimed All the ioyes my hart enioyed Thoughts their thinking haue disclaimed Hate my hopes haue quite annoyed Scant regard my vveale hath scanted Looking coy hath forc'd my lowring Nothing lik'd where nothing wanted Weds mine eyes to ceaselesse showring Former loue was once admired Present fauour is estraunged Loath'd the pleasure long desired Thus both men and thoughts are chaunged Louely Swaine with luckie speeding Once but now no more so friended You my Flocks haue had in feeding From the morne till day was ended Drink and fodder foode and folding Had my Lambs and Ewes together I with them was still beholding Both in warmth and Winter weather Now they languish since refused Ewes and Lambs are pain'd with pining I with Ewes and Lambs confused All vnto our deaths declining Silence leaue thy Caue obscured Daigne a dolefull Swaine to tender Though disdaines I haue endured Yet I am no deepe offender Phillips Sonne can with his finger Hide his scarre it is so little Little sinne a day to linger Wise men wander in a tittle Trifles yet my Swaine haue turned Though my Sunne he neuer showeth Though I weepe I am not mourned Though I want no pittie groweth Yet for pittie loue my Muses Gentle silence be their couer They must leaue their wonted vses Since I leaue to be a Louer They shall liue with thee enclosed I will loath my pen and paper Art shall neuer be supposed Sloth shall quench the watching Taper Kisse them silence kisse them kindly Though I leaue them yet I loue them Though my wit haue led them blindly Yet a Swaine did once approue them I will trauaile soiles remoued Night and morning neuer merrie Thou shalt harbour that I loued I will loue that makes me wearie If perchaunce the Sheepheard strayeth In thy walks and shades vnhaunted Tell the teene my hart betrayeth How neglect my ioyes haue daunted Thom. Lodge FINIS ¶ A Pastorall Song betweene Phillis and Amarillis two Nimphes each aunswering other line for line FIe on the sleights that men deuise heigh hoe sillie sleights When simple Maydes they would entice Maides are yong mens chiefe delights Nay women they witch with their eyes eyes like beames of burning Sunne And men once caught they soone despise so are Sheepheards oft vndone If any young man win a maide happy man is he By trusting him she is betraide fie vpon such treacherie If Maides win young men with their guiles heigh hoe guilefull greefe They deale like weeping Crocodiles that murther men without releefe I know a simple Country Hinde heigh hoe sillie Swaine To whom faire Daphne prooued kinde was he not kinde to her againe He vowed by Pan with many an oath heigh hoe Sheepheards God is he Yet since hath chang'd and broke his troath troth-plight broke will plagued be She had deceaued many a Swaine fie on false deceite And plighted troath to them in vaine there can be no greefe more great Her measure was with measure paide heigh hoe heigh hoe equall meede She was beguil'd that had betraide so shall all deceauers speede If euery Maide were like to me heigh hoe hard of hart Both loue and louers scorn'd should be scorners shall be sure of smart If euery Maide were of my minde heigh hoe heigh hoe louely sweete They to their Louers should prooue kinde kindnes is for Maydens meete Me thinks loue is an idle toy heigh hoe busie paine Both wit and sence it dooth annoy both sence wit thereby we gaine Tush Phillis cease be not so
come The substance of the sights I saw in silence passe they shall Because I lack the skill to draw the order of them all But Venus shall not passe my pen whose maydens in disdaine Did feed vpon the harts of men that Cupids bowe had slaine And that blinde boy was all in blood be-bath'd to the eares And like a Conquerour he stood and scorned Louers teares I haue quoth he more harts at call then Caesar could commaund And like the Deare I make them fall that runneth o're the lawnd One drops downe heere another there in bushes as they groane I bend a scornfull carelesse eare to heare them make their moane Ah Sir quoth Honest Meaning then thy boy-like brags I heare When thou hast wounded many a man as Hunts-man doth the Deare Becomes it thee to triumph so thy Mother wills it not For she had rather breake thy bowe then thou shouldst play the sot What saucie merchant speaketh now sayd Venus in her rage Art thou so blinde thou knowest not how I gouerne euery age My Sonne doth shoote no shaft in wast to me the boy is bound He neuer found a hart so chast but he had power to wound Not so faire Goddesse quoth Free-will in me there is a choise And cause I am of mine owne ill if I in thee reioyce And when I yeeld my selfe a slaue to thee or to thy Sonne Such recompence I ought not haue if things be rightly done Why foole stept forth Delight and said when thou art conquer'd thus Then loe dame Lust that wanton maide thy Mistresse is iwus And Lust is Cupids darling deere behold her where she goes She creepes the milk-warme flesh so neere she hides her vnder close Where many priuie thoughts doo dwell a heauen heere on earth For they haue neuer minde of hell they thinke so much on mirth Be still Good Meaning quoth Good Sport let Cupid triumph make For sure his Kingdome shall be short if we no pleasure take Faire Beautie and her play-feares gay the virgins Vestalles too Shall sit and with their fingers play as idle people doo If Honest Meaning fall to frowne and I Good Sport decay Then Venus glory will come downe and they will pine away Indeede quoth Wit this your deuice with straungenes must be wrought And where you see these women nice and looking to be sought With scowling browes their follies check and so giue them the Fig Let Fancie be no more at beck when Beautie lookes so big When Venus heard how they conspir'd to murther women so Me thought indeede the house was fier'd with stormes and lightning tho The thunder-bolt through windowes burst and in their steps a wight Which seem'd some soule or sprite accurst so vgly was the sight I charge you Ladies all quoth he looke to your selues in hast For if that men so wilfull be and haue their thoughts so chast And they can tread on Cupids brest and martch on Venus face Then they shall sleepe in quiet rest when you shall waile your case With that had Venus all in spight stir'd vp the Dames to ire And Lust fell cold and Beautie white sate babling with Desire Whos 's mutt'ring words I might not marke much whispering there arose The day did lower the Sunne wext darke away each Lady goes But whether went this angry flock our Lord him-selfe doth know Where-with full lowdly crewe the Cock and I awaked so A dreame quoth I a dogge it is I take thereon no keepe I gage my head such toyes as this dooth spring from lack of sleepe Ignoto FINIS IN wonted walkes since wonted fancies change Some cause there is which of strange cause doth rise For in each thing whereto my minde doth range Part of my paine me seemes engraued lies The Rockes which were of constant minde the marke In climbing steepe now hard refusall show The shading woods seeme now my sunne to darke And stately hils disdaine to looke so low The restfull Caues now restlesse visions giue In dales I see each way a hard assent Like late mowne Meades late cut from ioy I liue Alas sweet Brookes doe in my teares augment Rocks woods hills caues dales meades brookes aunswer mee Infected mindes infect each thing they see S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ Of disdainfull Daphne SHall I say that I loue you Daphne disdainfull Sore it costs as I proue you louing is painfull Shall I say what doth greeue mee Louers lament it Daphne will not releeue mee late I repent it Shall I dye shall I perrish through her vnkindnes Loue vntaught loue to cherrish sheweth his blindnes Shall the hills shall the valleyes the fieldes the Cittie With the sound of my out-cryes moue her to pittie The deepe falls of fayre Riuers and the windes turning Are the true musique giuers vnto my mourning Where my flocks daily feeding pining for sorrow At their maisters hart bleeding shot with Loues arrow From her eyes to my hart-string was the shaft launced It made all the woods to ring by which it glaunced When this Nimph had vsde me so then she did hide her Haplesse I did Daphne know haplesse I spyed her Thus Turtle-like I waild me for my loues loosing Daphnes trust thus did faile me woe worth such chusing M. H. Nowell FINIS ¶ The passionate Sheepheard to his loue COme liue with mee and be my loue And we will all the pleasures proue That Vallies groues hills and fieldes Woods or steepie mountaine yeeldes And wee will sit vpon the Rocks Seeing the Sheepheards feede theyr flocks By shallow Riuers to whose falls Melodious byrds sings Madrigalls And I will make thee beds of Roses And a thousand fragrant poesies A cap of flowers and a kirtle Imbroydred all with leaues of Mirtle A gowne made of the finest wooll Which from our pretty Lambes we pull Fayre lined slippers for the cold With buckles of the purest gold A belt of straw and Iuie buds With Corall clasps and Amber studs And if these pleasures may thee moue Come liue with mee and be my loue The Sheepheards Swaines shall daunce sing For thy delight each May-morning If these delights thy minde may moue Then liue with mee and be my loue Chr. Marlow FINIS ¶ The Nimphs reply to the Sheepheard IF all the world and loue were young And truth in euery Sheepheards tongue These pretty pleasures might me moue To liue with thee and be thy loue Time driues the flocks from field to sold When Riuers rage and Rocks grow cold And Philomell becommeth dombe The rest complaines of cares to come The flowers doe fade wanton fieldes To wayward winter reckoning yeeldes A honny tongue a hart of gall Is fancies spring but sorrowes fall Thy gownes thy shooes thy beds of Roses Thy cap thy kirtle and thy poesies Soone breake soone wither soone forgotten In sollie ripe in reason rotten Thy belt of straw and Iuie buddes Thy Corall claspes and Amber studdes All these in mee no meanes can moue To come to thee and be thy loue But
should say I loue ye would you say t is but a saying But if Loue in prayers mooue ye will you not be moou'd with praying Think I think that Loue should know ye will you thinke t is but a thinking But if Loue the thought doo show ye will ye loose your eyes with winking Write that I doo write you blessed will you write t is but a writing But if truth and Loue confesse it will ye doubt the true enditing No I say and thinke and write it write and thinke and say your pleasure Loue and truth and I endite it you are blessed out of measure N. Breton FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards conceite of Prometheus PRometheus when first from heauen hie He brought downe fire ere then on earth vnseene Fond of delight a Satyre standing by Gaue it a kisse as it like sweete had beene Feeling forth-with the other burning power Wood with the smart with shoutes and shrikings shrill He sought his ease in Riuer field and bower But for the time his greefe went with him still So silly I with that vnwonted sight In humane shape an Angell from aboue Feeding mine eyes th' impression there did light That since I runne and rest as pleaseth Loue. The difference is the Satires lips my hart He for a while I euermore haue smart S. E. D. FINIS ¶ Another of the same A Satyre once did runne away for dread with sound of horne which he him-selfe did blow Fearing and feared thus from him-selfe he fled deeming strange euili in that he did not know Such causelesse feares when coward minds doo take it makes them flie that which they faine would haue As this poore beast who did his rest forsake thinking not why but how him-selfe to saue Euen thus mought I for doubts which I conceaue of mine owne words mine owne good hap betray And thus might I for feare of may be leaue the sweet pursute of my desired pray Better like I thy Satire dearest Dyer Who burnt his lips to kisse faire shining fier S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Sunne FAire Nimphs sit ye heere by me on this flowrie greene While we this merrie day doo see some things but sildome seene Sheepheards all now come sit a-round on yond checquerd plaine While from the vvoods we heere resound some come for Loues paine Euery bird sits on his bowe As brag as he that is the best Then sweet Loue reueale howe our minds may be at rest Eccho thus replyed to mee Sit vnder yonder Beechen tree And there Loue shall shew thee how all may be redrest Harke harke harke the Nightingale in her mourning lay Shee tells her stories wofull tale to warne yee if shee may Faire maydes take yee heede of loue it is a perlous thing As Philomele her selfe did proue abused by a King If Kings play false beleeue no men That make a seemely outward show But caught once beware then for then begins your woe They will looke babies in your eyes And speake so faire as faire may be But trust them in no wise example take by mee Fie fie said the Threstle-cocke you are much too blame For one mans fault all men to blot inpayring theyr good name Admit you were vsde amisse by that vngentle King It followes not that you for this should all mens honours wring There be good and there be bad And some are false and some are true As good choyse is still had amongst vs men as you Women haue faultes as well as wee Some say for our one they haue three Then smite not nor bite not when you as faultie be Peace peace quoth Madge-Howles then sitting out of sight For women are as good as men and both are good alike Not so said the little Wrenne difference there may be The Cocke alway commaunds the Heâ—â—â— then men shall goe for mee Then Robbin-Redbrest stepping in Would needs take vp this tedious strife Protesting true-louing In eyther legthened life If I loue you and you loue mee Can there be better harmonie Thus ending contending Loue must the vmpsere be Faire Nimphs Loue must be your guide chast vnspotted loue To such as doe your thralles betyde tesolu ' de without remoue Likewise iolly Sheepheard Swaines if you doe respect The happy issue of your paines true loue must you direct You heare the birds contend for loue The bubling springs do sing sweet loue The Mountaines and Fountaines do Eccho nought but loue Take hands then Nimphes Sheepheards all And to this Riuers musiques fall Sing true loue and chast loue begins our Festuall Shep. Tonie FINIS ¶ Colin the enamoured Sheepheard singeth this passion of loue O Gentle Loue vngentle for thy deede thou makest my hart a bloodie marke With piercing shot to bleede Shoote soft sweete Loue for feare thou shoote amisse for feare too keene thy arrowes beene And hit the hart where my beloued is Too faire that fortune were nor neuer I shall be so blest among the rest That loue shal ceaze on her by simpathy Then since with Loue my prayers beare no boote this doth remaine to ease my paine I take the wound and die at Venus foote Geo. Peele FINIS ¶ Oenones complaint in blanke verse MElpomene the Muse of tragicke songs With mournfull tunes in stole of dismall hue Assist a sillie Nimphe to waile her woe And leaue thy lustie company behind This lucklesse wreathe becomes not me to weare The Poplar tree for tryumph of my loue Then as my ioy my pride of loue is left Be thou vncloathed of thy louely greene And in thy leaues my fortunes written be And then some gentle winde let blow abroade That all the world may see how false of loue False Paris hath to his Oenone beene Geo. Peele FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Consort HArke iollie Sheepheards harke yond lustie ringing How cheerefully the bells daunce the whilst the Lads are springing Goe we then why sit we here delaying And all yond mery wanton lasses playing How gailie Flora leades it and sweetly treads it The woods and groaues they ring louely resounding With Ecchoes sweet rebounding Out of Ma. Morleys Madrigals FINIS