lot To beare such a one Soone as my Younglings cryen for the dam To her will I offer a milke-white Lamb. She is my Goddesse plaine And I her Shepheards Swaine Albe for-swonck and for-swat I am I see Caliope speede her to the place Where my Goddesse shines And after her the other Muses trace With their Violines Bin they not Bay-branches which they doe beare All for Eliza in her hand to weare So sweetly they play And sing all the way That it a heauen is to heare Loe how finely the Graces can it foote to the Instrument They dauncen deffely and singen foote In their merriment Wants not a fourth Grace to make the daunce euen Let that roome to my Lady be giuen She shall be a Grace To fill the fourth place And raigne with the rest in heauen And whether runnes this beuie of Ladies bright Ranged in a roe They beene all Ladies of the Lake behight That vnto her goe Chloris that is the chiefe Nimph of all Of Oliue-branches beares a Coronall Oliues beene for peace When warres doe surcease Such for a Princesse beene principall Bring hether the Pinke and purple Cullumbine With Gillyflowers Bring sweet Carnasions and Sops in Wine Worne of Paramours Strew me the ground with Daffa-down-Dillies And Cowslips and Kings-cups and loued Lillies The pretty Paunce And the Cheuisaunce Shall match with the faire flower-Delice Ye Shepheards daughters that dwell on the greene Hye you there a pace Let none come there but such as Virgins beene To adorne her Grace And when you come where as she is in place See that your rudenesse doe not you disgrace Binde your Fillets fast And gird on your wast For more finenesse with a Tawdrie lace Now rise vp Eliza decked as thou art In royall ray And now ye dainty Damsels may depart Each one her way I feare I haue troubled your troupes too long Let dame Eliza thanke you for her Song And if you come hether When Damzins I gather I will part them all you among FINIS Edm. Spencer ¶ The Shepheards Daffadill GOrbo as thou cam'st this way By yonder little hill Or as thou through the fields didst stray Saw'st thou my Daffadill She 's in a frock of Lincolne-greene The colour Maydes delight And neuer hath her Beauty seene But through a vayle of white Then Roses richer to behold That dresse vp Louers Bowers The Pansie and the Marigold Are Phoebus Paramours Thou well describ'st the Daffadill It is not full an hower Since by the Spring neere yonder hill I saw that louely flower Yet with my flower thou did'st not meete Nor newes of her doest bring Yet is my Daffadill more sweete Then that by yonder Spring I saw a Shepheard that doth keepe In yonder field of Lillies Was making as he fed his sheepe A wreath of Daffadillies Yet Gorbo thou delud'st me still My hower thou did'st not see For know my pretty Daffadill Is worne of none but mee To shew itselfe but neere her seate No Lilly is so bold Except to shade her from the heate Or keepe her from the cold Through yonder vale as I did passe Descending from the hill I met a smerking Bonny-lasse They call her Daffadill Whose presence as a-long she went The pretty flower did greete As though their heads they downe-ward bent With homage to her feete And all the Shepheards that were nie From top of euery hill Vnto the Vallies loud did crie There goes sweet Daffadill I gentle Shepheard now with ioy Thou all my Flock doest fill Come goe with me thou Shepheards Boy Let vs to Daffadill FINIS Michaell Drayton ¶ A Canzon Pastorall in honour of her Maiestie ALas what pleasure now the pleasant Spring Hath giuen place To harsh black frosts the sad ground couering Can we poore we embrace When euery bird on euery branch can sing Naught but this note of woe alas Alas this note of woe why should we found With vs as May September hath a prime Then birds and branches your alas is fond Which call vpon the absent Summer time For did flowres make our May Or the Sun-beames your day When Night and Winter did the World embrace Well might you waile your ill and sing alas Loe Matron-like the Earth her selfe attires In habite graue Naked the fields are bloomelesse are the brires Yet we a Summer haue Who in our clime kindleth these liuing fires Which bloomes can on the briers saue No Ice doth christallize the running Brooke No blast deflowres the flowre-adorned field Christall is cleare but clearer is the looke Which to our climes these liuing fires doth yeeld Winter though euery where Hath no abiding here On Brooks and Briers she doth rule alone The Sunne which lights our world is alwayes one FINIS Edmund Bolton ¶ Milicertus Madrigale VVHat are my Sheepe without their wonted food What is my life except I gaine my Loue My Sheepe consume and faint for want of blood My life is lost vnlesse I Grace approue No flower that saplesse thriues No Turtle without pheare The day without the Sunne doth lower for woe Then woe mine eyes vnlesse they beauty see My Sonne Samelaes eyes by whom I know Wherein delight consists where pleasures be Nought more the heart reuiues Then to embrace his Deere The starres from earthly humours gaine their light Our humours by their light possesse their power Samelaes eyes fed by my weeping sight Infuse my paines or ioyes by smile or lower So wends the source of loue It feedes it failes it ends Kinde lookes cleare to your Ioy behold her eyes Admire her heart desire to tast her kisses In them the heauen of ioy and solace lyes Without them euery hope his succour misses Oh how I liue to proue Whereto this solace tends FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ Old Damons Pastorall FRom Fortunes frownes and change remou'd wend silly Flocks in blessed feeding None of Damon more belou'd feede gentle Lambs while I sit reading Carelesse Worldlings outrage quelleth all the pride and pompe of Citie But true peace with Shepheards dwelleth Shepheards who delight in pittie Whether grace of heauen betideth on our humble mindes such pleasure Perfect peace with Swaines abideth loue and faith is Shepheards treasure On the lower Plaines the thunder little thriues and nought preuaileth Yet in Cities breedeth wonder and the highest hills assaileth Enuie of a forraigne Tyrant threatneth Kings not Shepheards humble Age makes silly Swaines delirant thirst of rules garres greatmen stumble What to other seemeth sorrie abiect state and humble biding Is our ioy and Country glorie highest states haue worse betiding Golden Cups doe harbour poyson and the greatest pompe dissembling Court of seasoned words hath foyson treason haunts in most assembling Homely breasts doe harbour quiet little feare and mickle solace States suspect their bed and diet feare and craft doe haunt the Pallace Little would I little want I where the minde and store agreeth Smallest comfort is not scantie least he longs that little seeth Time hath beene that I haue longed
loues thee not Louely and gentle Mayde Thy hope is quite betrayde which my heart doth greeue Corin is vnkinde to thee Though thou thinke contrarie His loue is growne as light As is his Faulcons flight this sweet Nimph beleeue Mopsus daughter that young mayde Her bright eyes his heart hath strayde From his affecting thee Now there is none but shee that is Corins blisse Phillis men the Virgin call She is Buxome faire and tall Yet not like Phillida If I my minde might say eyes oft deeme amisse He commends her beauty rare Which with thine may not compare He doth extoll her eye Silly thing if thine were by thus conceit can erre He is rauish'd with her breath Thine can quicken life in death He praiseth all her parts Thine winnes a world of harts more if more there were Looke sweet Nimph vpon thy Flock They stand still and now feede not As if they shar'd with thee Griefe for this iniurie offred to true loue Pretty Lambkins how they moane And in bleating seeme to groane That any Shepheards Swaine Should cause their Mistresse paine by affects remoue If you looke but on the grasse It 's not halfe so greene as 't was When I began my tale But is as witherd pale all in meere remorce Marke the Trees that bragd euen now Of each goodly greene-leau'd bow They seeme as blasted all Ready for Winters fall such is true loues force The gentle murmur of the Springs Are become contrary things They haue forgot their pride And quite forsake their glide as if charm'd they stand And the flowers growing by Late so fresh in euery eye See how they hang the head As on a suddaine dead dropping on the sand The birds that chaunted it yer-while Ere they heard of Corins guile Sit as they were afraide Or by some hap dismaide for this wrong to thee Harke sweet Phil how Philomell That was wont to sing so well Iargles now in yonder bush Worser then the rudest Thrush as it were not shee Phillida who all this while Neither gaue a sigh or smile Round about the field did gaze As her wits were in a maze poore despised Mayd And reuiued at the last After streames of teares were past Leaning on her Shepheards hooke With a sad and heauie looke thus poore soule she sayd Harpalus I thanke not thee For this sorry tale to mee Meete me here againe to morrow Then I will conclude my sorrow mildly if may be With their Flocks they home doe fare Eithers heart too full of care If they doe meete againe Then what they furder sayne you shall here from me FINIS Shep. Tonic ¶ The Nimphes meeting their May Queene entertaine her with this Dittie VVIth fragrant flowers we strew the way And make this our chiefe holy-day For though this clime were blest of yore Yet was it neuer proud before O beauteous Queene of second Troy Accept of our vnfained ioy Now th' Ayre is sweeter then sweet Balme And Satyres dance about the Palme Now earth with verdure newly dight Giues perfect signes of her delight O beauteous Queene c. Now birds record new harmonie And trees doe whistle melodie Now euery thing that Nature breedes Doth clad it selfe in pleasant weedes O beauteous Queene c. FINIS Tho. Watson ¶ Colin Clouts mournfull Dittie for the death of Astrophell SHepheards that wont on pipes of Oaten Reede Oft-times to plaine your Loues concealed smart And with your pitteous Layes haue learn'd to breede Compassion in a Country-Lasses hart Harken ye gentle Shepheards to my Song And place my dolefull plaint your plaints among To you alone I sing this mournfull verse The mournfulst verse that euer man heard tell To you whose softned hearts it may impierce With dolours dart for death of Astrophell To you I sing and to none other wight For well I wot my rimes beene rudely dight Yet as they beene if any nicer wit Shall hap to heare or couet them to reade Thinke he that such are for such one 's most fit Made not to please the liuing but the dead And if in him found pitty euer place Let him be mou'd to pitty such a case FINIS Edm. Spencer ¶ Damaetas Iigge in praise of his Loue. IOlly Shepheard Shepheard on a hill on a hill so merrily on a hill so cherily Feare not Shepheard there to pipe thy fill Fill euery Dale fill euery Plaine both sing and say Loue feeles no paine Iolly Shepheard Shepheard on a greene on a greene so merrily on a greene so cherily Be thy voyce shrill be thy mirth seene Heard to each Swaine seene to each Trull Both sing and say Loues ioy is full Iolly Shepheard Shepheard in the Sunne in the Sunne so merrily in the Sunne so cherily Sing forth thy Songs and let thy rimes runne Downe to the Dales to the hills aboue both sing and say No life to loue Iolly Shepheard Shepheard in the shade in the shade so merrily in the shade so cherily Ioy in thy life life of Shepheards trade Ioy in thy loue loue full of glee both sing and say Sweet Loue forme Iolly Shepheard Shepheard here or there here or there so merrily here or there so cherily Or in thy chat either at thy cheere In euery ligge in euery Lay both sing and say Loue lasts for aye Iolly Shepheard Shepheard Daphnis Loue Daphnis loue so merrily Daphnis loue so cherily Let thy fancie neuer more remoue Fancie be fixt fixt not to fleete still sing and say Loues yoake is sweet FINIS Iohn Wootton ¶ Montanus praise of his faire Phaebe PHaebe sate Sweet she sate sweet sate Phaebe when I saw her White her brow Coy her eye brow and eye how much you please me Words I spent Sighs I sent sighs and words could neuer draw her Oh my Loue Thou art lost since no sight could euer ease thee Phaebe sate By a Fount sitting by a Fount I spide her Sweet her touch Rare her voyce touch and voyce what may distaine you As she sung I did sigh And by sighs whilst that I tride her Oh mine eyes You did loose her first sight whose want did paine you Phaebes Flocks White as wooll yet were Phoebes lookes more whiter Phaebes eyes Doue-like mild Doue-like eyes both mild and cruell Montane sweares In your Lamps he will die for to delight her Phaebe yeeld Or I die shall true hearts be fancies fuell FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ The complaint of Thestilis the forsaken Shepheard THestilis a silly Swaine when Loue did him forsake In mournfull wise amid the Woods thus gan his plaint to make Ah wofull man quoth he falne is thy lot to mone And pine away with carefull thoughts vnto thy Loue vnknowne Thy Nimph forsakes thee quite whom thou didst honour so That aye to her thou wert a friend but to thy selfe a foe Ye Louers that haue lost your hearts-desired choyce Lament with me my cruell hap and helpe my trembling voyce Was neuer man that stood so great in Fortunes grace Nor with his sweat
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 heart 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 hew of that great hire Whereto be doth aspire If Louers liue afflicted and in paine Let them with cause complaine Of cruell fortune and of times aâ—â—… And let not them accuse Thee gentle-Loue that doth with 〈…〉 Within thy sweetest ioyes each laâ—… 〈◊〉 Behold a faire sweet face and shining eyeâ— Resembling two most bright and twinkling Sending vnto the soule a perfect light Behold the rare perfections of those wâ—â—â—â— And Iuorie hands from griefes most surest barres That minde wherein all life and glory lyes That ioy that neuer dyes That he doth feele that loues and is beloued And my delights approued To see her pleas'd whose loue maintaines me here All those I count so deere That though sometimes Loue doth my ioyes controule Yet am I glad he dwels within my soule FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ A Shepheards dreame A Silly Shepheard 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 Shepheard sore appall'd to see that none would heare him But as the Swaine amazed stood in this most solemne vaine Came Phillida forth of the Wood and stood before the Swaine Whom when the Shepheard did behold he straight began to weepe And at the heart he grew a cold to thinke vpon his sheepe For well he knew where came the Queene the Shepheard 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 patience moue And haue an answere with a mock that such demanders proue Yet for because he saw her come alone out of the Wood He thought he would not stand as dombe when speech might doe 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 FINIS N. Breton ¶ The Shepheards Ode NIghts were short and dayes were long Blossomes on the Hawthorne hong Philomell Night-Musiques King Told the comming of the Spring Whose sweet-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 chances sudden be By a Well of Marble-stone A Shepheard lying all alone Weepe he did and his weeping Made the fading flowers spring Daphnis was his name I weene Youngest Swaine of Summers 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 heart 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 fairest 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 beauty passe Passe faire Ganimede as farre As Phaebus doth the smallest starre Loue commanded me to loue Fancie bad me not remoue My affection from the Swaine Whom I neuer could obtaine For who can obtaine that fauour Which he cannot grant the crauer Loue at last though loth preuail'd Loue that so my heart assail'd Wounding me with her faire eyes Ah how Loue can subtillize And deuise a thousand shifts How to worke men to his drifts Her it is for whom I mourne Her for whom my life I scorne Her for whom I weepe all day Her for whom I sigh and say Either she or else no creature Shall enioy my loue whose feature Though I neuer can obtaine Yet shall my true-loue remaine Till my body turn'd to clay My poore soule must passe away To the heauens where I hope It shall finde a resting scope Then since I loued thee alone Remember me when I am gone Scarse had he these last words spoken But me thought his heart was broken With great griefe that did abound Cares and griefe the heart confound In whose heart thus riu'd in three Eliza written I might see In Caracters of crimson blood Whose meaning well I vnderstood Which for my heart might not behold I hied me home my Sheepe to fold FINIS Rich. Barnefielde ¶ The Shepheards commendation of his Nimph. VVHat Shepheard can expresse The fauour of her face To whom in this distresse I doe appeale for grace A thousand Cupids flye About her gentle eye From which each throwes a Dart That kindleth soft sweet fire Within my sighing hart Possessed by desire No sweeter life I trie Then in her loue to die The Lilly in the field That glories in his white For purenesse now must yeeld And render vp his right Heauen pictur'd in her face Doth promise ioy and grace Faire Cynthiaes siluer light That beates on running streames Compares not with her white Whose haires are all Sun-beames So bright my Nimph doth shine As day vnto my eyne With this there is a red Exceedes the Damaske-Rose Which in her cheekes is spred Whence euery fauour growes In Skie there is no starre But she surmounts it farre When Phaebus from the bed Of Thetis doth arise The morning blushing red In faire Carnation wise He shewes in my Nimphs face As Queene of euery grace This pleasant Lilly white This taint of Roseate red This Cynthiaes siluer light This sweet faire Dea spred These Sun-beames in mine eye These beauties make me die FINIS Earle of Oxenford ¶ Coridon to his Phillis ALas my heart mine eye hath wronged thee Presumptuous eye to gaze on Phillis face Whose heauenly eye no mortall man may see But he must die or purchase Phillis grace Poore
will reueale My first dayes walke was to the Court where beautie fed mine eyes Yet found I that the Courtly sport did maske in slie disguise For falsehood sate in fairest lookes and friend to friend was coy Court-fauour fill'd but emptie bookes and there I found no ioy Desert went naked in the colde when crouching craft was fed Sweet words were cheaply bought and solde but none that stood in sted Wit was imployed for each mans owne plaine meaning came too short All these deuises seene and knowne made me forsake the Court. Vnto the Cittie next I went in hope of better hap Where liberally I lanch'd and spent as set on Fortunes lap The little stock I had in store me thought would nere be done Friends flockt about me more and more as quickely lost as wone For when I spent then they were kinde but when my purse did faile The foremost man came last behinde thus loue with wealth doth quaile Once more for footing yet I stroue although the world did frowne But they before that held me vp together troad me downe And least once more I should arise they sought my quite decay Then got I into this disguise and thence I stole away And in my minde me thought I said Lord blesse mee from the Cittie Where simplenes is thus betraide and no remorce or pittie Yet would I not giue ouer so but once more trie my fate And to the Country then I goe to liue in quiet state There did appeare no subtile showes but yea and nay went smoothly But Lord how Country-folkes can glose when they speake most vntruely More craft was in a buttond cap and in old wiues raile Then in my life it was my hap to see on Downe or Dale There was no open forgerie but vnder-handed gleaning Whch they call Countrie pollicie but hath a worser meaning Some good bold-face beares out the wrong because he gaines thereby The poore mans backe is crackt ere long yet there he lets him lie And no degree among them all but had such close intending That I vpon my knees did fall and prayed for their amending Back to the woods I got againe in minde perplexed sore Where I found ease of all this paine and meane to stray no more There Citty Court nor Country to can any way annoy me But as a wood-man ought to doe I freely may imploy me There liue I quietly alone and none to trip my talke Wherefore when I am dead and gone thinke on the Wood-mans walke FINIS Shep. Tonie ¶ Thirsis the Shepheard to his Pipe LIke Desert woods with darkesome shades obscured Where dreadfull beasts where hatefull horror raigneth Such is my wounded hart whom sorrow paineth The trees are fatall shafts to death inured That cruell loue within my breast maintaineth To whet my griefe when as my sorrow waineth The ghastly beasts my thoughts in cares assures Which wage me warre while hart no succour gaineth With false suspect and feare that still remaineth The horrors burning sighs by cares procured Which forth I send whilest weeping eye complaineth To coole the heate the helpelesse hart containeth But shafts but cares but sighs horrors vnrecured Were nought esteem'd if for these paines awarded My faithfull loue by her might be regarded FINIS Ignoto An Heroicall Poeme MY wanton Muse that whilome wont to sing Faire beauties praise and Venus sweet delight Of late had chang'd the tenor of her string To higher tunes then serue for Cupids fight Shrill Trumpets sound sharpe swords and Lances strong Warre bloud and death were matter of her song The God of Loue by chance had heard thereof That I was prou'd a rebell to his crowne Fit words for warre quoth he with angry scoffe A likely man to write of Mars his frowne Well are they sped whose praises he shall write Whose wanton Pen can nought but loue indite This said he whiskt his party-colour'd wings And downe to earth he comes more swift then thought Then to my heart in angry haste he flings To see what change these newes of warres had wrought He pries and lookes he ransacks eu'ry vaine Yet finds he nought saue loue and louers paine Then I that now perceiu'd his needlesse feare With heauie smile began to plead my cause In vaine quoth I this endlesse griefe I beare In vaine I striue to keepe thy grieuous Lawes If after proofe so often trusty found Vniust suspect condemne me as vnsound Is this the guerdon of my faithfull heart Is this the hope on which my life is staide Is this the ease of neuer-ceasing smart Is this the price that for my paines is paide Yet better serue fierce Mars in bloudie field Where death or conquest end or ioy doth yeeld Long haue I seru'd what is my pay but paine Oft haue I sude what gaine I but delay My faithfull loue is quited with disdaine My griefe a game my pen is made a play Yea loue that doth in other fauour finde In me is counted madnesse out of kinde And last of all but grieuous most of all Thy selfe sweet loue hath kild me with suspect Could loue beleeue that I from loue would fall Is warre of force to make me loue neglect No Cupid knowes my minde is faster set Then that by warre I should my loue forget My Muse indeed to warre enclines her minde The famous acts of worthy Brute to write To whom the Gods this Ilands rule assignde Which long he sought by Seas through Neptunes spight With such conceits my busie head doth swell But in my heart nought else but loue doth dwell And in this warre thy part is not the least Here shall my muse Brutes noble Loue declare Here shalt thou see thy double loue increast Of fairest twins that euer Lady bare Let Mars triumph in armour shining bright His conquerd armes shall be thy triumphs light As he the world so thou shalt him subdue And I thy glory through the world will ring So by my paines thou wilt vouchsafe to rue And kill despaire With that he whis'kt his wing And bid me write and promist wished rest But sore I feare false hope will be the best FINIS Ignoto ¶ An excellent Sonnet of a Nimph. VErtue beautie and speech did strike wound charme My heart eyes eares with wonder loue delight First second last did binde enforce and arme His works showes sutes with wit grace and vowes-might Thus honour liking trust much farre and deepe Held pearst possest my iudgement sence and will Till wrongs contempt deceite did grow steale creepe Bands fauour faith to breake defile and kill Then griefe vnkindnes proofe tooke kindled taught Well grounded noble due spite rage disdaine But ah alas in vaine my minde sight thought Doth him his face his words leaue shunne refraine For nothing time nor place can loose quench ease Mine owne embraced sought knot fire disease FINIS S. Phil. Sidney ¶ A Report Song in a dreame betweene a Shepheard and his Nimph. SHall we goe daunce the hay The hay Neuer
thing is loue All worldly wealth in worth as farre doth faile As lowest earth doth yeeld to heau'n aboue Diuine is loue and scorneth worldly pelfe And can be bought with nothing but with selfe Such is the price my louing heart would pay Such is the pay thy loue doth claime as due Thy due is loue which I poore I assay In vaine assay to quite with friendship true True is my loue and true shall euer be And truest loue is farre too base for thee Loue but thy selfe and loue thy selfe alone For saue thy selfe none can thy loue require All mine thou hast but all as good as none My small desart must take a lower flight Yet if thou wilt vouchsafe my heart such blisse Accept it for thy prisoner as it is FINIS Ignoto ¶ Colin the enamoured Shepheard singeth this passion of loue O Gentle Loue vngentle for thy deede thou makest my heart a bloodie marke With piercing shot to bleede Shoote soft sweet Loue for feare thou shoote amisse for feare too keene thy arrowes beene And hit the heart where my beloued is Too faire that fortune were nor neuer I shall be so blest among the rest That loue shall ceaze on her by simpathie 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 FINIS Geo. Peele ¶ Oenones complaint in blanke verse MElpomene the Muse of tragicke Songs With mournfull tunes in stole of dismall hue Assist a silly Nimph to waile her woe And leaue thy lustie company behind This lucklesse wreathe becomes not me to weare The Poplar tree for triumph 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 abroad That all the world may see how false of loue False Paris hath to his Oenone beene FINIS Geo. Peele ¶ The Shepheards Consort HArke iolly Shepheards 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 merrie wanton Lasses playing How gaily Flora leades it and sweetly treads it The Woods and Groues they ring louely resounding With Ecchoes sweet rebounding FINIS Out of M. Morleys Madrigals ¶ Thirsis praise of his Mistresse ON a hill that grac'd the plaine Thirsis sate a comely Swaine Comelier Swaine nere grac'd a hill Whilst his Flocke that wandred nie Cropt the greene grasse busilie Thus he tun'd his Oaten quill Ver hath made the pleasant field Many seu'rall odours yeeld Odors aromaticall From faire Astra's cherrie lip Sweeter smells for euer skip They in pleasing passen all Leauie Groues now mainely ring With each sweet birds sonnetting Notes that make the Eccho's long But when Astra tunes her voyce All the mirthfull birds reioyce And are list'ning to her Song Fairely spreads the Damaske Rose Whose rare mixture doth disclose Beauties pensils cannot faine Yet if Astra passe the bush Roses haue beene seene to blush She doth all their beauties staine Phoebus shining bright in skie Gilds the floods heates mountaines hie With his beames all-quickning fire Astra's eyes most sparkling ones Strikes a heate in hearts of stones And enflames them with desire Fields are blest with flowrie wreath Ayre is blest when she doth breath Birds make happy eu'ry Groue She each Bird when she doth sing Phoebus heate to earth doth bring She makes Marble fall in loue Those blessings of the earth we Swaines doe call Astra can blesse those blessings earth and all FINIS W. Browne A defiance to disdainefull Loue. NOw haue I learn'd with much adoe at last By true disdaine to kill desire This was the marke at which I shot so fast Vnto this height I did aspire Proud Loue now doe thy worst and spare not For thee and all thy shafts I care not What hast thou left wherewith to moue my minde What life to quicken dead desire I count thy words and oathes as light as winde I feele no heate in all thy fire Goe change thy bow and get a stronger Goe breake thy shafts and buy thee longer In vaine thou bait'st thy hooke with beauties blaze In vaine thy wanton eyes allure These are but toyes for them that loue to gaze I know what harme thy lookes procure Some strange conceit must be deuised Or thou and all thy skill despised FINIS Ignoto An Epithalamium or a Nuptiall Song applied to the Ceremonies of Marriage Sunne rising AVrora's Blush the Ensigne of the Day Hath wak't the God of Light from Tythons bowre Who on our Bride and Bride-groome doth display His golden Beames auspitious to this Howre Strewing of Flowers Now busie Maydens strew sweet Flowres Much like our Bride in Virgin state Now fresh then prest soone dying The death is sweet and must be yours Time goes on Croutches till that date Birds sledg'd must needes be flying Leade on whiles Phoebus Lights and Hymens Fires Enflame each Heart with Zeale to Loues Desires Chorus Io to Hymen Paeans sing To Hymen and my Muses King Going to Church Bride Boyes Forth honour'd Groome behold not farre behind Your willing Bride led by two strengthlesse Boyes For Venus Doues or Thred but single twin'd May draw a Virgin light in Marriage Ioyes Vesta growes pale her Flame expires As yee come vnder Iunos Phane To offer at Ioues Shrine The simpathie of Hearts desires Knitting the Knot that doth containe Two soules in Gordian Twine The Rites are done and now as 't is the guise Loues Fast by Day a Feast must solemnize Chorus Io to Hymen Paeans sing To Hymen and my Muses King The Board being spread furnish't with various Plenties Dinner The Brides faire Obiect in the Middle plac'd While she drinkes Nectar eates Ambrosiall dainties And like a Goddesse is admir'd and grac'd Bacchus and Ceres fill their veines Each Heart begins to ope a vent And now the Healths goe round Their Bloods are warm'd chear'd are their Braines All doe applaud their Loues Consent So Loue with Cheare is crown'd Let sensuall soules ioy in full Bowles sweet Dishes True Hearts and Tongues accordin ioyfull wishes Chorus Io to Hymen c. Now whiles slow Howres doe feede the Times delay After-Noone Musicke Confus'd discourse with Musicke mixt among Fills vp the semy-circle of the Day Now drawes the date our Louers wish'd so long A bounteous Hand the Board hath spred Supper Lyeus stirres their Bloods a-new All louiall full of cheare But Phoebus see is gone to Bed Sunne set Loe Hesperus appeares in view And twinckles in his sphere Now ne plus vltra end as you begin Yee waste good Howres Time lost in Loue is sin Chorus Io to Hymen c. Breake off your Complement Musick be dombe And pull your Cases o're your Fiddles cares Cry not a Hall a Hall but Chamber-roome Dauncing is lame Youth 's old at twentie yeares Going to Bed Matrons yee know what followes next Conduct the shame-fac'd Bride to Bed Though to her little rest Yee well can comment on the Text And in Loues learning deepely read Aduise and teach the best Forward's the Word y' are all so in this Arrant Wiues giue the Word their Husbands giue the Warrant Chorus Io to Hymen c. Modestie in the Bride Now droopes our Bride and in her Virgin state Seemes like Electra 'mongst the Pleyades So shrinkes a Mayde when her Herculean Mate Must plucke the fruit in her Hesperides As she 's a Bride she glorious shines Like Cynthia from the Sunnes bright Sphaere Attracting all mens Eyes But as she 's Virgin waines and pines As to the Man she ' approcheth neere So Mayden glory dies But Virgin Beames no reall brightnesse render If they doe shine in darke they shew their splendor Chorus Io to Hymen c. Then let the darke Foyle of the Geniall Bed Extend her brightnesse to his inward sight And by his sence he will be easly led To know her vertue by the absent light Youth 's take his Poynts your wonted right Bride Poynts Garters And Maydens take your due her Garters Take hence the Lights be gone Loue calls to Armes Duell his Fight Then all remoue out of his Quarters And leaue them both alone That with substantiall heate they may embrace And know Loues Essence with his outward grace Chorus Io to Hymen c. Hence Iealousie Riuall to Loues delight Sowe not thy seede of strife in these two Harts May neuer cold affect or spleenefull spight Confound this Musicke of agreeing parts But Time that steales the virtuall heate Where Nature keepes the vitall fire My Heart speakes in my Tongue Supply with Fewell Lifes chiefe seate Through the strong feruour of Desire Loue liuing and liue long And eu'n as Thunder riseth gainst the Winde So may yee fight with Age and conquer Kinde Chorus Io to Hymen Paeans sing To Hymen and my Muses King FINIS Christopher Brooke
Coridon the Nimph whose eye doth moue thee Doth loue to draw but is not drawne to loue thee Her beautie Natures pride and Shepheards praise Her eye the heauenly Planet of my life Her matchlesse wit and grace her fame displaies As if that Ioue had made her for his wise Onely her eyes shoot fierie darts to kill Yet is her hart as cold as Caucase hill My wings too weake to flye against the Sunne Mine eyes vnable to sustaine her light My hart doth yeeld that I am quite vndone Thus hath faire Phillis slaine me with her sight My bud is blasted withred is my leafe And all my Corne is rotted in the sheafe Phillis the golden fetter of my minde My fancies Idoll and my vitall power Goddesse of Nimphs and honour of thy kinde This ages Phoenix beauties richest bower Poore Coridon for loue of thee must die Thy beauties thrall and conquest of thine eye Leaue Coridon to plough the barren field Thy buds of hope are blasted with disgrace For Phillis lookes no harty loue doe yeeld Nor can she loue for all her louely face Die Coridon the spoile of Phillis eye She cannot loue and therefore thou must die FINIS S. E. Dyer ¶ The Shepheards description of Loue. Melibeus SHepheard what 's Loue I pray thee tell Faustus It is that Fountaine and that Well Where pleasure and repentance dwell It is perhaps that sauncing bell That toules all into heauen or hell And this is loue as I heard tell Meli. Yet what is Loue I pre-thee say Faust It is a worke on holy-day It is December match'd with May When lustie-bloods in fresh aray Heare ten months after of the play And this Loue as I heare say Meli. Yet what is Loue good Shepheard saine Faust It is a Sun-shine mixt with raine It is a tooth-ach or like paine It is a game where none doth gaine The Lasse saith no and would full faine And is Loue as I heare saine Meli. Yet Shepheard what is Loue I pray Faust It is a yea it is a nay A pretty kind of sporting fray It is a thing will soone away Then Nimphs take vantage while ye may And this is Loue as I heare say Meli. Yet what is Loue good Shepheard show Faust A thing that creepes it cannot goe A prize that passeth to and fro A thing for one a thing for moe And he that prooues shall finde it so And Shepheard this is loue I trow FINIS Ignoto ¶ To his Flockes FEede on my Flockes securely Your Shepheard watched surely Runne about my little Lambs Skip and wanton with your Dammes Your louing Heard with care will tend ye Sport on faire flocks at pleasure Nip Vaestaes flowring treasure I my selfe will duely harke When my watchfull dogge doth barke From Woolfe and Foxe I will defend ye FINIS H.C. ¶ A Roundelay betweene two Shepheards 1. Shep. TEll me thou gentle Shepheards Swaine Who is younder in the Vale is set 2. Shep. Oh it is she whose sweetes doe staine The Lilly Rose the Violet 1. Shep. Why doth the Sunne against his kind Fixe his bright Chariot in the skies 2. Shep. Because the Sunne is strooken blinde With looking on her heauenly eyes 1. Shep. Why doe thy flockes forbeare their food Which sometime were thy chiefe delight 2. Shep. Because they need no other good That liue in presence of her light 1. Shep. Why looke these flowers so pale and ill That once attir'd this goodly Heath 2. Shep. She hath rob'd Nature of her skill And sweetens all things with her breath 1. Shep. Why slide these brookes so slow away Whose bubling murmur pleas'd thine eare 2. Shep. Oh meruaile not although they stay When they her heauenly voyce doe heare 1. Shep. From whence come al these Shepheards Swains And louely Nimphs attir'd in greene 2. Shep. From gathering Garlands on the Plaines To crowne our faire the Shepheards Queene Both. The Sunne that lights this world below Flocks flowers and brookes will witnesse beare These Nimphs and Shepheards all doe know That it is she is onely faire FINIS Michaell Drayton ¶ The solitarie Shepheards Song O Shadie Vale O faire enriched Meades O sacred woods sweet fields rising mountaines O painted flowers greene hearbs where Flora treads Refresht by wanton winds and watry fountaines O all you winged Queristers of wood that pearcht aloft your former paines report And straite againe recount with pleasant moode your present ioyes in sweet and seemely sort O all you creatures whosoeuer thriue on mother Earth in Seas by Ayre by Fire More blest are you then I heere vnder Sunne loue dies in me when as hee doth reuiue In you I perish vnder beauties ire where after stormes winds frosts your life is wun FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ The Shepheards resolution in loue IF Ioue him-selfe be subiect vnto Loue. And range the woods to finde a mortall pray If Neptune from the Seas him-selfe remoue And seeke on sands with earthly wights to play Then may I loue my Shepheardesse by right Who farre excels each other mortall wight If Pluto could by Loue be drawne from hell To yeeld him-selfe a silly virgins thrall If Phaebus could vouchsafe on earth to dwell To winne a rusticke Mayde vnto his call Then how much more should I adore the sight Of her in whom the heauens them-selues delight If Countrie Pan might follow Nimphs in chase And yet through loue remaine deuoide of blame If Satires were excus'd for seeking grace To ioy the fruits of any mortall Dame My Shepheardesse why should not I loue still On whom nor Gods nor men can gaze their fill FINIS Thom. Watson ¶ Coridons Hymne in praise of Amarillis VVOuld mine eyes were christall Fountaines Where you might the shadow view Of my greefes like to these mountaines Swelling for the losse of you Cares which curelesse are alas Helpelesse haplesse for they grow Cares like tares in number passe All the seedes that loue doth sow Who but could remember all Twinckling eyes still representing Starres which pierce me to the gall Cause they lend no more contenting And you Nectar-lips alluring Humane sence to taste of heauen For no Art of mans manuring Finer silke hath euer weauen Who but could remember this The sweet odours of your fauour When I smeld I was in blisse Neuer felt I sweeter sauour And your harmelesse hart annointed As the custome was of Kings Shewes your sacred soule appointed To be prime of earthly things Ending thus remember all Cloathed in a mantle greene 'T is enough I am your thrall Leaue to thinke what eye hath seene Yet the eye may not so leaue Though the thought doe still repine But must gaze till death bequeath Eyes and thoughts vnto her shrine Which if Amarillis chaunce Hearing to make haste to see To life death she may aduance Therefore eyes and thoughts goe free FINIS T. B. ¶ The Shepheard Carillo his Song Guarda mi las Vaccas Carillo por tu fe Besa mi Primero Yo te las guardare I Pre-thee
Praised be her beames the glory of the night Prais'd be her power by which all powers abound Prais'd be her Nimphs with whom she decks the Woods Prais'd be her Knights in whom true honour liues Prais'd be that force by which she moues the floods Let that Diana shine which all these giues In heauen Queene she is among the Spheares She Mistresse-like makes all things to be pure Eternity in her oft change she beares She beauty is by her the faire endure Time weares her not she doth his Chariot guide Mortality below her Orbe is plast By her the vertue of the starres downe slide In her is Vertues perfect Image cast A knowledge pure it is her woorth to know With Circes let them dwell that thinke not so FINIS Ignoto ¶ The Shepheards dumpe LIke desart Woods with darksome shades obscured Where dreadful beasts where hatefull horror raigneth Such is my wounded heart whom sorrow paineth The Trees are fatall shafts to death inured That cruell loue within my heart maintaineth To whet my griefe when as my sorrow waineth The ghastly beasts my thoughts in cares assured Which wadge me warre whilst heart no succour gaineth With false suspect and feare that still remaineth The horrors burning sighs by cares procured Which forth I send whilst weeping eye complaineth To coole the heate the helplesse heart containeth But shafts but cares sighs horrors vnrecured Were nought esteem'd if for their paines awarded Your Shepheards loue might be by you regarded FINIS S. E. D. ¶ The Nimph Dianaes Song VVHen that I poore soule was borne I was borne vnfortunate Presently the Fates had sworne To fore-tell my haplesse state Titan his faire beames did hide Phaebe ' clips'd her siluer light In my birth my Mother died Young and faire in heauie plight And the Nurse that gaue me suck Haplesse was in all her life And I neuer had good luck Being mayde or married wife I lou'd well and was belou'd And forgetting was forgot This a haplesse marriage mou'd Greeuing that it kills me not With the earth would I were wed Then in such a graue of woes Daily to be buried Which no end nor number knowes Young my Father married me Forc'd by my obedience Syrenus thy faith and thee I forgot without offence Which contempt I pay so farre Neuer like was paid so much Iealousies doe make me warre But without a cause of such I doe goe with iealous eyes To my Folds and to my Sheepe And with iealousie I rise When the day begins to peepe At his Table I doe eate In his bed with him I lie But I take no rest nor meate Without cruell iealousie If I aske him what he ayles And whereof he iealous is In his answere then he failes Nothing can he say to this In his face there is no cheere But he euer hangs the head In each corner he doth peere And his speech is sad and dead Ill the poore soule liues ywis That so hardly married is FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Rowlands Madrigall FAire Loue rest thee heere Neuer yet was morne so cloere Sweet be not vnkinde Let me thy fauour finde Or else for loue I die Harke this pretty bubling spring How it makes the Meadowes ring Loue now stand my friend Here let all sorrow end And I will honour thee See where little Cupid lyes Looking babies in her eyes Cupid help me now Lend to me thy bowe to wound her that wounded me Here is none to see or tell All our Flocks are feeding by This banke with Roses spred Oh it is a dainty bed fit for my Loue and me Harke the birds in yonder Groaue How they chaunt vnto my Loue Loue be kinde to me As I haue beene to thee for thou hast wonne my hart Calme windes blow you faire Rock her thou sweet gentle ayre O the morne is noone The euening comes too soone to part my Loue and me The Roses and thy lips doe meete Oh that life were halfe so sweet Who would respect his breath That might die such a death oh that life thus might die All the bushes that be neere With sweet Nightingales beset Hush sweet and be still Let them sing their fill there 's none our ioyes to let Sunne why do'st thou goe so fast Oh why do'st thou make such hast It is too earely yet So soone from ioyes to flit why art thou so vnkinde See my little Lambkins runne Looke on them till I haue done Hast not on the night To rob me of her sight that liue but by her eyes Alas sweet Loue we must depart Harke my dogge begins to barke Some bodie 's comming neere They shall not finde vs heere for feare of being chid Take my Garland and my Gloue Weare it for my sake my Loue Tomorrow on the greene Thou shalt be our Shepheards Queene crowned with Roses gay FINIS Michaell Drayton ¶ Alanius the Shepheard his dolefull Song complaining of Ismeniaes crueltie NO more O cruell Nimph now hast thou prayed Enough in thy reuenge proue not thine ire On him that yeelds the fault is now appayed Vnto my cost Now mollifie thy dire Hardnes and brest of thine so much obdured And now raise vp though lately it hath erred A poore repenting soule that in the obscured Darknes of thy obliuion lyes enterred For it falls not in that that should commend thee That such a Swaine as I may once offend thee If that the little Sheepe with speed is flying From angry Shepheard with his words afrayed And runneth here and there with fearefull crying And with great griefe is from the Flock estrayed But when it now perceiues that none doth follow And all alone so farre estraying mourneth Knowing what danger it is in with hollow And fainting bleates then fearefull it returneth Vnto the Flock meaning no more to leaue it Should it not be a iust thing to receaue it Lift vp those eyes Ismenia which so stately To view me thou hast lifted vp before me That liberty which was mine owne but lately Giue me againe and to the same restore me And that mild heart so full of loue and pittie Which thou didst yeeld to me and euer owe me Behold my Nimph I was not then so wittie To know that sincere loue that thou didst shew me Now wofull man full well I know and rue it Although it was too late before I knew it How could it be my enemie say tell me How thou in greater fault and errour being Then euer I was thought should'st thus repell me And with new league and cruell title seeing Thy faith so pure and worthy to be changed And what is that Ismenia that doth bind it To loue whereas the same is most estranged And where it is impossible to finde it But pardon me if herein I abuse thee Since that the cause thou gau'st me doth excuse me But tell me now what honour hast thou gayned Auenging such a fault by thee committed And there-vnto by thy occasion trayned What haue I done that I haue not
coast he cast so great a light That Phaebus thought it time to make retire From Thetis bower wherein he spent the night To light the world againe with heauenly fire No sooner gan his winged Steedes to chase The Stigian night mantled with duskie vale But poore Amintas hasteth him a pace In deserts thus to weepe a wofull tale You silent shades and all that dwell therein As birds or beasts or wormes that creepe on ground Dispose your selues to teares while I begin To rue the griefe of mine eternall wound And dolefull ghosts whose nature flies the light Come seate your selues with me on eu'ry side And while I die for want of my delight Lament the woes through fancie me betide Phillis is dead the marke of my desire My cause of loue and shipwrack of my ioyes Phillis is gone that set my heart on fire That clad my thoughts with ruinous annoyes Phillis is fled and bides I wote not where Phillis alas the praise of woman-kinde Phillis the Sunne of this our Hemisphere Whose beames made me and many others blinde But blinded me poore Swaine aboue the rest That like olde Oedipus I liue in thrall Still feele the woorst and neuer hope the best My mirth in moane and honey drown'd in gall Her faire but cruell eyes bewitcht my sight Her sweet but fading speech enthrall'd my thought And in her deedes I reaped such delight As brought both will and libertie to nought Therefore all hope of happinesse adiew Adiew desire the source of all my care Despaire tells me my weale will nere renue Till thus my soule doth passe in Charons Crare Meane time my minde must suffer Fortunes scorne My thoughts still wound like wounds that still are greene My weakened limbs be layd on beds of thorne My life decayes although my death 's fore-seene Mine eyes now eyes no more but Seas of teares Weepe on your fill to coole my burning brest Where loue did place desire twixt hope and feares I say desire the Authour of vnrest And would to God Phillis where ere thou be Thy soule did see the sower of mine estate My ioyes ecclips'd for onely want of thee My being with my selfe at foule debate My humble vowes my sufferance of woe My sobs and sighs and euer-watching eyes My plaintiue teares my wandring to and fro My will to die my neuer-ceasing cries No doubt but then these sorrowes would perswade The doome of death to cut my vitall twist That I with thee amidst th' infernall shade And thou with me might sport vs as we list Oh if thou waite on faire Proserpines traine And hearest Orpheus neere th' Elizian springs Entreate thy Queene to free thee thence againe And let the Thracian guide thee with his strings FINIS Tho. Watson ¶ Faustus and Firmius sing to their Nimph by turnes Firmius OF mine owne selfe I doe complaine And not for louing thee so much But that in deede thy power is such That my true loue it doth restraine And onely this doth giue me paine For faine I would Loue her more if that I could Tell me O 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 stood 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 grieu'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 beliefe was stay'd Behold Loues mighty hand On things were by a woman say'd And written in the sand Translated by S. Phil. Sidney out of Diana of Montmaior ¶ A Song betweene Taurisius and Diana answering verse for verse Taurisius THe cause why that thou do'st denie To looke on me sweet foe impart Diana Because that doth not please the eye Which doth offend and grieue 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 Neither to loue nor to be lou'd Taurisius There is no heart so fierce and hard That can so much torment a soule Diana Nor Shepheard of so small regard That reason will so much controule Taurisius How falls it out Loue doth not kill Thy crueltie with some remorce Diana Because that Loue is but a will And free-will doth 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 danger from my hart Taurisius Why do'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 do'st weepe Taurisius Is it because thy crueltie In killing me doth neuer end Diana Nay for because I meane thereby My heart from sorrow to defend Taurisius Be bold so foule I am no way As thou do'st thinke faire Shepheardesse Diana With this content thee that I say That I beleeue the same no lesse Taurisius What after giuing me such store Of passions do'st thou mock me too Diana If answeres thou wilt any more Goe seeke them without more adoo FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Another Song before her Maiestie at Oxford sung by a comely Shepheard attended on by sundry other Shepheards and Nimphs HEarbs words and stones all maladies haue cured Hearbs words and stones I vsed when I loued Hearbs smells words winde stones hardnes haue procured By stones nor words nor hearbs her minde was moued I ask'd the cause this was a womans reason Mongst hearbs are weedes and thereby are refused Deceite as well as truth speakes words in season False stones by foiles haue many one abused I sigh'd and then she said my fancie smoaked I gaz'd she said my lookes were follies glancing I sounded dead she said my loue was choaked I started vp she said my thoughts were dancing Oh sacred Loue if thou haue any Godhead Teach other rules to winne a maydenhead FINIS Anonimus ¶ The Shepheards Song a Caroll or Himne for Christmas SWeet Musicke sweeter sarre Then any Song is sweet Sweet Musicke heauenly rare Mine eares O peeres doth greete You gentle Flocks whose fleeces pearl'd with dewe Resemble heauen whom golden drops make bright Listen O listen now O 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 Christals such reflection giue What then doth make the Element so bright The heauens
me Cannot my beautie moue thee Pitty yet pitty me Because I loue thee Aye me thou scorn'st the more I pray thee And this thou do'st and all to slay me Why doe then Kill me and vaunt thee Yet my Ghost Still shall haunt thee FINIS Out of M. Morleyes Madrigalis ¶ To his Flockes BVrst forth my teares assist my forward griefe And shew what paine imperious Loue prouokes Kinde tender Lambs lament Loues scant reliefe And pine since pensiue care my freedome yoakes Oh pine to see me pine my tender Flockes Sad pining care that neuer may haue peace At Beauties gate in hope of pittie knocks But mercie sleepes while deepe disdaines encrease And Beautie hope is her faire bosome yoakes Oh grieue to heare my griefe my tender Flockes Like to the windes my sighs haue winged beene Yet are my sighs and sutes repaide with mockes I pleade yet she repineth at my teene O ruthlesse rigour harder then the Rockes That both the Shepheard kills and his poore Flockes 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 Doe 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 Cynthia 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 destinie Doth either 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 Cynthias praise I weare her Rings on Holy-dayes On euery Tree I write her name And euery day I reade the same Where Honour Cupids riuall is There miracles are seene of his If Cynthia craue her Ring of mee I blot her name out of the tree If doubt doe darken things held deere Then wel-fare nothing once a yeere For many runne but one must win Fooles onely hedge the Cuckoe in The worth that worthinesse should moue Is loue which is the due of loue And loue as well the Shepheard 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 Cynthia MY thoughts are wing'd with hopes my hopes with loue Mount loue vnto the Moon in clearest night And say as she 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 carrie If for mistrust my Mistresse doe you blame Say though you alter yet you doe not varie As she doth change and yet remaine the same Distrust doth enter hearts but not infect And loue is sweetest seasoned with suspect If she for this with cloudes doe maske her eyes And make the heauens darke with her disdaine With windie sighs dispierce them in the skies Or with thy teares dissolue them into raine Thoughts hopes and loue returne to me no more Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before FINIS ¶ These three Ditties were taken out of Maister Iohn Dowlands Booke of Tableture for the Lute the Authours names not there set downe and therefore left to their owners 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 Disarm'd of reason spoyl'd of Natures goods Without redresse to salue my heauinesse I walke whilst thought too cruell to my harmes with endlesse griefe my heedlesse iudgement charmes My silent tongue assail'd by secret feare My trayterous eyes imprison'd in their ioy My fatall peace deuour'd in fained cheere My heart 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 FINIS S. E. D. ¶ The Shepheards sorrow being disdained in loue MVses help 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 world vntrustie Flattering hope beguileth euer Wearie old and wanton lustie Dawne of day beholds enthroned Fortunes darling proud and dreadlesse Darksome night doth heare him moaned Who before was rich and needlesse 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 help 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 heart enioyed Thoughts their thinking haue disclaimed Hate my hopes haue quite annoyed Scant regard my weale 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 changed 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 Drinke 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 Lambes 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
was broken But I who daily crauing Cannot haue to content me Haue more cause to lament me Sith wanting is more woe then too much hauing Oh Philomela faire oh take some gladnes That heere is iuster cause of plaintfull sadnes Thine earth now springs mine fadeth Thy thorne without my thorne my hart inuadeth FINIS S. Phil. Sidney An Inuectiue against Loue. ALL is not golde that shineth bright in show Not euery flowre so good as faire to sight The deepest streames aboue doe calmest flow And strongest poisons oft the taste delight The pleasant baite doth hide the harmfull hooke And false deceit can lend a friendly looke Loue is the gold whose outward hew doth passe Whose first beginnings goodly promise make Of pleasures faire and fresh as Sommers grasse Which neither Sunne can parch nor winde can shake But when the mould should in the fire be tride The gold is gone the drosse doth still abide Beautie the flowre so fresh so faire so gay So sweet to smell so soft to touch and tast As seemes it should endure by right for aye And neuer be with any storme defast But when the baleful Southerne wind doth blow Gone is the glory which it erst did shew Loue is the streame whose waues so calmely flow As might intice mens minds to wade therein Loue is the poison mixt with sugar so As might by outward sweetnesse liking win But as the deepe ore'flowing stops thy breath So poyson once receiu'd brings certaine death Loue is the baite whose taste the fish deceiues And makes them swallow downe the choking hooke Loue is the face whose fairenesse iudgement reaues And makes thee trust a false and fained looke But as the hooke the foolish fish doth kill So flatt'ring lookes the louers life doth spill FINIS ¶ Faire Phillis and her Shepheard SHepheard saw you not my faire louely Phillis Walking on this Mountaine or on yonder plaine She is gone this way to Dianaes Fountaine and hath left me wounded with her high disdaine Aye me she is faire And without compare Sorrow come and sit with me Loue is full of feares Loue is full of teares Loue without these cannot be Thus my passions paine me For my loue hath slaine me Gentle Shepheard beare a part Pray to Cupids mother For I know no other that can helpe to ease my smart Shepheard I haue seene thy faire louely Phillis Where her flocks are feeding by the Riuers side Oh I much admire she so farre exceeding In surpassing beautie should surpasse in pride But alas I finde They are all vnkinde Beautie knowes her power too well When they list they loue When they please they moue thus they turne our heauen to hell For their faire eyes glauncing Like to Cupids dauncing roule about still to deceaue vs With vaine hopes deluding Still dispraise concluding Now they loue and now they leaue vs. Thus I doe despaire haue her I shall neuer If shee be so coy lost is all my loue But she is so faire I must loue her euer All my paine is ioy which for her I proue If I should her trie And she should denie heauie hart with woe will breake Though against my will Tongue thou must be still for she will not heare thee speake Then with sighs goe proue her Let them shew I loue her gracious Venus be my guide But though I complaine me She will still disdaine mee beautie is so full of pride What though she be faire speake and feare not speeding Be shee nere so coy yet she may be wunne Vnto her repaire where her Flocks are feeding Sit and tick and toy till set be the Sunne Sunne then being set Feare not Vulcanes net though that Mars therein was caught If she doe denie Thus to her replie Venus lawes she must be taught Then with kisses mooue her That 's the way to proue her thus thy Phillis must be wone She will not forsake thee But her Loue will make thee When Loues dutie once is done Happie shall I be If she graunt me fauour Else for loue I die Phillis is so faire Boldly then goe see thou maist quickly haue her Though she could denie yet doe not despaire She is full of pride Venus be my guide helpe a silly Shepheards speed Vse no such delay Shepheard goe thy way venture man and doe the deed I will sore complaine me Say that loue hath slaine thee if her fauours doe not feede But take no deniall Stand vpon thy triall spare to speake and want of speede FINIS I. G. ¶ The Shepheards Song of Venus and Adonis VEnus faire did ride siluer Doues they drew her By the pleasant lawnds ere the Sunne did rise Vestaes beautie rich opened wide to view her Philomel records pleasing Harmonies Euery bird of spring cheerefully did sing Paphos Goddesse they salute Birds and beasts my lawes effect Mirrha thy faire mother most of any other did my louely hests respect Be with me delighted Thou shalt be requited euery Nimph on thee shall tend All the Gods shall loue thee Man shall not reproue thee Loue himselfe shall be thy friend Wend thee from me Venus I am not disposed Thou wring'st me too hard pre-thee let me goe Fie what a paine it is thus to be enclosed If loue begin with labour it will end in woe kisse me I will leaue here a kisse receiue a short kisse I doe it finde Wilt thou leaue me so yet thou shalt not goe breathe once more thy balmie wind It smelleth of the Mirth-tree That to the world did bring thee neuer was perfume so sweet When she had thus spoken She gaue him a token and their naked bosomes meet Now he said let 's goe harke the Hounds are crying Grisly Boare is vp Hunts-men follow fast At the name of Boare Venus seemed dying Deadly coloured pale Roses ouer-cast Speake said she no more of following the Boare thou vnfit for such a chase Course the fearefull Hare Venson doe not spare if thou wilt yeeld Venus grace Shun the Boare I pray thee Else I still will stay thee herein he vow'd to please her mind Then her armes enlarged Loth she him discharged forth he went as swift as wind Thetis Phoebus Steedes in the West retained Hunting sport was past Loue her loue did seeke Sight of him too soone gentle Queene she gained On the ground he lay blood had left his cheeke For an orped Swine smit him in the groyne deadly wound his death did bring Which when Venus found she fell in a swound and awak'd her hands did wring Nimphs and Satyres skipping Came together tripping Eccho euery crie exprest Venus by her power Turn'd him to a flower which she weareth in her creast FINIS H. C. ¶ Thirsis the Shepheard his deaths Song THirsis to die desired marking her eyes that to his heart was neerest And she that with his flame no lesse was fired said to him Oh heart's loue deerest Alas forbeare to die now By thee I liue by thee I wish to die to Thirsis that heate refrained wherewith to die poore Louer then he hasted Thinking it death while he his lookes maintained full fixed on her eyes full
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 brooks answer mee Infected mindes infect each thing they see FINIS S. Phil. Sidney ¶ Of disdainefull Daphne SHall I say that I loue you Daphne disdainfull Sore it costs as I proue you louing is painefull Shall I say what doth grieue me Louers lament it Daphne will not relieue me late I repent it Shall I die shall I perish through her vnkindnesse Loue vntaught loue to cherish sheweth his blindnesse Shall the hills shall the valleyes the fields the Citie With the sound of my out-cries moue her to pittie The deepe falls of faire Riuers and the windes turning Are the true Musicke giuers vnto my mourning Where my Flockes daily feeding pining for sorrow At their Maisters heart bleeding shot with Loues arrow From her eyes to my heart-string was the shaft launced It made all the Woods to ring by which it glaunced When this Nimph had vs'd me so then she did hide her Haplesse I did Daphne know haplesse I spied her Thus Turtle-like I wail'd me for my Loues loosing Daphnes trust thus did faile me woe worth such choosing FINIS M. N. Howell ¶ The passionate Shepheard to his Loue. COme liue with me and be my Loue And we will all the pleasures proue That Vallies Groues hills and fields Woods or steepie mountaines yeelds And we will sit vpon the Rockes Seeing the Shepheards feede their Flockes By shallow Riuers to whose falls Melodious birds sings Madrigalls And I will make thee beds of Roses And a thousand fragrant poesies A cap of flowers and a kirtle Imbroydered all with leaues of Mirtle A gowne made of the finest wooll Which from our pretty Lambs we pull Faire 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 me and be my Loue. The Shepheard Swaines shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning If these delights thy minde may moue Then liue with me and be my Loue. FINIS Chr. Marlow ¶ The Nimphs reply to the Shepheard IF all the world and loue were young And truth in euery Shepheards tongue These pretty pleasures might me moue To liue with thee and be thy Loue. Time driues the Flockes from field to fold When Riuers rage and Rockes grow cold And Philomell becommeth dombe The rest complaines of cares to come The flowers doe fade and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yeelds A hony tongue a heart of gall Is fancies spring but sorrowes fall Thy gownes thy shooes thy beds of Roses Thy cap thy kirtle and thy posies Soone breake soone wither soone forgotten In folly ripe in reason rotten Thy belt of straw and Iuie buds Thy Corall claspes and Amber studs All these in me no meanes can moue To come to thee and be thy Loue. But could youth last and loue still breede Had ioyes no date nor age no neede Then these delights my minde might moue To liue with thee and be thy Loue. FINIS Ignoto ¶ Another of the same nature made since COme liue with me and be my deere And we will reuell all the yeere In plaines and groues on hills and dales Where fragrant ayre breedes sweetest gales There shall you haue the beauteous Pine The Cedar and the spreading Vine And all the woods to be a Skreene Least Phoebus kisse my Sommers Queene The seate for your disport shall be Ouer some Riuer in a tree Where siluer sands and pebbles sing Eternall ditties with the spring There shall you see the Nimphs at play And how the Satires spend the day The fishes gliding on the sands Offering their bellies to your hands The birds with heauenly tuned throtes Possesse woods Ecchoes with sweet notes Which to your senses will impart A musique to enflame the hart Vpon the bare and leafe-lesse Oake The Ring-Doues woings will prouoke A colder blood then you possesse To play with me and doe no lesse In bowers of Laurell trimly dight We will out-weare the silent night While Flora busie is to spread Her richest treasure on our bed Ten thousand Glow-wormes shall attend And all their sparkling lights shall spend All to adorne and beautifie Your lodging with most maiestie Then in mine armes will I enclose Lillies faire mixture with the Rose Whose nice perfections in loues play Shall tune me to the highest key Thus as we passe the welcome night In sportfull pleasures and delight The nimble Fairies on the grounds Shall daunce and sing mellodious sounds If these may serue for to entice Your presence to Loues Paradice Then come with me and be my deare And we will strait begin the yeare FINIS Ignoto ¶ Two Pastorals vpon three friends meeting IOyne mates in mirth to me Grant pleasure to our meeting Let Pan our good God see How gratefull is our greeting Ioyne hearts and hands so let it be Make but one minde in bodies three Ye Hymnes and singing skill Of God Apolloes giuing Be prest our reeds to fill With sound of musicke liuing Ioyne hearts and hands c. Sweet Orpheus Harpe whose sound The stedfast mountaines moued Let here thy skill abound To ioyne sweet friends beloued Ioyne hearts and hands c. My two and I be met A happy blessed Trinitie As three most ioyntly set In firmest hand of vnitie Ioyne hearts and hands c. Welcome my two to me E.D. F.G. P.S. The number best beloued Within my heart you be In friendship vnremoued Ioyne hands c. Giue leaue your flocks to range Let vs the while be playing Within the Elmy grange Your flocks will not be straying Ioyne hands c. Cause all the mirth you can Since I am now come hither Who neuer ioy but when I am with you together Ioyne hands c. Like louers doe their loue So ioy I in your seeing Let nothing me remoue From alwaies with you being Ioyne hands c. And as the turtle Doue To mate with whom he liueth Such comfort feruent loue Of you to my heart giueth Ioyne hands c. Now ioyned be our hands Let them be ne're asunder But linkt in binding bands By metamorphoz'd wonder So should our seuered bodies three As one for euer ioyned be FINIS S. Phil. Sidney The wood-mans walke THrough a faire Forrest as I went vpon a Sommers day I met a Wood-man quaint and gent yet in a strange aray I maruail'd much at his disguise whom I did know so well But thus in tearmes both graue and wise his minde he gan to tell Friend muse not at this fond aray but list a while to me For it hath holpe me to suruay what I shall shew to thee Long liu'd I in this Forrest faire till wearie of my weale Abroad in walkes I would repaire as now I
foolish I to like of folly To conuerse where honour thronged to my pleasures linked wholy Now I see and seeing sorrow that the day consum'd returnes not Who dare trust vpon to morrow when nor time nor life soiournes not FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ Perigot and Cuddies Roundelay IT fell vpon a holy-Eue hey hoe holy-day When holy-Fathers wont to shriue now ginneth this Roundelay Sitting vpon a hill so hie hey hoe the high hill The while my Flock did feede thereby the while the Shepheards selfe did spill I saw the bouncing Belly-bone hey hoe Bonny-bell Tripping ouer the Dale alone she can trip it very well Well decked in a Frock of gray hey hoe gray is greete And in a Kirtle of greene Say the greene is for Maydens meete A Chaplet on her head she wore hey hoe the Chaplet Of sweet Violets therein was store she 's sweeter then the Violet My Sheepe did leaue their wonted food hey hoe silly Sheepe And gaz'd on her as they were wood wood as he that did them keepe As the Bonny-lasse passed by hey hoe Bonny-lasse She rol'd at me with glauncing eye as cleare as the Christall-glasse All as the Sunnie-beame so bright hey hoe the Sun-beame Glaunceth from Phoebus face forth-right so loue into my heart did streame Or as the thunder cleaues the clouds hey hoe the thunder Wherein the lightsome leuin shrouds so cleaues my soule asunder Or as Dame Cynthias siluer ray hey hoe the Moone-light Vpon the glistering waue doth play such play is a pitteous plight The glaunce into my heart did glide hey hoe the glider There-with my soule was sharply gride such wounds soone wexen wider Hasting to raunch the arrow out hey hoe Perigot I left the head in my heart roote it was a desperate shot There it rankleth aye more and more hey hoe the arrow Ne can I finde salue for my sore loue is a curelesse sorrow And though my bale with death I bought hey hoe heauie cheere Yet should thilke Lasse not from my thought so you may buy gold too deere But whether in painefull loue I pine hey hoe pinching paine Or thriue in wealth she shall be mine but if thou can her obtaine And if for gracelesse griefe I dye hey hoe gracelesse griefe Witnesse she slew me with her eye let thy folly be the preefe And you that saw it simple sheepe hey hoe the faire Flocke For priefe thereof my death shall weepe and moane with many a mocke So learn'd I loue on a holy-Eue hey hoe holy-day That euer since my heart did grieue now endeth our Roundelay FINIS Edm. Spencer ¶ Phillida and Coridon IN the merry month of May In a morne by breake of day Forth I walked by the Wood-side When as May was in his pride There I spied all alone Phillida and Coridon Much a-doo there was God wot He would loue and she would not She said neuer man was true He said none was false to you He said he had lou'd her long She said Loue should haue no wrong Coridon would kisse her then She said Maides must kisse no men Till they did for good and all Then she made the Shepheard call All the heauens to witnesse truth Neuer lou'd a truer Youth Thus with many a pretty oath Yea and nay and faith and troath Such as silly Shepheards vse When they will not Loue abuse Loue which had beene long deluded Was with kisses sweet concluded And Phillida with garlands gay Was made the Lady of the May. FINIS N. Breton ¶ To Colin Cloute. BEautie sate bathing by a Spring where fairest shades did hide her The windes blew calme the birds did sing the coole streames ranne beside her My wanton thoughts entic'd mine eye to see what was forbidden But better Memory said fie so vaine Desire was chidden Hey nonnie nonnie c. Into a slumber then I fell when fond imagination Seemed to see but could not tell her feature or her fashion But euen as Babes in dreames doe smile and sometime fall a weeping So I awakt as wise this while as when I fell a sleeping Hey nonnie nonnie c. FINIS Shepheard Tonie ¶ Rowlands Song in praise of the fairest Beta O Thou siluer Thames ô clearest christall flood Beta alone the Phaenix is of all thy watry brood The Queene of Virgins onely she And thou the Queene of flouds shalt be Let all the Nimphs be ioyfull then to see this happy day Thy Beta now alone shall be the subiect of my Lay. With daintie and delightsome straines of sweetest Virelayes Come louely Shepheards sit we downe and chaunt our Betas praise And let vs sing so rare a verse Our Betas praises to rehearse That litle Birds shall silent be to heare poore Shepheards sing And Riuers backward bend their course flow vnto the spring Range all thy Swannes faire Thames together on a ranke And place them duly one by one vpon thy stately banke Then set together all a-good Recording to the siluer flood And craue the tunefull Nightingale to helpe ye with her Lay The Osell and the Thrustlecocke chiefe musicke of our May. O see what troupes of Nimphs beene sporting on the strands And they beene blessed Nimphs of peace with Oliues in their hands How merrily the Muses sing That all the flowrie Meddowes ring And Beta sits vpon the banke in purple and in pall And shee the Queene of Muses is and weares the Coronall Trim vp her golden tresses with Apollos sacred tree O happy sight vnto all those that loue and honour thee The blessed Angels haue prepar'd A glorious Crowne for thy reward Not such a golden Crowne as haughty Caesar weares But such a glittering starrie Crowne as Ariadne beares Make her a goodly Chaplet of azurd Cullumbine And wreath about her Coronet with sweetest Eglantine Bedeck our Beta all with Lillies And the dainty Daffadillies With Roses Damaske white and red and fairest flowre-Delice With Cowslips of Ierusalem and Cloaues of Paradice O thou faire Torch of heauen the dayes most dearest light And thou bright-shining Cynthia the glory of the night You starres the eyes of heauen And thou the gliding leuen And thou O gorgeous Iris with all strange colours dyed When she streames forth her rayes then dasht is all your pride See how the Day stands still admiring of her face And Time loe stretcheth forth his armes thy Beta to embrace The Syrens sing sweet Layes The Trytons sound her praise Goe passe on Thames and hie thee fast vnto the Ocean Sea And let thy billowes there proclaime thy Betas holy-day And water thou the blessed roote of that greene Oliue tree With whose sweet shadow all thy bankes with peace preserued be Laurell for Poets and Conquerours And Mirtle for Loues Paramours That fame may be thy fruit the boughs preseru'd by peace And let the mournfull Cypres die now stormes and tempest cease Wee le strew the shoare with pearle where Beta walkes alone And we will paue her Princely Bower with richest Indian stone Perfume the ayre
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 FINIS I. M. ¶ 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 doe 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 doe tune my Country Reede vnto my groanings But Heauen and Earth time place and euery power haue with her conspired To turne my blisfull sweet to balefull sower since I this desired The Heauen whereto my thoughts may not aspire aye me vnhappy 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 FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ A sweet Pastorall GOod Muse rocke me a sleepe with some sweet Harmonie This weary eye is not to keepe thy wary companie Sweet Loue be gone a while thou knowest my heauines Beautie is borne but to beguile my hart of happines See how my little flocke that lou'd to feede on hie Doe headlong tumble downe the Rocke and in the Vallie die The bushes and the trees that were so fresh and greene Doe all their daintie colour leese and not a leafe is seene The Blacke-bird and the Thrush that made the woods to ring With all the rest are now at hush and not a note they sing Sweet Philomele the bird that hath the heauenly throat Doth now alas not once affoord recording of a noate The flowers haue had a frost each hearbe hath lost her fauour And Phillida the faire hath lost the comfort of her fauour Now all these carefull sights so kill me in conceit That how to hope vpon delights it is but meere deceite And therefore my sweet Muse that knowest what helpe is best Doe now thy heauenly cunning vse to set my heart at rest And in a dreame bewray what fate shall be my friend Whether my life shall still decay or when my sorrow end FINIS N. Breton ¶ Harpalus complaint on Phillidaes loue bestowed or Corin who loued her not and denyed him that loued her PHillida was a faire maide as fresh as any flower Whom Harpalus the Heards-man praide to be his Paramour Harpalus and eke Corin were Heards-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 hee tooke no cure for once hee 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 dry 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 And thus with sighs and sorrowes shrill he gan to tell his tale Oh Harpalus thus would he say vnhappiest vnder Sunne The cause of thine vnhappy day by loue was first begun For thou went'st first by sute to seeke a Tyger to make tame That sets not by thy loue a Leeke but makes thy griefe a game As easie were it to conuert the frost into a flame As for to turne a froward hart whom thou so faine wouldst frame Corin he liueth carelesse he leapes among the leaues He eates the fruites of thy redresse thou reap'st he takes the sheaues My beasts a-while your foode refraine and harke your Heard-mans sound Whom spightfull Loue alas hath slaine through-girt with many a wound Oh happy be ye beasts wild that here your Pasture takes I see that ye be not beguild of these your faithfull makes The Hart he feedeth by the Hinde the Bucke hard by the Doe The Turtle-Doue is not vnkinde to him that loues her so The Eweshe hath by her the Ram the young Cowe hath the Bull The Calfe with many a lusty Lamb doe feede their hunger full But well-away that Nature wrought thee Phillida so faire For I may say that I haue bought thy beauty all too deere What reason is' t that cruelty with beauty should haue part Or else that such great tirannie should dwell in womans hart I see therefore to shape my death she cruelly is prest To th' end that I may want my breath my dayes beene at the best Oh Cupid grant this my request and doe not stop thine eares That she may feele within her brest the paine of my despaires Of Corin that is carelesse that she may craue her fee As I haue done in great distresse that lou'd her faithfully But since that I shall die her slaue her slaue and eke her thrall Write you my friends vpon my graue this chance that is befall Here lyeth vnhappy Harpalus by cruell Loue now slaine Whom Phillida vniustly thus hath murdred with disdaine FINIS L.T. Haward Earle of Surrie ¶ Another of the same subiect but made as it were in answere ON a goodly Summers day Harpalus and Phillida He a true harted Swaine She full of coy disdaine droue their Flocks to field He to see his Shepheardesse She did dreame on nothing lesse Then his continuall care Which to grim-fac'd Dispaire wholely did him yeeld Corin she affected still All the more thy heart to kill Thy case doth make me rue That thou should'st loue so true and be thus disdain'd While their Flocks a feeding were They did meete together there Then with a curtsie lowe And sighs that told his woe thus to her he plain'd Bide a while faire Phillida List what Harpalus will say Onely in loue to thee Though thou respect not mee yet vouchsafe an eare To preuent ensuing ill Which no doubt betide thee will If thou doe not fore-see To shunne it presently then thy harme I feare Firme thy loue is well I wot To the man that
alas too deere possest so high a place As I whose simple heart aye thought himselfe still sure But now I see high springing tides they may not aye endure She knowes my guiltlesse heart and yet she lets it pine Of her vntrue professed loue so feeble is the twine What wonder is it then if I berent my haires And crauing death continually doe bathe my selfe in teares When Craesus King of Lide was cast in cruell hands And yeelded goods and life into his enemies hands What tongue could tell his woe yet was his griefe much lesse Then mine for I haue lost my Loue which might my woe redresse Ye Woods that shroud my limbs giue now your hollow sound That ye may helpe me to bewaile the cares that me confound Ye Riuers rest a while and stay your streames that runne Rue Thestilis the wofulst man that rests vnder the Sunne Transport my sighs ye winds vnto my pleasant soe My trickling teares shall witnes beare of this my cruell woe Oh happy man were I if all the Gods agreed That now the Sisters three should cut in twaine my fatall threed Till life with loue shall end I here resigne allioy Thy pleasant sweet I now lament whose lacke breeds mine annoy Farewell my deere therefore farewell to me well knowne If that I die it shall be said that thou hast slaine thine owne FINIS L.T. Howard E. of Surrie ¶ To Phillis the faire Shepheardesse MY Phillis hath the morning Sunne at first to looke vpon her And Phillis hath morne-waking birds her risings still to honour My Phillis hath prime-featherd flowres that smile when she treads on them And Phillis hath a gallant Flocke that leapes since she doth owne them But Phillis hath too hard a hart alas that she should haue it It yeelds no mercie to desert nor grace to those that craue it Sweet Sunne when thou look'st on pray her regard my moane Sweet birds when you sing to her to yeeld some pitty woo her Sweet flowers that she treads on tell her her beauty deads one And if in life her loue she nill agree me Pray her before I die she will come see me FINIS S. E. D. ¶ The Shepheard Dorons Iigge THrough the shrubs as I can crack for my Lambs pretty ones mongst many little ones Nimphs I meane whose haire was black As the Crow Like as the Snow Her face and browes shin'd I weene I saw a little one a bonny pretty one As bright buxome and as sheene As was shee On her knee That lull'd the God whose arrowes warmes such merry little ones such faire-fac'd pretty ones As dally in Loues chiefest harmes Such was mine Whose gray eyne Made me loue I gan to wooe this sweet little one this bonny pretty one I wooed hard a day or two Till she bad Be not sad Wooe no more I am thine owne thy dearest little one thy truest pretty one Thus was faith and firme loue showne As behooues Shepheards Loues FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ Astrophell his Song of Phillida and Coridon FAire in a morne O fairest morne was neuer morne so faire There shone a Sunne though not the Sunne that shineth in the ayre For the earth and from the earth was neuer such a creature Did come this face was neuer face that carried such a feature Vpon a hill O blessed hill was neuer hill so blessed There stoode a man was neuer man for woman so distressed This man beheld a heauenly view which did such vertue giue As cleares the blinde and helps the lame and makes the dead man liue This man had hap O happy man more happy none then hee For he had hap to see the hap that none had hap to see This silly Swaine and silly Swaines are men of meanest grace Had yet the grace O gracious guest to hap on such a face He pitty cried and pitty came and pittied so his paine As dying would not let him die but gaue him life againe For ioy whereof he made such mirth as all the Woods did ring And Pan with all his Swaines came forth to heare the Shepheards sing But such a Song sung neuer was nor shall be sung againe Of Phillida the Shepheards Queene and Coridon the Swaine Faire Phillis is the Shepheards Queene was neuer such a Queene as shee And Coridon her onely Swaine was neuer such a Swaine as he Faire Phillis hath the fairest face that euer eye did yet behold And Coridon the constant'st faith that euer yet kept Flock in fold Sweet Phillis is the sweetest sweet that euer yet the earth did yeeld And Coridon the kindest Swaine that euer yet kept Lambs in field Sweet Philomell is Phillis bird though Coridon be he that caught her And Coridon doth heare her sing though Phillida be she that taught her Poore Coridon doth keepe the fields though Phillida be she that owes them And Phillida doth walke the Meades though Coridon be he that mowes them The little Lambs are Phillis Loue though Coridon is he that feedes them The Gardens faire are Phillis ground though Coridon be he that weedes them Since then that Phillis onely is the onely Shepheards onely Queene And Coridon the onely Swaine that onely hath her Shepheard beene Though Phillis keepe her bower of state shall Coridon consume away No Shepheard no worke out the weeke and Sunday shall be holy-day FINIS N. Breton ¶ The passionate Shepheards Song ON a day alack the day Loue whose moneth was euer May Spied a blossome passing faire Playing in the wanton ayre Through the veluet leaues the winde All vnseene gan passage finde That the Shepheard sicke to death Wish'd himselfe the Heauens breath Ayre quoth he thy cheekes may blow Ayre would I might triumph so But alas my hand hath sworne Nere to plucke thee from thy thorne Vow alack for youth vnmeet Youth so apt to pluck a sweet Thou for whom Ioue would sweare Iuno but an Aethiope were And deny himselfe for Ioue Turning mortall for my Loue. FINIS W. Shakespeare ¶ The vnknowne Shepheards complaint MY Flocks feed not my Ewes breed not My Ramines speed not all is amisse Loue is denying Faith is defying Harts renying causer of this All my merry ligges are quite forgot All my Ladies loue is lost God wot Where her faith was firmely fixt in loue There a nay is plac'd without remoue One silly crosse wrought all my losse O frowning Fortune cursed fickle Dame For now I see inconstancie More in women then in men remaine In blacke mourne I all feares scorne I Loue hath forlorne me liuing in thrall Hart is bleeding all helpe needing O cruell speeding fraughted with gall My Shepheards pipe can sound no deale My Weathers bell rings dolefull knell My curtaile dogge that wont to haue plaide Playes not at all but seemes afraide With sighs so deepe procures to weepe In howling-wise to see my dolefull plight How sighs resound through hartlesse ground Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight Cleare Wels spring not sweet birds sing not
swift of pace When yelping Hounds pursue her to and fro Hounds fierce in chase to reaue her life Cease tongue to tell of any more compares Compares too rude Daphnis deserts and beautie are too rare Then heere conclude faire Daphnis praise FINIS I. Wootton ¶ Dorons description of his faire Shepheardesse Samela LIke to Diana in her Sommer weede Girt with a Crimson roabe of brightest die goes faire Samela Whiter then be the flocks that stragling feed When wash'd by Arethusa faint they lie is faire Samela As faire Aurora in her morning gray Deckt with the ruddy glister of her loue is faire Samela Like louely Thetis on a calmed day When as her brightnes Neptunes fancies moue shines faire Samela Her tresses gold her eyes like glassie streames Her teeth are pearle the brests are Iuorie of faire Samela Her cheekes like Rose and Lilly yeeld forth gleames Her browes bright arches fram'd of Ebonie thus faire Samela Passeth faire Venus in her brightest hew And Iuno in the shew of Maiestie for she 's Samela Pallas in wit all three if you well view For beauty wit and matchlesse dignitie yeeld to Samela FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ Wodenfrides Song in praise of Amargana THe Sunne the season in each thing Reuiues new pleasures the sweet Spring Hath put to flight the Winter keene To glad our louely Sommer Queene The pathes where Amargana treads With flowrie tap'stries Flora spreads And nature cloathes the ground in greene To glad our louely Sommer Queene The Groaues put on their rich aray With Hawthorne bloomes imbroydered gay And sweet perfum'd with Eglantine To glad our louely Sommer Queene The silent Riuer stayes his course Whilst playing on the christall sourse The siluer scaled fish are seene To glad our louely Sommer Queene The Woods at her faire sight reioyces The little Birds with their loud voyces In consort on the bryers beene To glad our louely Sommer Queene The fleecie Flockes doe scud and skip The wood-Nimphs Fawnes and Satires trip And daunce the Mirtle trees betweene To glad our louely Sommer Queene Great Pan our God for her deere sake This feast and meeting bids vs make Of Shepheards Lads and Lasses sheene To glad our louely Sommer Queene And euery Swaine his chaunce doth proue To winne faire Amarganaes loue In sporring strifes quite voide of spleene To glad our louely Sommer Queene All happines let Heauen her lend And all the Graces her attend Thus bid me pray the Muses nine Long liue our louely Sommer Queene FINIS W. H. Another of the same HAppy Shepheards sit and see with ioy The peerelesse wight For whose sake Pan keepes from ye annoy And giues delight Blessing this pleasant Spring Her praises must I sing List you Swaines list to me The whiles your Flocks feeding be First her brow a beauteous Globe I deeme And golden haire And her cheeke Auroraes roabe doth seeme But farre more faire Her eyes like starres are bright And dazle with their light Rubies her lips to see But to taste Nectar they be Orient pearles her teeth her smile doth linke The Graces three Her white necke doth eyes beguile to thinke it Iuorie Alas her Lilly hand How it doth me commaund Softer silke none can be And whiter milke none can see Circes wand is not so straite as is Her body small But two pillers beare the waight of this maiesticke Hall Those be I you assure Of Alabaster pure Polish'd fine in each part Ne're Nature yet shewed like Art How shall I her pretty tread expresse when she doth walke Scarse she doth the Primerose head depresse or tender stalke Of blew-veind Violets Whereon her foote she sets Vertuous she is for we finde In body faire a beaut'ous minde Liue faire Amargana still extold In all my rime Hand want Art when I want will t'vnsold her worth diuine But now my Muse doth rest Despaire clos'd in my brest Of the valour I sing Weake faith that no hope doth bring FINIS W. H. ¶ An excellent Pastorall Dittie A Carefull Nimph with carelesse greefe opprest Vnder the shaddow of an Ashen tree With Lute in hand did paint out her vnrest vnto a Nimph that bare her company No sooner had she tuned euery string But sob'd and sigh'd and thus began to sing Ladies and Nimphs come listen to my plaint on whom the cheerefull Sunne did neuer rise If pitties stroakes your tender breasts may taint come learne of me to wet your wanton eyes For Loue in vaine the name of pleasure beares His sweet delights are turned into feares The trustlesse shewes the frights the feeble ioyes the freezing doubts the guilefull promises The feigned lookes the shifts the subtill toyes the brittle hope the stedfast heauines The wished warre in such vncertaine peace These with my woe my woes with these increase Thou dreadfull God that in thy Mothers lap do'st lye and heare the crie of my complaint And seest and smilest at my sore mishap that lacke but skill my sorrowes here to paint Thy fire from heauen before the hurt I spide Quite through mine eyes into my brest did glide My life was light my blood did spirt and spring my body quicke my heart began to leape And euery thornie thought did prick and sting the fruit of my desired ioyes to reape But he on whom to thinke my soule still tyers In bale forsooke and lest me in the bryers Thus Fancie strung my Lute to layes of Loue and Loue hath rock'd my wearie Muse a-sleepe And sleepe is broken by the paines I proue and euery paine I feele doth force me weepe Then farewell fancie loue sleepe paine and sore And farewell weeping I can waile no more FINIS Shep. Tonie ¶ Phillidaes Loue-call to her Coridon and his replying Phil. COridon arise my Coridon Titan shineth cleare Cor. Who is it that calleth Coridon who is it that I heare Phil. Phillida thy true-Loue calleth thee arise then arise then arise and keepe thy Flock with me Cor. Phillida my true-Loue is it she I come then I come then I come and keepe my flocke with thee Phil. Here are cherries ripe my Coridon eate them for my sake Cor. Here 's my Oaten pipe my louely one sport for thee to make Phil. Here are threeds my true-Loue fine as silke to knit thee to knit thee a paire of stockings white as milke Cor. Here are Reedes my true-Loue fine and neate to make thee to make thee a Bonnet to with-stand the heate Phil. I will gather flowers my Coridon to set in thy Cap Cor. I will gather Peares my louely one to put in thy lap Phil. I will buy my true-Loue Garters gay for Sundayes for Sundayes to weare about his legges so tall Cor. I will buy my true-Loue yellow Say for Sundayes for Sundayes to weare about her middle small Phil. When my Coridon sits on a hill making melodie Cor. When my louely one goes to her wheele singing cherily Phil. Sure me thinks my true-Loue doth excell for sweetnesse for sweetnesse our Pan that
old Arcadian Knight Cor. And me thinks my true-Loue beares the bell for clearenesse for clearenesse beyond the Nimphs that be so bright Phil. Had my Coridon my Coridon beene alack my Swaine Cor. Had my louely one my louely one beene in Ida plaine Phil. Cinthia Endimion had refus'd preferring preferring my Coridon to play with-all Cor. The Queene of Loue had beene excus'd bequeathing bequeathing my Phillida the golden ball Phil. Yonder comes my Mother Coridon whether shall I flie Cor. Vnder yonder Beech my louely one while she passeth by Phil. Say to her thy true-Loue was not here remember remember to morrow is another day Cor. Doubt me not my true-Loue doe not feare farewell then farewell then heauen keepe our loues alway FINIS Ignoto ¶ The Shepheards solace PHoebus delights to view his Laurell tree The Poplar pleaseth Hercules alone Melissa mother is and sautrixe to the Bee Pallas will weare the Oliue branch alone Of Shepheards and their Flocks Pales is Queene And Ceres ripes the Corne was lately greene To Chloris euery flower belongs of right The Dryade Nimphs of Woods make chiefe account Orcades in hills haue their delight Diana doth protect each bubling Fount To Hebe louely kissing is assign'd To Zephire euery gentle-breathing wind But what is Loues delight To hurt each where He cares not whom with Darts of deepe desire With watchfull iealousie with hope with feare With nipping cold and secret flames of fire O happy houre wherein I did forgoe This little God so great a cause of woe FINIS Tho. Watson ¶ Syrenus Song to Eugerius LEt now the goodly Spring-tide make vs merrie And fields which pleasant flowers doe adorne And Vales Meads Woods with liuely colours flourish Let plenteous flocks the Shepheards riches nourish Let hungry Wolues by dogges to death be torne And Lambes reioyce with passed Winter wearie Let euery Riuers Ferrie In waters flow and siluer streames abounding And fortune ceaselesse wounding Turne now thy face so cruell and vnstable Be firme and fauourable And thou that kill'st our soules with thy pretences Molest not wicked Loue my inward sences Let Country plainenesse liue in ioyes not ended In quiet of the desert Meades and mountaines And in the pleasure of a Country dwelling Let Shepheards rest that haue distilled fountaines Of teares proue not thy wrath all paines excelling Vpon poore soules that neuer haue offended Let thy flames be incended In haughty Courts in those that swim in treasure And liue in case and pleasure And that a sweetest scorne my wonted sadnes A perfect rest and gladnes And hills and Dales may giue me with offences Molest not wicked Loue my inward sences In what law find'st thou that the freest reason And wit vnto thy chaines should be subiected And harmelesse soules vnto thy cruell murder O wicked Loue the wretch that flieth furder From thy extreames thou plagu'st O false suspected And carelesse boy that thus thy sweets doost season O vile and wicked treason Might not thy might suffice thee but thy fuell Of force must be so cruell To be a Lord yet like a Tyrant minded Vaine Boy with errour blinded Why do'st thou hurt his life with thy offences That yeelds to thee his soule and inward sences He erres alas and soulely is deceiued That calls thee God being a burning fire A furious flame a playning griefe and clamorous And Venus sonne that in the earth was amorous Gentle and mild and full of sweet desire Who calleth him is of his wits bereaued And yet that she conceaued By proofe so vile a sonne and so vnruly I say and yet say truly That in the cause of harmes that they haue framed Both iustly may be blamed She that did breed him with such vile pretences He that doth hurt so much our inward sences The gentle Sheepe and Lambs are euer flying The rauenous Wolues beasts that are pretending To glut their mawes with flesh they teare asunder The milke-white Doues at noyse of fearefull thunder Fly home a-maine themselues frō harme defending The little Chick when Puttocks are a crying The Woods and Meadowes dying Forraine of heauen if that they cannot haue it Doe neuer cease to craue it So euery thing his contrary resisteth Onely thy thrall persisteth In suffering of thy wrongs without offences And lets thee spoile his heart 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 shunnes all consolation A spendlesse flame that neuer is impaired A friendlesse death yet life in death maintaining A passion that is gaining On him that loueth well and is absented Whereby it is augmented A iealousie a burning griefe and sorrow These fauours Louers borrow Of thee fell Loue these be thy recompences Consuming still their soule and inward sences FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ The Shepheards Arsileus reply to Syrenus Song O Let that time a thousand moneths endure Which brings from heauen the sweet siluer showers And ioyes the earth of comfort late depriued With grasse and leaues fine buds and painted flowers Ecchoe returne vnto the woods obscure Ring forth the Shepheards 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 griefes thou do'st controule Good Loue doe not forsake my inward soule Presume not Shepheards 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 doe wearie Crown him with flowers or else ye do him wrong And consecrate your Springs to his behests I to my Shepheardesse My happy Loues with great content doe sing And flowers to her doe bring And sitting neere her by the Riuer side Enioy the braue Spring-tide Since then thy ioyes such sweetnesse doth enroule Good Loue doe not forsake my inward soule The wise in ancient 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 heart 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 command To birds beasts transformed Great Monarchs haue not scorned To yeeld vnto the force of beauties lure Such spoiles thou do'st procure With thy braue force which neuer may be tould With which sweet loue thou cōquer'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 Shepheardesse 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
must begin And from hence-forth this question neuer make If that thou should'st a secret Louer take Of force it doth behooue That thou should'st be belou'd and that againe Faire Mistresse thou should'st loue For to what end what purpose and what gaine Should such perfections serue as now in vaine My loue is of such art That of it selfe it well deserues to take In thy sweet loue a part Then for no Shepheard that his loue doth make Sweet life doe not my secret loue forsake FINIS Bar. Yong. Another of the same by Firmius the Shepheard IF that the gentle winde doth moue the leaues with pleasant sound If that the Kid behinde Is left that cannot finde her Dam runnes bleating vp and downe The Bagpipe Reede or Flute onely with ayre if that they touched be With pitty all salute And full of loue do◠brute thy name and sound Diana seeing thee A faire Mayd wed to prying Ielousie The fierce and sauage beasts beyond their kinde and nature yet With pitteous voyce and brest In mountaines without rest the selfe same Song doe not forget If that they stay'd at Faire and had not passed to prying Iealousie With plaints of such despaire As moou'd the gentle ayre to teares The Song that they did sing should bee One of the fairest as euer I did see Mishap and fortunes play ill did they place in Beauties brest For since so much to say There was of beautie sway they had done well to leaue the rest They had enough to doe if in her praise their wits they did awake But yet so must they too And all thy loue that woe thee not too coy nor too too proud to make If that thou wilt a secret Louer take For if thou hadst but knowne the beautie that they heere doe touch Thou would'st then loue alone Thy selfe nor any one onely thy selfe accounting much But if thou do'st conceaue this beauty that I will not publique make And mean'st not to bereaue The world of it but leaue the same to some which neuer peere did take Sweet life doe not my secret loue forsake FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Damelus Song to his Diaphenia DIaphenia like the Daffa-down-dilly White as the Sunne faire as the Lilly heigh hoe how I doe loue thee I doe loue thee as my Lambs Are beloued of their Dams how blest were I if thou would'st proue me Diaphenia like the spreading Roses That in thy sweetes all sweetes incloses faire sweet how I doe loue thee I doe loue thee as each flower Loues the Sunnes life-giuing power for dead thy breath to life might moue me Diaphenia like to all things blessed When all thy praises are expressed deare Ioy how I doe loue thee As the birds doe loue the Spring Or the Bees their carefull King then in requite sweet Virgin loue me FINIS H. C. ¶ The Shepheard Eurymachus to his faire Shepheardesse Mirimida VVHen Flora proud in pompe of all her flowers sate bright and gay And gloried in the dewe of Iris showers and did display Her mantle checquer'd all with gaudie greene Then I alone A mournfull man in Ericine was seene With folded armes I trampled through the grasse Tracing as he That held the Throne of Fortune brittle glasse And loue to be Like Fortune fleeting as the restlesse winde Mixed with mists Whose dampe doth make the clearest eyes grow blinde Thus in a maze I spied a hideous flame I cast my sight And sawe where blithely bathing in the same With great delight A worme did lie wrapt in a smoakie sweate And yet t was strange It carelesse lay and shrunk not at the heate I stood amaz'd and wondring at the sight while that a dame That shone like to the heauens rich sparkling light Discourst the same And said My friend this worme within the fire Which lyes content Is Venus worme and represents desire A Salamander is this princely beast Deck'd with a Crowne Giuen him by Cupid as a gorgeous creast Gainst Fortunes frowne Content he lyes and bathes him in the flame And goes not forth For why he cannot liue without the same As he so Louers liue within the fire Of feruent loue And shrinke not from the flame of hote desire Nor will not moue From any heate that Venus force imparts But lie content Within a fire and waste away their harts Vp flew the Dame and vanish'd in a cloud But there stood I And many thoughts within my minde did shroud My loue for why I felt within my heart a scorching fire And yet as did The Salamander t was my whole desire FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ The Shepheard Firmius his Song SHepheards giue eare and now be still Vnto my passions and their cause and what they be Since that with such an earnest will And such great signes of friendships lawes you aske it me It is not long since I was whole Nor since I did in euery part free-will resigne It is not long since in my sole Possession I did know my hart and to be mine It is not long since euen and morrow All pleasure that my heart could finde was in my power It is not long since griefe and sorrow My louing heart began to binde and to deuoure It is not long since companie I did esteeme a ioy indeede still to frequent Nor long since solitarilie I liu'd and that this life did breede my sole content Desirous I wretched to see But thinking not to see so much as then I saw Loue made me know in what degree His valour and braue force did touch me with his law First he did put no more nor lesse Into my heart then he did view that there did want But when my breast in such excesse Of liuely flames to burne I knew then were so scant My ioyes that now did so abate My selfe estranged euery way from former rest That I did know that my estate And that my life was euery day in Deaths arrest I put my hand into my side To see what was the cause of this vnwonted vaine Where I did finde that torments hied By endlesse death to preiudice my life with paine Because I saw that there did want My heart wherein I did delight my dearest hart And he that did the same supplant No iurisdiction had of right to play that part The Iudge and Robber that remaine Within my soule their cause to trie are there all one And so the giuer of the paine And he that is condemn'd to die or I or none To die I care not any way Though without why to die I greeue as I doe see But for because I heard her say None die for loue for I beleeue none such there be Then this thou shalt beleeue by me Too late and without remedie as did in briefe Anaxerete and thou shalt see The little she did satisfie with after griefe FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ The Shepheards praise of his sacred Diana PRaised be Dianaes faire and harmelesse light Praised be the dewes wherwith she moists the ground
Loue 's so expert in giuing ioy not trouble That now I know not but he should be praised He is so true so constant neuer double That in my minde he should not be dispraised Loue in the end is such a pleasing passion That euery one may trust vnto his fashion For of all good he is the onely Master And foe vnto my harmes and my disaster Syrenus Not in these sayings to be proou'd a lyer He knowes that doth not loue nor is beloued Now nights and dayes I rest as I desire After I had such griefe from me remoued And cannot I be glad since thus estranged My selfe from false Diana I haue changed Hence hence false Loue I wil not entertaine their Since to thy torments thou do'st seeke to traine me Syluanus Not in these sayings to be prou'd a lyer He knowes that loues and is againe beloued Now nights and dayes I rest in sweet desire After I had such happy fortune proued And cannot I be glad since not estranged My selfe into Seluagia I haue changed Come come good Loue and I will entertaine thee Since to thy sweet content thou seek'st to traine me FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Ceres Song in emulation of Cinthia SWell Ceres now for other Gods are shrinking Pomona pineth Fruitlesse her tree Faire Phaebus shineth Onely on me Conceit doth make me smile whilst I am thinking How euery one doth read my storie How euery bough on Ceres lowreth Cause heauen plenty on me powreth And they in leaues doe onely glory All other Gods of power bereauen Ceres onely Queene of heauen With roabes and flowers let me be dressed Cinthia that shineth Is not so cleare Cinthia declineth When I appeare Yet in this Isle she raignes as blessed And euery one at her doth wonder And in my eares still fond fame whispers Cinthia shall be Ceres Mistres But first my Carre shall riue in sunder Helpe Phaebus helpe my fall is suddaine Cinthia Cinthia must be Soueraigne This Song was sung before her Maiestie at Bissam the Lady Russels in prograce The Authors name vnknowne to me ¶ A Pastorall Ode to an honourable friend AS to the blooming prime Bleake Winter being fled From compasse of the clime Where Nature lay as dead The Riuers dull'd with time The greene leaues withered Fresh Zephyri the Westerne brethren be So th' honour of your fauour is to me For as the Plaines reuiue And put on youthfull greene As plants begin to thriue That disattir'd had beene And Arbours now aliue In former pompe are seene So if my Spring had any flowers before Your breath Fauonius hath encreast the store FINIS E. B. ¶ A Nimphs disdaine of Loue. HEy downe a downe did Dian sing amongst her Virgins sitting Then loue there is no vainer thing for Maydens most vnfitting And so thinke I with a downe downe derrie When women knew no woe but liu'd them-selues to please Mens fayning guiles they did not know the ground of their disease Vnborne was false suspect no thought of iealousie From wanton toyes and fond affect the Virgins life was free Hey down a down did Dian sing c At length men vsed charmes to which what Maides gaue eare Embracing gladly endlesse harmes anone enthralled were Thus women welcom'd woe disguis'd in name of loue A iealous hell a painted show so shall they finde that proue Hey downe a downe did Dian sing amongst her Virgins sitting Then loue there is no vainer thing for Maidens most vnfitting And so thinke I with a downe downe derrie FINIS Ignoto ¶ Apollos Loue-Song for faire Daphne MY heart and tongue were twins at once conceaued The eldest was my heart borne dumbe by destinie The last my tongue of all sweet thoughts bereaued Yet strung and tun'd to play harts harmonie Both knit in one and yet a-sunder placed What hart would speake the tongue doth still discouer What tongue doth speake is of the heart embraced And both are one to make a new-found Louer New-found and onely found in Gods and Kings Whose words are deeds but deeds not words regarded Chaste thoughts doe mount and flie with swiftest wings My loue with paine my paine with losse rewarded Engraue vpon this tree Daphnes perfection That neither men nor Gods can force affection This Dittie was sung before her Maiestie at the right honourable the Lord Chandos at Sudley Castell at her last being there in prograce The Author thereof vnknowne ¶ The Shepheard Delicius his Dittie NEuer a greater foe did Loue disdaine Or trode on grasse so gay Nor Nimph greene leaues with whiter hand hath rent More golden haire the wind did neuer blow Nor fairer Dame hath bound in white attire Or hath in Lawne more gracious features tied Then my sweet Enemie Beautie and chastitie one place refraine In her beare equall sway Filling the world with wonder and content But they doe giue me paine and double woe Since loue and beautie kindled my desire And cruell chastitie from me denied All sence of iollitie There is no Rose nor Lilly after raine Nor flower in moneth of May Nor pleasant meade nor greene in Sommer sent That seeing them my minde delighteth so As that faire flower which all the heauens admire Spending my thoughts on her in whom abide All grace and gifts on hie Me thinks my heauenly Nimph I see againe Her neck and breast display Seeing the whitest Ermine to frequent Some plaine or flowers that make the fairest show O Gods I neuer yet beheld her nier Or farre in shade or Sunne that satisfied I was in passing by The Meade the Mount the Riuer Wood and Plaine With all their braue array Yeeld not such sweet as that faire face that 's bent Sorrowes and ioy in each soule to bestow In equall parts procur'd by amorous fire Beauty and Loue in her their force haue tried to blind each humane eye Each wicked mind will which wicked vice doth staine her vertues breake and stay All ayres infect by ayre are purg'd and spent Though of a great foundation they did grow O body that so braue a soule do'st hire And blessed soule whose vertues euer pried aboue the starrie skie Onely for her my life in ioyes I traine my soule sings many a Lay Musing on her new Seas I doe inuent Of soueraigne ioy wherein with pride I rowe The deserts for her sake I doe require For without her the Springs of ioy are dried and that I doe defie Sweet Fate that to a noble deede do'st straine and lift my heart to day Sealing her there with glorious ornament Sweet seale sweet griefe and sweetest ouerthrow Sweet miracle whose fame cannot expire Sweet wound and golden shaft that so espied such heauenly companie Of beauties graces in sweet vertues died As like were neuer in such yeares descried FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Amintas for his Phillis AVrora now began to rise againe From watry couch and from old Tithons side In hope to kisse vpon Acteian plaine Young Cephalus and through the golden glide On Easterne
are come downe vpon earth to liue But harken to the Song Glory to glories King And peace all men among These Queristers doe sing Angels they are as also Shepheards hee Whom in our feare we doe 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 Shepheard 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 Citie doth this Sunne appeare Clouded in flesh yet Shepheards sit we here FINIS E. B. ¶ 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 forth your smels so finely tainted Calme windes the greene leaues moue with gentle blowing The Christall Riuers flowing With waters be encreased And since each one from sorrow now hath ceased gladnes From mournfull plaints and sadnes Ring forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for 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 gladnes And you deuoyd of sadnes Ring forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for 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 hearts to loue with emulation Who rids vs from vexation And all our minds commandeth But great Felicia that his might withstandeth gladnes That fill'd our hearts with sadnes Ring forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for 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 forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Of that sweet ioy delight you with such measure Betweene you both faiâ—e issue to ingender Longer then Nestor may you liue in pleasure The Gods to you such sweet content surrender That may make mild and tender The beasts in euery mountaine And glad the fields and Woods and euery Fountaine Abiuring former sadnes Ring forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Let amorous birds with sweetest notes delight you Let gentle windes refresh you with their blowing Let fields and Forrests with their good requite you And Flora decke the ground where you are going Roses and Violets strowing The Iasmine and the Gilliflower With many more and neuer in your bower To tast of houshold sadnes Ring forth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Concord and peace hold you for aye contented And in your ioyfull state liue you so quiet That with the plague of iealousie tormented You may not be nor fed with Fortunes diet And that your names may flie yet To hills vnknowne with glorie But now because my breast so hoarce and sorrie It faints may rest from singing End Nimphs your Songs that in the clouds are ringing FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Philistus farewell to false Clorinda CLorinda false adiew thy loue torments me Let Thirsis haue thy heart since he contents thee Oh griefe and bitter anguish For thee I languish Faine I alas would hide it Oh but who can abide it I can I cannot I abide it Adiew adiew then Farewell Leaue my death now desiring For thou hast thy requiring Thus spake Philistus on his hooke relying And sweetly fell a dying FINIS Out of M. Morleys Madrigalls ¶ Rosalindes Madrigall LOue in my bosome like a Bee doth sucke his sweet Now with his wings he playes with me now with his feete Within mine eyes he makes his nest His bed amidst my tender brest My kisses are his daily feast And yet he robs me of my rest Ah wanton will ye And if I sleepe then pierceth he with prettie slight And makes his pillow of my knee the liue-long night Strike I my Lute he tunes the string He musicke playes if I but sing He lends me euery lonely thing Yet cruell he my heart doth sting Whilst wanton still ye Else I with Roses euery day will whip ye hence And binde ye when ye long to play for your offence I le shut mine eyes to keepe ye in I le make you fast it for your sinne He count your power not woorth a pin Alas what hereby shall I winne If he gaine-say me What if I beate the wanton Boy with many a rod He will repay me with annoy because a God Then sit thou safely on my knee And let thy bower my bosome be Lurke in mine eyes I like of thee O Cupid so thou pitty me Spare not but play thee FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ A Dialogue Song betweene Syluanus and Arsilius Syl. SHepheard why do'st thou holde thy peace Sing and thy ioy to vs report Arsil My ioy good Shepheard should be lesse If it were tolde in any sort Syl. Though such great fauours thou do'st winne Yet daigne thereof to tell some part Arsil The hardest thing is to begin In enterprizes of such Art Syl. Come make an end no cause omit Of all the ioyes that thou art in Arsil How should I make an end of it That am not able to begin Syl. It is not iust we should consent That thou shoul'dst not thy ioyes recite Arsil The soule that felt the punishment Doth onely feele this great delight Syl. That ioy is small and nothing fine That is not tolde abroad to many Arsil If it be such a ioy as mine It neuer can be tolde to any Syl. How can this hart of thine containe A ioy that is of such great force Arsil I haue it where I did retaine My passions of so great remorse Syl. So great and rare a ioy is this No man is able to with-hold Arsil But greater that a pleasure is The lesse it may with words be told Syl. Yet haue I heard thee heretofore Thy ioyes in open Songs report Arsil I said I had of ioy some store But not how much nor in what sort Syl. Yet when a ioy is in excesse It selfe it will oft-times vnfolde Arsil Nay such a ioy would be the lesse If but a word thereof were tolde FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Montanus Sonnet VVHen the dogge Full of rage With his irefull eyes Frownes amidst the skies The Shepheard to asswage The furie of the heate Himselfe doth safely seate By a Fount Full of faire Where a gentle breath Mounting from beneath tempereth the ayre There his flocks Drinke their fill And with ease repose While sweet sleepe doth close Eyes from toyling ill But
so cleare and bright By making here there your thoughts estray Tell me what will you feele before her sight Hence solitarinesse torments away Felt for her sake and wearied members cast Off all your paine redeem'd this happy day O stay not time but passe with speedy hast And Fortune hinder not her comming now O God betides me yet this griefe at last Come my sweet Shepheardesse the life which thou Perhaps didst thinke was ended long agoe At thy commaund is readie still to bow Comes not my Shepheardesse desired so O God what if she 's lost or if she stray Within this wood where trees so thicke doe grow Or if this Nimph that lately went away Perhaps forgot to goe and seeke her out No no in her obliuion neuer lay Thou onely art my Shepheardesse about Whose thoughts my soule shall finde her ioy and rest Why comm'st not then to assure it frō doubt O seest thou not the Sunne passe to the West And if it passe and I behold thee not Then I my wonted torments will request And thou shalt waile my hard and heauie lot FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Another of Astrophell to his Stella IN a Groue most rich of shade Where Birds wanton musique made May then young his pyed weedes showing New perfum'd with flowers fresh growing Astrophell with Stella sweet Did for mutuall comfort meet Both within them-selues oppressed But each in the other blessed Him great harmes had taught much care Her faire necke a foule yoake bare But her sight his cares did banish In his sight her yoake did vanish Wept they had alas the while But now teares them-selues did smile While their eyes by Loue directed Enterchangeably reflected Sigh they did but now betwixt Sighs of woes were glad sighs mixt With armes crost yet testifying Restlesse rest and liuing dying Their eares hungry of each word Which the deare tongue would afford But their tongues restrain'd from walking Till their hearts had ended talking But when their tongues could not speake Loue it selfe did silence breake Loue did set his lips a-sunder Thus to speake in loue and wonder Stella Soueraigne of my ioy Faire triumpher of annoy Stella starre of heauenly fire Stella Loadstarre of desire Stella in whose shining eyes Are the lights of Cupids skies Whose beames where they once are darted Loue there-with is strait imparted Stella whose voyce when it speakes Sences all asunder breakes Stella whose voyce when it singeth Angels to acquaintance bringeth Stella in whose body is Writ each Character of blisse Whose face all all beautie passeth Saue thy minde which it surpasseth Graunt O graunt but speech alas Failes me fearing on to passe Graunt O me what am I saying But no fault there is in praying Graunt O deere on knees I pray Knees on ground he then did stay That not I but since I loue you Time and place for me may moue you Neuer season was more fit Neuer roome more apt for it Smiling ayre alowes my reason The birds sing now vse the season This small winde which so sweet is See how it the leaues doth kisse Each tree in his best attyring Sence of loue to loue inspiring Loue makes earth the water drinke Loue to earth makes water sinke And if dumbe things be so wittie Shall a heauenly grace want pittie There his hands in their speech faine Would haue made tongues language plaine But her hands his hands repelling Gaue repulse all grace excelling Then she spake her speech was such As not eares but hart did touch While such wise she loue denied As yet loue she signified Astrophell said she my Loue Cease in these effects to proue Now be still yet still beleeue me Thy griefe more then death doth grieue mee If that any thought in me Can taste comfort but of thee Let me feede with hellish anguish Ioylesse helplesse endlesse languish If those eyes you praised be Halfe so deere as you to me Let me home returne starke blinded Of those eyes and blinder minded If to secret of my hart I doe any wish impart Where thou art not formost placed Be both wish and I defaced If more may be said I say All my blisse on thee I lay If thou loue my loue content thee For all loue all faith is meant thee Trust me while I thee denie In my selfe the smart I trie Tirant honour doth thus vse thee Stellaes selfe might not refuse thee Therefore deere this no more moue Least though I leaue not thy loue Which too deepe in me is framed I should blush when thou art named There-with-all away she went Leauing him to passion rent With what she had done and spoken That there-with my Song is broken FINIS S. Phil. Sidney ¶ Syrenus his Song to Dianaes Flockes PAssed contents Oh what meane ye Forsake me now and doe not wearie me Wilt thou heare mee O memorie My pleasant dayes and nights againe I haue appai'd with seauen-fold paine Thou hast no more to aske me why For when I went they all did die As thou do'st see O leaue me then and doe not wearie me Greene field and shadowed valley where Sometime my chiefest pleasure was Behold what I did after passe Then let me rest and if I beare Not with good cause continuall feare Now doe you see O leaue me then and doe not trouble mee I saw a hart changed of late And wearied to assure mine Then I was forced to recure mine By good occasion time and fate My thoughts that now such passion hate O what meane ye Forsake me now and doe not wearie mee You Lambes and Sheepe that in these Layes Did sometime follow me so glad The merry houres and the sad Are passed now with all those dayes Make not such mirth and wonted playes As once did ye For now no more you haue deceaued me If that to trouble me you come Or come to comfort me indeed I haue no ill for comforts need But if to kill me Then in some Now my ioyes are dead and dombe Full well may ye Kill me and you shall make an end of me FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ To Amarillis THough Amarillis dance in greene Like Fairie Queene And sing full cleere With smiling cheere Yet since her eyes make heart so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more My Sheepe are lost for want of foode And I so wood That all the day I sit and watch a Heard-mayde gay Who laughs to see me sigh so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more Her louing lookes her beautie bright Is such delight That all in vaine I loue to like and loose my gaine For her that thanks me not therefore hey hoe I hill loue no more Ah wanton eyes my friendly foes And cause of woes Your sweet desire Breedes flames of Ice and freeze in fire You scorne to see me weepe so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more Loue ye who list I force him not Sith God it wot The more I waile The lesse my sighs and teares preuaile What shall
I doe but say therefore hey hoe I hill loue no more FINIS Out of M. Birds set Songs ¶ Cardenia the Nimph to her false Shepheard Faustus FAustus if thou wilt reade from me These few and simple lines By them most clearely thou shalt see How little should accounted be Thy faigned words and signes For noting well thy deedes vnkinde Shepheard thou must not scan That euer it came to my minde To praise thy faith like to the winde Or for a constant man For this in thee shall so be sound As smoake blowne in the aire Or like Quick-siluer turning round Or as a house built on the ground Of sands that doe impaire To firmenesse thou art contrarie More slipp'rie then the Eele Changing as Weather-cocke on hie Or the Camelion on the die Or Fortunes turning wheele Who would beleeue thou wert so free To blaze me thus each houre My Shepheardesse thou liu'st in me My soule doth onely dwell in thee And euery vitall power Pale Atropos my vitall string Shall cut and life offend The streames shall first turne to their spring The world shall end and euery thing Before my loue shall end This loue that thou didst promise me Shepheard where is it found The word and faith I had of thee O tell me now where may they be Or where may they resound Too soone thou did'st the title gaine Of giuer of vaine words Too soone my loue thou did'st obtaine Too soone thou lou'dst Diana in vaine That nought but scornes affords But one thing now I will thee tell That much thy patience moues That though Diana doth excell In beautie yet she keepes not well Her faith not loyall proues Thou then hast chosen each one saith Thine equall and a shrow For if thou hast vndone thy faith Her Loue and Louer she betrayeth So like to like may goe If now this Sonnet which I send Will anger thee Before Remember Faustus yet my friend That if these speeches doe offend Thy deedes doe hurt me more Thus let each one of vs amend Thou deedes I words so spent For I confesse I blame my pen Doe thou as much so in the end Thy deedes thou doe repent FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Of Phillida AS I beheld I saw a Heardman wilde with his sheepe-hooke 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 heart 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 heart on tree to blot FINIS Out of M. Birds set Songs Melisea her Song in scorne of her Shepheard Narcissus YOung Shepheard 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 doe meane to hate thee while I liue That since the Louer so doth proue His death as thou do'st see Be bold I will not kill with loue Nor loue shall not kill me FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ His answere to the Nimphs Song IF to be lou'd it thee offend I cannot choose but loue thee still And so thy griefe shall haue no end Whiles that my life maintaines my will O let me yet with griefe 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 doe Not to offend thee then I would leaue off to like and loue thee too But since all loue to thee doth tend and I of force must loue thee still Thy griefe shall neuer haue an end whiles that my life maintaines my will FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Her present answere againe to him ME thinkes thou tak'st the worser way Enamour'd Shepheard and in vaine That thou wilt seeke thine owne decay To loue her that doth 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 lest of all thy griefe and paines And seeke not Shepheard thy decay To loue her that thy loue disdaines FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ 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 do'st abhorre If viewing thee I saw thee not And seeing thee I could not loue thee Dying I should not liue God wot Nor liuing should to anger moue thee But it is well that I doe finde My life so full of torments for All kinde of ills doe fit his minde Whom thou faire Mistresse do'st abhorre In thy obliuion buried now My death I haue before mine eyes And here to hate my selfe I vow As cruell thou do'st me despise Contented euer thou didst finde Me with thy scornes though neuer for To say the truth I ioyed in minde After thou didst my loue abhorre FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Philon the Shepheard his Song VVHile that the Sunne with his beames hot Scorched the fruites in vale and mountaine Philon the Shepheard late forgot Sitting besides a Christall Fountaine In shaddow of a greene Oake-tree Vpon his Pipe this Song plaid hee 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 your sight I was your heart your soule and treasure And euermore you sob'd and sigh'd Burning in flames beyond all measure Three dayes endur'd your loue to me And it was lost in other three Adiew Loue adiew Loue vntrue Loue c. Another Shepheard you did see To whom your heart 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 leasure had To choose you for my best beloued For all your loue was past and done Two dayes before it was begun Adiew Loue c. FINIS Out of M. Birds set Songs ¶ Lycoris the Nimph her sad Song IN dewe of Roses steeping her louely cheekes Lycoris thus sate weeping Ah Dorus false that hast my heart bereft me And now vnkinde hast left me Heare alas oh heare me Aye me aye
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 Shepheard strayeth In thy walkes and shades vnhaunted Tell the teene my hart betrayeth How neglect my ioyes haue daunted FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ A Pastorall Song betweene Phillis and Amarillis two Nimphs each answering other line for line FIe on the sleights that men deuise heigh hoe silly sleights When simple Maides 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 Shepheards oft vndone If any young man win a maide happy man is hec 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 murder men without releefe I know a simple Countrie Hinde heigh hoe sillie Swaine To whom faire Daphne proued kinde was he not kinde to her againe He vowed by Pan with many an oath heigh hoe Shepheards God is he Yet since hath chang'd and broke his troath troth-plight broke will plagued be She had deceiued many a Swaine fie on false deceit And plighted troth to them in vaine there can bee no griefe more great Her measure was with measure paide heigh hoe heigh hoe equall meede She was begui'ld that had betraide so shall all deceiuers speede If euery Maide were like to mee 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 sweet They to their Louers should proue kinde kindnes is for Maiden's meet Me thinkes loue is an idle toy heigh hoe busie paine Both wit and sense it doth annoy both sense and wit thereby we gaine Tush Phillis cease be not so coy heigh hoe heigh hoe coy disdaine I know you loue a Shepheards boy fie that Maydens so should fame Well Amarillis now I yeeld Shepheards pipe aloude Loue conquers both in towne and field like a Tirant fierce and proude The euening starre is vp yee see Vesper shines we must away Would euery Louer might agree so we end our Roundelay FINIS H. C. ¶ The Shepheards Antheme NEere to a banke with Roses set about Where prettie Turtles ioyning bill to bill And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill There little Loue sore wounded lyes his bow and arrowes broken Bedewde with teares from Venus eyes Oh that it should be spoken Beare him my hart slaine with her scornefull eye Where sticks the arrow that poore hart did kill With whose sharpe pyle yet will him ere hee die About my hart to write his latest will And bid him send it backe to mee at instant of his dying That cruell cruell she may see my faith and her denying His Hearse shall be a mournefull Cypres shade And for a Chauntrie Philomels sweet lay Where prayer shall continually be made By Pilgrime louers passing by that way With Nimphs and Shepheards yeerely mone his timelesse death beweeping And telling that my hart alone hath his last will in keeping FINIS Mich. Drayton ¶ The Countesse of Pembrokes Pastorall A Shepheard and a Shepheardesse sate keeping sheepe vpon the downes His lookes did gentle blood expresse her beautie was no foode for clownes Sweet louely twaine what might you be Two fronting hills bedeckt with flowers they chose to be each other seate And there they stole their amorous houres with sighs and teares poore louers meate Fond Loue that feed'st thy seruants so Faire friend quoth he when shall I liue That am halfe dead yet cannot die Can beautie such sharpe guerdon giue to him whose life hangs in your eye Beautie is milde and will not kill Sweet Swaine quoth shee accuse not mee that long haue beene thy humble thrall But blame the angry destinie whose kinde consent might finish all Vngentle Fate to crosse true Loue. Quoth hee let not our Parents hate disioyne what heauen hath linckt in one They may repent and all too late if childlesse they be left alone Father nor friend should wrong true loue The Parents frowne said shee is death to children that are held in awe From them we drew our vitall breath they challenge dutie then by law Such dutie as kills not true Loue They haue quoth hee a kinde of sway on these our earthly bodies here But with our soules deale not they may the God of loue doth hold them deere He is most meet to rule true loue I know said she t is worse then hell when Parents choise must please our eyes Great hurt comes thereby I can tell forc'd loue in desperate danger dies Faire Maid then fancie thy true loue If wee quoth he might see the houre of that sweet state which neuer ends Our heauenly gree might haue the power to make our Parents as deere friends All ranck our yeelds to soueraigne loue Then God of loue said she consent and shew some wonder of thy power Our Parents and our owne content may be confirmde by such an houre Graunt greatest God to further loue The Fathers who did alwaies tend when thus they got their priuate walke As happy fortune chaunc'd to send vnknowne to each heard all this talke Poore soules to be so crost in loue Behinde the hills whereon they sate they lay this while and listned all And were so mooued both thereat that hate in each began to fall Such is the power of sacred loue They shewed themselues in open sight poore Louers Lord how they were mazde And hand in hand the Fathers plight whereat poore harts they gladly gazde Hope now begins to further loue And to confirme a mutuall band of loue that at no time should cease They likewise ioyned hand in hand the Shepheard and the Shepheardesse Like fortune still befall true loue FINIS Shep. Ionie Another of Astrophell THE Nightingale so soone as Aprill bringeth Vnto her rested sense a perfect waking While late bare earth proud of new clothing springeth Sings out her woes a thorne her Song-booke making And mournefully bewailing Her throate in tunes expresseth What griefe her breast oppresseth For Tereus force on her chast will preuailing Oh Philomela faire oh take some gladnes That here is iuster cause of plaintfull sadnes Thine earth now springs mine fadeth Thy throne without my thorne my hart inuadeth Alas she hath no other cause of languish But Tereus loue on her by strong hand wroken Wherein she suffering all her spirits languish Full woman-like complaines her will