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
and make it sweete For such a Goddesse it is meete For if her eyes for purity contend with Titans light No meruaile then although they so doe dazell humane sight Sound out your Trumpets then from Londons stately Towers To beat the stormie winds a-backe and calme the raging showers Set to the Cornet and the Flute The Orpharion and the Lute And tune the Taber and the Pipe to the sweet Violons And moue the thunder in the ayre with lowdest Clarions Beta long may thine Altars smoake with yeerely sacrifice And long thy sacred Temples may their Sabbaths solemnise Thy Shepheards watch by day and night Thy Maides attend the holy light And thy large Empire stretch her armes from East vnto the West And Albion on the Appenines aduance her conquering crest FINIS Mich. Drayton ¶ The Barginet of Antimachus IN pride of youth in midst of May When birds with many a merry Lay salute the Sunnes vp-rising I sate me downe fast by a Spring And while these merry Chaunters sing I fell vpon surmizing Amidst my doubt and minds debate Of change of time of worlds estate I spyed a boy attired In siluer plumes yet naked quite Saue pretty feathers fit for flight wherewith he still aspired A bowe he bare to worke mens wrack A little Quiuer at his back with many arrowes filled And in his soft and pretty hand He held a liuely burning brand where-with he Louers killed Fast by his side in rich aray There sate a louely Lady gay his mother as I guessed That set the Lad vpon her knee And trimd his bow and taught him flee and mickle Loue professed Oft from her lap at sundry stowres He leapt and gathered Sommer flowres both Violets and Roses But see the chaunce that followed fast As he the pompe of prime doth wast before that he supposes A Bee that harbour'd hard thereby Did sting his hand and made him cry Oh Mother I am wounded Faire Venus that beheld her Sonne Cryed out alas I am vndone and there-vpon she swounded My little Lad the Goddesse sayd Who hath my Cupid so dismayd he answered Gentle Mother The hony-worker in the Hiue My griefe and mischiefe doth contriue alas it is none other Shee kist the Lad Now marke the chaunce And strait she fell into a traunce and crying thus concluded Ah wanton boy like to the Bee Thou with a kisse hast wounded mee and haplesse Loue included A little Bee doth thee affright But ah my wounds are full of spright and cannot be recured The boy that kist his Mothers paine Gan smile and kist her whole againe and made her hope assured She suckt the wound and swag'd the sting And little Loue ycurde did sing then let no Louers sorrow To day though griefe attaint his hart Let him with courage bide the smart amends will come to morrow FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ Menaphons Roundelay VVHen tender Ewes brought home with euening Sunne Wend to their Folds And to their holds The Shepheards trudge when light of day is done Vpon a tree The Eagle Ioues faire bird did pearch There resteth hee A little Fly his harbour then did search And did presume though others laugh'd thereat To pearch whereas the Princely Eagle sat The Eagle Frown'd and shooke his royall wings And charg'd the Flie From thence to hie Afraide in hast the little creature flings Yet seekes againe Fearefull to pearke him by the Eagles side With moodie vaine The speedie poast of Ganimede replide Vassaile auaunt or with my wings you die Is' t fit an Eagle seate him with a Flie The Flie crau'd pittie still the Eagle frownd The silly Flie Ready to die Disgrac'd displac'd fell groueling to the ground The Eagle sawe And with a royall minde said to the Flie Be not in awe I scorne by me the meanest creature die Then seate thee here The ioyfull Flie vp-flings And sate safe shadowed with the Eagles wings FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ A Pastorall of Phillis and Coridon ON a Hill there growes a flower faire befall the daintie sweet By that flower there is a Bower Where the heauenly Muses meet In that Bower there is a chaire fringed all about with gold Where doth sit the fairest faire that euer eye did yet behold It is Phillis faire and bright shee that is the Shepheards ioy Shee that Venus did despight and did blinde her little boy This is shee the wise the rich that the world desires to see This is ipsa quae the which there is none but onely shee Who would not this face admire who would not this Saint adore Who would not this sight desire though he thought to see no more Oh faire eyes yet let mee see one good looke and I am gone Looke on me for I am hee thy poore silly Coridon Thou that art the Shepheards Queene looke vpon thy silly Swaine By thy comfort haue beene seene dead men brought to life againe FINIS N. Breton ¶ Coridon and Melampus Song Cor. MElampus when will Loue be void of feares Mel. When Ielousie hath neither eyes nor eares Cor. Melampus when will Loue be throughly shrieued Mel. When it is hard to speake and not belieued Cor. Melampus when is Loue most male content Mel. When Louers range and beare their bowes vnbent Cor. Melampus tell me when takes Loue least harme Mel. When Swaines sweet pipes are puft and Truls are warme Cor. Melampus tell me when is Loue best fed Mel. When it hath suck'd the sweet that ease hath bred Cor. Melampus when is time in Loue ill spent Mel. When it earnes meed and yet receaues no rent Cor. Melampus when is time well spent in Loue Mel. When deeds win meeds and words Loue workes doe proue FINIS Geor. Peele ¶ Tityrus to his faire Phillis THE silly Swaine whose loue breeds discontent Thinkes death a trifle life a loathsome thing Sad he lookes sad he lyes But when his fortunes mallice doth relent Then of loues sweetnes he will sweetly sing thus he liues thus he dies Then Tityrus whom Loue hath happy made Will rest thrice happy in this Mirtle shade For though Loue at first did greeue him yet did Loue at last releeue him FINIS I. D. ¶ Shepheard SWeet thrall first step to Loues felicitie Shepheardesse Sweet thrall no stop to perfect libertie Hee O life Shee what life Hee Sweet life Shee No life more sweet Hee O Loue. Shee What loue Hee Sweet loue Shee No loue more meet FINIS I. M. Another of the same Authour FIelds were ouer-spread with flowers Fairest choise of Floraes treasure Shepheards there had shady Bowers Where they oft repos'd with pleasure Meadowes flourish'd fresh and gay where the wanton Heards did play Springs more cleare then Christall streames Seated were the Groues among Thus nor Titans scorching beames Nor earths drouth could Shepheards wrong Faire Pomonaes fruitfull pride did the budding branches hide Flockes of sheepe fed on the Plaines Harmelesse sheepe that roamd at large Heere and there sate pensiue Swaines Wayting on their wandring charge Pensiue
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
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
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
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
sorrow being disdained in Loue. Thom. Lodge A Pastorall Song betweene Phillis and Amarillis two Nimphs each answering other line for line H. C. The Shepheards Antheme Mich. Drayton The Countesse of Pembrokes Pastorall Shep. Tonie Another of Astrophell Sir Phil. Sidney An Inuectiue against Loue. Ignoto Faire Phillis and her Shepheard I. G. The Shepheards Song of Venus and Adonis H. C. Thirsis the Shepheard his deaths Song Out of M. N. Young his Musica Transalpina Another Stanza added after Out of the same Another Sonnet thence taken Ignoto The Shepheards slumber Ignoto Dispraise of Loue and Louers follies Ignoto Another Sonnet Sir Phil. Sidney Of disdainefull Daphne M. N. Howell The passionate Shepheard to his Loue. Chr. Marlow The Nimphs reply to the Shepheard Ignoto Another of the same nature made since Ignoto Two Pastorals vpon three friends meeting Sir Phil. Sidney The wood-mans walke Shep. Tonie Thirsis the Shepheards to his Pipe Ignoto An Heroycall Poeme Ignoto An excellent Sonnet of a Nimph. Sir Phil. Sidney A Report Song in a dreame betweene a Shepheard and his Nimph. N. Breton Another of the same N. Breton The Louers absence kils me her presence cures me Ignoto The Shepheard conceit of Prometheus S. E. D. Another of the same Sir Phil. Sidney The Shepheards Sunne Shep. Tonie Loue the onely price of Loue. Ignoto Colin the enamored Shepheard singeth the passion of loue Geo. Peele Oenones complaint in blanke verse Geo. Peele The Shepheards Consort Out of M. Morleys Madrigals Thirsis praise of his Mistresse W. Browne A defiance to disdainefull Loue. Ignoto An Epithalamium or a Nuptiall Song applied to the Ceremonies of Marriage Christopher Brooke FINIS ENGLANDS HELICON ¶ The Shepheard to his chosen Nimph. ONely ioy now heere you are Fit to heare and ease my care Let my whispring voyce obtaine Sweet reward for sharpest paine Take mee to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Night hath clos'd all in her cloke Twinkling starres Loue-thoughts prouoke Daunger hence good care doth keepe Iealousie it selfe doth sleepe Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Better place no wit can finde Cupids yoake to loose or binde These sweet flowers on fine bed too Vs in their best language woo Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be This small light the Moone bestowes Serues thy beames but to enclose So to raise my hap more hie Feare not else none can vs spie Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deare let be That you heard was but a Mouse Dumbe sleepe holdeth all the house Yet a-sleepe me thinks they say Young folkes take time while you may Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Niggard Time threats if we misse This large offer of our blisse Long stay ere he grant the same Sweet then while each thing doth frame Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Your faire Mother is a bed Candles out and Curtaines spred She thinks you doe Letters write Write but let me first indite Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Sweet alas why saine you thus Concord better fitteth vs. Leaue to Mars the force of hands Your power in your beauty stands Take me to thee and thee to me No no no no my Deere let be Woe to me and you doe sweare Me to hate but I forbeare Cursed be my destinies all That brought me to so high a fall Soone with my death I will please thee No no no no my Deere let be FINIS Sir Phil. Sidney THEORELLO ¶ A Shepheards Edillion YOu Shepheards which on hillocks lit like Princes in their Thrones And guide your Flocks which else would flit your Flocks of little ones Good Kings haue not disdained it but Shepheards haue beene named A sheepe-hooke is a Scepter fit for people well reclaimed The Shepheards life so honour'd is and praised That Kings lesse happy seeme though higher raised The Summer Sunne hath guilded faire with morning rayes the Mountaines The birds doe caroll in the ayre and naked Nimphs in Fountaines The Siluanes in their shagged haire with Hamadriades trace The shadie Satires make a Quiere which rockes with Ecchoes grace All breathe delight all solace in the season Not now to sing were enemie to Reason Cosma my Loue and more then so the life of mine affections Nor life alone but Lady too and Queene of their directions Cosma my Loue is fayre you know and which you Shepheards know not Is Sophi said thence called so but names her beautie show not Yet hath the world no better-name then she And then the world no fairer thing can be The Sunne vpon her fore-head stands or iewell Sunne-like glorious Her fore-head wrought with Ioues owne hands for heauenly white notorious Her golden lockes like Hermus sands or then bright Hermus brighter A spangled Cauill binds in with bands then siluer morning lighter And if the Planets are the chiefe in skies No other starres then Planets are her eyes Her cheeke her lip fresh cheeke more fresh then selfe-blowne buds of Roses Rare lip more red then those of flesh which thousand sweetes encloses Sweet breath which all things doth refresh and words then breath farre sweeter Cheeke firme lip firme not fraile nor nesh as substance which is fleeter In praise doe not surmount although in placing Her christall necke round breasts and armes embracing The thorough-shining ayre I weene is not so perfect cleare As is the skie of her faire skinne whereon no spots appeare The parts which ought not to be seene for soueraigne worth excell Her thighs with Azure braunched beene and all in her are well Long Iuorie hands legs straighter then the Pine Well shapen feet but vertue most diuine Nor cloathed like a Shepheardesse but rather like a Queene Her mantle doth the formes expresse of all which may be seene Roabe fitter for an Empresse then for a Shepheards loue Roabe fit alone for such a Lasse as Emperours doth moue Roabe which heauens Queene the bride of her owne brother Would grace herselfe with or with such another Who euer and who else but Ioue embroidered the same He knew the world and what did moue in all the mightie frame So well belike his skill to proue the counterfeits he wrought Of Wood-Gods and of euery Groue and all which else was ought Is there a beast a bird a fish worth note Then that he drew and pictur'd in her coate Availe of Lawne like vapour thin vnto her anckle trailes Through which the shapes discerned bin as too and fro it sailes Shapes both of men who neuer lin to search her wonders out Of Monsters and of Gods a kin which her empale about A little world her flowing garment seemes And who but as a wonder thereof deemes For here and there appeare forth towers among the chalkie downes
Cities among the Country bowers which smiling Sun-shine crownes Her mettall buskins deckt with flowers as th' earth when frosts are gone Besprinkled are with Orient showers of hayle and pebble stone Her feature peerelesse peerelesse her attire I can but loue her loue with zeale entire O who can sing her beauties best or that remaines vnsung Doe thou Apollo tune the rest vnworthy is my tongue To gaze on her is to be blest so wondrous faire her face is Her fairenesse cannot be exprest in Goddesses nor Graces I loue my Loue the goodly worke of Nature Admire her face but more admire her stature On thee O Cosma will I gaze and reade thy beauties euer Delighting in the blessed maze which can be ended neuer For in the luster of thy rayes appeares thy Parents brightnesse Who himselfe infinite displayes in thee his proper greatnesse My Song must end but neuer my desire For Cosma's face is Theorellos fire FINIS E. B. Astrophels Loue is dead RIng out your Belles let mourning shewes be spread For Loue is dead All loue is dead infected With plague of deepe disdaine Worth as nought worth reiected And faith faire scorne doth gaine From so vngratefull fancie From such a female frenzie From them that vse men thus Good Lord deliuer vs. Weepe neighbours weepe doe you not heare it said That Loue is dead His death-bed Peacocks folly His winding sheet is shame His will false seeming holy His sole exectour blame From so vngratefull fancie From such a female frenzie From them that vse men thus Good Lord deliuer vs. Let Dirge be sung and Trentals richly read For Loue is dead And wrong his Tombe ordaineth My Mistresse marble hart Which Epitaph containeth Her eyes were once his Dart. From so vngratefull fancie From such a female frenzie From them that vse men thus Good Lord deliuer vs. Alas I lie rage hath this errour bred Loue is not dead Loue is not dead but sleepeth In her vnmatched minde Where she his counsell keepeth Till due desert shee finde Therefore from so vile fancie To call such wit a frenzie Who loue can temper thus Good Lord deliuer vs. FINIS Sir Phil. Sidney ¶ A Palinode AS withereth the Primrose by the riuer As fadeth Summers-Sunne from gliding fountaines As vanisheth the light blowne bubble euer As melteth Snow vpon the mossie Mountaines So melts so vanisheth so fades so withers The Rose the shine the bubble and the snow Of praise pompe glory ioy which short life gathers Faire praise vaine pompe sweet glory brittle ioy The withered Primrose by the mourning riuer The faded Summers-sunne from weeping fountaines The light-blowne bubble vanished for euer The molten snow vpon the naked mountaines Are Emblems that the treasures we vp-lay Soone wither vanish fade and melt away For as the snow whose lawne did ouer-spread Th' ambitious hils which Giant-like did threat To pierce the heauen with their aspiring head Naked and bare doth leaue their craggie seat When as the bubble which did empty flie The daliance of the vndiscerned winde On whose calme rowling waues it did relie Hath shipwrack mad◠where it did daliance finde And when the Sun-shine which dissolu'd the snow Colourd the bubble with a pleasant varie And made the rathe and timely Primrose grow Swarth clouds with-drawne which longer time do tarie Oh what is praise pompe glory ioy but so As shine by fountaines bubbles flowers or snow FINIS E. B. ¶ Astrophell the Shepheard his complaint to his Flocke GOe my Flocke goe get yee hence Seeke a better place of feeding Where yee may haue some defence From the stormes in my breast breeding And showers from mine eyes proceeding Leaue a wretch in whom all woe can abide to keepe no measure Merry Flocke such one forgoe vnto whom mirth is displeasure onely rich in mischiefes treasure Yet alas before you goe heare your wofull Maisters Storie Which to stones I else would showe sorrow onely then hath glorie when 't is excellently sorrie Stella fiercest Shepheardesse fiercest but yet fairest euer Stella whom the heauens still blesse though against me she perseuer though I blisse inherite neuer Stella hath refused me Stella who more loue hath proued In this Caitiffe heart to be Then can in good by vs be moued Towards Lambkins best beloued Stella hath refused me Astrophell that so well serued In this pleasant Spring must see while in pride flowers be preserued himselfe onely Winter-sterued Why alas then doth she sweare that she loueth me so dearely Seeing me so long to beare coales of loue that burne so clearely and yet leaue me helplesse meerely Is that loue Forsooth I trow if I saw my good dogge greeued And a helpe for him did know my Loue should not be beleeued but he were by me releeued No she hates me well away faigning loue somewhat to please me Knowing if she should display all her hate Death soone would seaze me and of hideous torments ease me Then my deare Flocke now adiew but alas if in your straying Heauenly Stella meete with you tell her in your pittious blaying her poore slaues vniust decaying FINIS S. Phil. Sidney ¶ Hobbinolls Dittie in praise of Eliza Queene of the Shepheards YE dainty Nimphes that in this blessed Brooke Doe bath your brest Forsake your watry Bowers and hether looke At my request And you faire Virgins that on Parnasse dwell Whence floweth Helicon the learned well Helpe me to blaze Her worthy praise Who in her sexe doth all excell Of faire Eliza be your siluer song That blessed wight The flower of Virgins may she flourish long In Princely plight For she is Sirinx daughter without spot Which Pan the Shepheards God on her begot So sprung her Grace Of heauenly race No mortall blemish may her blot See where she sits vpon the grassie greene O seemely sight Yclad in scarlet like a mayden Queene And Ermines white Vpon her head a crimson Coronet With Daffadils and Damaske Roses set Bay leaues betweene And Primeroses greene Embellish the sweet Violet Tell me haue ye beheld her Angels face Like Phoebe faire Her heauenly hauiour her Princely Grace Can well compare The red-Rose medled and the white yfere In either cheeke depeincten liuely cheere Her modest eye Her Maiestie Where haue you seene the like but there I saw Phoebus thrust out his golden head On her to gaze But when he saw how broad her beames did spread It did him maze He blusht to see another Sunne below Ne durst againe his fierie face out-show Let him if he dare His brightnesse compare With hers to haue the ouerthrow Shew thy selfe Cynthia with thy siluer rayes And be not abasht When she the beames of her beauty displayes Oh how art thou dasht But I will not match her with Latonaes seed Such folly great sorrow to Niobe did breed Now is she a stone And makes deadly mone Warning all other to take heed Pan may be proud that euer he begot Such a Bellibone And Sirinx reioyce that euer was her
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
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
reliefe I feare a mayd that I shall die If that be all the Shepheard sayd heigh hoe the Shepheard sayd He make thee wiue it gentle Mayde and so recure thy maladie Hereon they kist with many an oath heigh hoe many an oath And fore God Pan did plight their troath so to the Church apace they hie And God send euery pretty peate heigh hoe the pretty peate That feares to die of this conceit so kinde a friend to helpe at last Then Maydes shall neuer long againe heigh hoe to long againe When they finde ease for such a paine thus my Roundelay is past FINIS Thom. Lodge ¶ The Shepheards Sonnet MY fairest Ganimede disdaine me not Though silly Shepheard I presume to loue thee Though my harsh Songs and Sonnets cannot moue thee Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot Apollo Ioue and many Gods beside S'dain'd not the name of Country Shepheard Swaines Nor want we pleasures though we take some paines We liue contentedly A thing call'd pride Which so corrupts the Court and euery place Each place I meane where learning is neglected And yet of late euen learnings selfe 's infected I know not what it meanes in any case We onely when Molorchus gins to peepe Learne for to fold and to vnfold our Sheepe FINIS Rich. Barnefield ¶ Seluagia and Siluanus their Songs to Diana Sel. I See thee iolly Shepheard merrie And firme thy faith and sound as a berry Sil. Loue gaue me ioy and Fortune gaue it As my desire could wish to haue it Sel. What didst thou wish tell me sweet Louer Whereby thou might'st such ioy recouer Sil. To loue where loue should be inspired Since there 's no more to be desired Sel. In this great glory and great gladnes T'hinkst thou to haue no touch of sadnes Sil. Good Fortune gaue me not such glory To mock my Loue or make me sorrie Sel. If my firme loue I were denying Tell me with sighs would'st thou be dying Sil. Those words in ieast to heare thee speaking For very griefe this hart is breaking Sel. Yet would'st thou change I pre-thee tell me In seeing one that did excell me Sil. O no for how can I aspire To more then to mine owne desire Sel. Such great affection do'st thou beare me As by thy words thou seem'st to sweare me Sil. Of thy deserts to which a debter I am thou maist demaund this better Sel. Sometimes me thinks that I should sweare it Sometimes me thinks thou should'st not beare it Sil. Onely in this my hap doth grieue me And my desire not to beleeue me Sel. Imagine that thou do'st not loue mine But some braue beautie that 's aboue mine Sil. To such a thing sweet doe not will me Where fayning of the same doth kill me Sel. I see thy firmenesse gentle Louer More then my beautie can discouer Sil. And my good fortune to be higher Then my desert but not desire FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ Montanus his Madrigall IT was a Vallie gawdie greene Where Dian at the Fount was seene Greene it was And did passe All other of Dianaes bowers In the pride of Floraes flowers A Fount it was that no Sunne sees Cirkled in with Cipres trees Set so nie As Phaebus eye Could not doe the Virgins scathe To see them naked when they bathe She sate there all in white Colour fitting her delight Virgins so Ought to goe For white in Armorie is plaste To be the colour that is chaste Her taffata Cassock you might see Tucked vp aboue her knee Which did show There below Legges as white as Whales bone So white and chaste was neuer none Hard by her vpon the ground Sate her Virgins in a round Bathing their Golden haire And singing all in notes hie Fie on Venus flattering eye Fie on Loue it is a toy Cupid witlesse and a boy All his fires And desires Are plagues that God sent from on hie To pester men with miserie As thus the Virgins did disdaine Louers ioy and Louers paine Cupid nie Did espie Greeuing at Dianaes Song Slily stole these Maides among His bow of steele darts of fire He shot amongst them sweet desire Which straite flies In their eyes And at the entrance made them start For it ranne from eye to hart Calisto straite supposed Ioue Was faire and frolique for to loue Dian she Scap'd not free For well I wote heere vpon She lou'd the Swaine Endimion Clitia Phaebus and Chloris eye Thought none so faire as Mercurie Venus thus Did discusse By her Sonne in darts of fire None so chaste to check desire Dian rose with all her Maydes Blushing thus at Loues braides With sighs all Shew their thrall And flinging thence pronounc'd this saw What so strong as Loues sweet law FINIS Ro. Greene. ¶ Astrophell to Stella his third Song IF Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musiques loue Through pores of sencelesse trees as it could make them moue If stones good measure daunc'd the Thebane walls to build To cadence of the times which Amphyons Lyre did yeeld More cause a like effect at least-wise bringeth O stones O trees learne hearing Stella singeth If Loue might sweet'n so a boy of Shepheards broode To make a Lyzard dull to taste Loues daintie food If Eagle fierce could so in Grecian Mayde delight As his light was her eyes her death his endlesse night Earth gaue that Loue heau'n I trow Loue defineth O Beasts O Birds looke Loue loe Stella shineth The birds stones and trees feele this and feeling Loue And if the trees nor stones stirre not the same to proue Nor beasts nor birds doe come vnto this blessed gaze Know that small Loue is quicke and great Loue doth amaze They are amaz'd but you with reason armed O eyes O eares of men how are you charmed FINIS S. Phil. Sidney ¶ A Song betweene Syrenus and Syluanus Syrenus VVHo hath of Cupids cates dainties praied May feed his stomach with them at his pleasure If in his drinke some ease he hath assayed Then let him quench his thirsting without measure And if his weapons pleasant in their manner Let him embrace his standard and his banner For being free from him and quite exempted Ioyfull I am and proud and well contented Syluanus Of Cupids daintie cates who hath not prayed May be depriued of them at his pleasure If wormewood in his drinke he hath assayed Let him not quench his thirsting without measure And if his weapons in their cruell manner Let him abiure his standard and his banner For I not free from him and not exempted Ioyfull I am and proud and well contented Syrenus Loue 's so expert in giuing many a trouble That now I know not why he should be praised He is so false so changing and so double That with great reason he must be dispraised Loue in the end is such aiarring passion That none should trust vnto his peeuish fashion For of all mischiefe he 's the onely Master And to my good a torment and disaster Syluanus
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
I burne Without rest No defensiue power Shields from Phoebus lower sorrow is my best Gentle Loue Lower no more If thou wilt inuade In the secret shade Labour not so sore I my selfe And my flocks They their Loue to please I my selfe to ease Both leaue the shadie Oakes Content to burne in fire Sith Loue doth so desire FINIS S. E. D. ¶ The Nimph Seluagia her Song SHepheard who can passe such wrong And a life in woes so deepe Which to liue is too long As it is too short to weepe Grieuous sighs in vaine I waste Leesing my affiance and I perceaue my hope at last with a candle in the hand What time then to hope among bitter hopes that neuer sleepe When this life is too too long as it is too short to weepe This griefe which I feele so rife wretch I doe deserue as hire Since I came to put my life in the hands of my desire Then cease not my complaints so strong for though life her course doth keepe It is not to liue so long as it is too short to weepe FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ The Heard-mans happie life VVHat pleasure haue great Princes more daintie to their choice Then Heardmen wilde who carelesse in quiet life reioyce And Fortunes Fate not fearing Sing sweet in Sommer morning Their dealings plaine and rightfull are voyd of all deceit They neuer know how spightfull it is to kneele and waite On fauourite presumptuous Whose pride is vaine and sumptuous All day their flocks each tendeth at night they take their rest More quiet then who sendeth his ship into the East Where Gold and Pearle are plentie But getting very daintie For Lawyers and their pleading they ' steeme it not a straw They thinke that honest meaning is of it selfe a law Where conscience iudgeth plainely They spend no money vainely Oh happy who thus liueth not caring much for gold With cloathing which sufficeth to keepe him from the cold Though poore and plaine his diet Yet merry it is and quiet FINIS Out of M. Birds set Songs ¶ Cinthia the Nimph her Song to faire Polydora NEere to the Riuer bankes with greene And pleasant trees on euery side Where freest minds would most haue beene That neuer felt braue Cupids pride To passe the day and tedious howers Amongst those painted meades and flowers A certaine Shepheard full of woe Syrenus call'd his flocks did feede Not sorrowfull in outward show But troubled with such griefe indeed As cruell Loue is wont t' impart Vnto a painefull louing hart This Shepheard euery day did die For loue he to Diana bare A Shepheardesse so fine perdie So liuely young and passing faire Excelling more in beauties feature Then any other humane creature Who had not any thing of all She had but was extreame in her For meanely wise none might her call Nor meanely faire for he did erre If so he did but should deuise Her name of passing faire and wise Fauours on him she did bestow Which if she had not then be sure He might haue suffered all that woe Which afterward he did endure When he was gone with lesser paine And at his comming home againe For when indeed the hart is free From suffering paine or torment smart If wisedome doth not ouer-see And beareth not the greatest part The smallest griefe and care of minde Doth make it captiue to their kinde Neere to a Riuer swift and great That famous Ezla had to name The carefull Shepheard did repeate The feares he had by absence blame Which he suspect where he did keepe And feede his gentle Lambs and Sheepe And now sometimes he did behold His Shepheardesse that there about Was on the mountaines of that old And auncient Leon seeking out From place to place the pastures best Her Lambes to feede her selfe to rest And sometime musing as he lay When on those hils shee was not seene Was thinking of that happy day When Cupid gaue him such a Queene Of beautie and such cause of ioy Wherein his minde he did imploy Yet said poore man when he did see Himselfe so sunke in sorrowes pit The good that Loue hath giuen me I onely doe imagine it Because this neerest harme and trouble Hereafter I should suffer double The Sunne for that it did decline The carelesse man did not offend With fierie beames which scarce did shine But that which did of loue depend And in his hart did kindle fire Of greater flames and hote desire Him did his passions all inuite The greene leaues blowne with gentle winde Christaline streames with their delight And Nightingales were not behinde To helpe him in his louing verse Which to himselfe he did rehearse FINIS Bar. Yong. ¶ The Shepheard to the Flowers SWeet Violets Loues Paradise that spread Your gracious odours which you couched beare Within your palie faces Vpon the gentle wing of some calme-breathing-winde That playes amidst the Plaine If by the fauour of propitious starres you gaine Such grace as in my Ladies bosome place to finde Be proud to touch those places And when her warmth your moysture forth doth weare Whereby her daintie parts are sweetly fed Your honours of the flowrie Meades I pray You pretty daughters of the Earth and Sunne With milde and seemely breathing straite display My bitter sighs that haue my hart vndone Vermillion Roses that with new dayes rise Display your crimson solds fresh locking faire Whose radiant bright disgraces The rich adorned rayes of roseate rising morne Ah if her Virgins hand Doe pluck your pure ere Phoebus view the land And vaile your gracious pompe in louely Natures scorne If chaunce my Mistresse traces Fast by your flowers to take the Sommers ayre Then wofull blushing tempt her glorious eyes To spread their teares Adonis death reporting And tell Loues torment sorrowing for her friend Whose drops of bloud within your leaues consorting Report faire Venus moanes to haue no end Then may remorse in pittying of my smart Drie vp my teares and dwell within her hart FINIS Ignoto ¶ The Shepheard Arsilius his Song to his Rebeck NOw Loue and Fortune turne to me againe And now each one enforceth and assures A hope that was dismayed dead and vaine And from the harbour of mishaps assures A hart that is consum'd in burning fire With vnexpected gladnesse that admires My soule to lay a-side her mourning tire And senses to prepare a place for ioy Care in obliuion endlesse shall expire For euery griefe of that extreame annoy Which when my torment raign'd my soule alas Did feele the which long absence did destroy Fortune so well appayes that neuer was So great the torment of my passed ill As is the ioy of this same good I passe Returne my hart sursaulted with the fill Of thousand great vnrests thousand feares Enioy thy good estate if that thou will And wearied eyes leaue off your burning teares For soone you shall behold her with delight For whom my spoiles with glory Cupid beares Senses which seeke my starre
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 of pleasure and louely Nectar sweet from them he tasted His daintie Nimph that now at hand espied the haruest of Loues treasure Said thus with eyes all trembling faint and wasted I die now The Shepheard then replied and I sweet life doe die to Thus these two Louers fortunately died Of death so sweet so happy and so desired That to die so againe their life retired FINIS Out of Maister N. Young his Musica Transalpina ¶ Another Stanza added after THirsis enioyed the graces Of Chloris sweet embraces Yet both their ioyes were scanted For darke it was and candle-light they wanted Wherewith kinde Cynthia in the heauen that shined her nightly vaile resigned and her faire face disclosed Then each from others lookes such ioy deriued That both with meere delight died and reuiued FINIS Out of the same ¶ Another Sonnet thence taken ZEphirus brings the time that sweetly senteth with flowers and hearbs which Winters frost exileth Progne now chirpeth Philomel lamenteth Flora the Garlands white and red compileth Fields doe reioyce the frowning skie relenteth Ioue to behold his dearest daughter smileth The ayre the water the earth to ioy consenteth each creature now to loue him reconcileth But with me wretch the stormes of woe perseuer and heauie sighs which from my heart she straineth That tooke the key thereof to heauen for euer so that singing of birds and spring-times flowring And Ladies loue that mens affection gaineth are like a Desert and cruell beasts deuouring FINIS ¶ The Shepheards slumber IN Pescod time when Hound to horne giues eare till Buck be kild And little Lads with Pipes of corne sate keeping beasts a field I went to gather Strawberies tho by Woods and Groaues full faire And parcht my face with Phoebus so in walking in the ayre That downe I layde me by a streame with boughs all ouer-clad And there I met the strangest dreame that euer Shepheard had Me thought I saw each Christmas game each reuell all and some And euery thing that I can name or may in fancie come The substance of the sights I saw in silence passe they shall Because I lacke the skill to draw the order of them all But Venus shall not passe my pen whose maydens in disdaine Did feed vpon the hearts of men that Cupids bowe had slaine And that blinde Boy was all in blood be-bath'd vp to the eares And like a Conquerour he stood and scorned Louers teares I haue quoth he more hearts at call then Caesar could command And like the Deare I make them fall that runneth o're the lawnd One drops downe here another there in bushes as they groane I bend a scornfull carelesse eare to heare them make their moane Ah Sir quoth Honest Meaning then thy boy-like brags I heare When thou hast wounded many a man as Hunts-man doth the Deare Becomes it thee to triumph so thy Mother wills it not For she had rather breake thy bowe then thou should'st play the sot What saucie merchant speaketh now said Venus in her rage Art thou so blinde thou knowest not how I gouerne euery age My Sonne doth shoote no shaft in wast to me the Boy is bound He neuer found a heart so chast but he had power to wound Not so faire Goddesse quoth Free-will in me there is a choise And cause I am of mine owne ill if I in thee reioyce And when I yeeld my selfe a slaue to thee or to thy Sonne Such recompence I ought not haue if things be rightly done Why foole stept forth Delight and said when thou art conquer'd thus Then loe dame Lust that wanton Maid thy Mistresse is iwus And Lust is Cupids darling deere behold her where she goes She creepes the milk-warme flesh so neere she hides her vnder close Where many priuie thoughts doe dwell a heauen here on earth For they haue neuer minde of hell they thinke so much on mirth Be still Good Meaning quoth Good Sport let Cupid triumph make For sure his Kingdome shall be short if we no pleasure take Faire Beautie and her play-feares gay the virgins Vestalles to Shall sit and with their fingers play as idle people doe If Honest Meaning fall to frowne and I Good Sport decay Then Venus glory will come downe and they will pine away Indeede quoth Wit this your deuice with strangenesse must be wrought And where you see these women nice and looking to be sought With scowling browes their follies check and so giue them the Fig Let Fancie be no more at beck when Beautie lookes so big When Venus heard how they conspir'd to murther women so Me thought indeede the house was fier'd with stormes and lightning tho The thunder-bolt through windowes burst and in their steps a wight Which seem'd some soule or sprite accurst so vgly was the sight I charge you Ladies all quoth he looke to your selues in hast For if that men so wilfull be and haue their thoughts so chast That they can tread on Cupids brest and martch on Venus face Then they shall sleepe in quiet rest when you shall waile your case With that had Venus all in spight stir'd vp the Dames to ire And Lust fell cold and Beautie white sate babling with Desire Whos 's mutt'ring words I might not marke much whispering there arose The day did lower the Sunne wext darke away each Lady goes But whether went this angry flock our Lord himselfe doth know Wherewith full lowdly crew the Cock and I awaked so A dreame quoth I a dogge it is I take thereon no keepe I gage my head such toyes as this doth spring from lacke of sleepe FINIS ¶ Dispraise of Loue and Louers follies IF Loue be life I long to die Liue they that lift forme And he that gaines the most thereby A foole at least shall be But he that feeles the sorest fits Scapes with no lesse then losse of wits Vnhappy life they gaine Which Loue doe entertaine In day by fained lookes they liue By lying dreames in night Each frowne a deadly wound doth giue Each smile a false delight If 't hap their Lady pleasant seeme It is for others loue they deeme If voide she seeme of ioy Disdaine doth make her coy Such is the peace that Louers finde Such is the life they leade Blowne here and there with euery winde Like flowers in the Mead. Now warre now peace now warre againe Desire despaire delight disdaine Though dead in midst of life In peace and yet at strife FINIS Ignoto ¶ Another Sonet IN wonted walkes since wonted fancies change Some cause there is which of strange cause doth rise For in each thing whereto my minde doth range Part of my paine me seemes engraued lies The Rockes which were of constant minde the marke In climbing steepe now hard refusall show The shading Woods seeme now my sunne to darke And stately hills disdaine to looke so
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