thee spoile his hart and inward sences A publique passion Natures lawes restrayning And which with words can neuer be declared A soule twixt loue and feare and desperation And endlesse plaint that shuns all consolation A spendlesse flame that neuer is impaired A friendlesse death yet life in death maintayning A passion that is gayning On him that loueth well and is absented Whereby it is augmented A iealousie a burning greefe and sorrow These fauours Louers borrow Of thee fell Loue these be thy recompences Consuming still their soule and inward sences Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Arsileus replie to Syrenus Song O Let that time a thousand moneths endure Which brings from heauen the sweet and siluer showers And ioyes the earth of comfort late depriued With grasse and leaues fine buds and painted flowers Ecchoe returne vnto the vvoods obscure Ring foorth the Sheepheards Songs in loue contriued Let old loues be reuiued Which angry Winter buried but of late And that in such a state My soule may haue the full accomplishment Of ioy and sweet content And since fierce paines and greefes thou doost controule Good Loue doo not forsake my inward soule Presume not Sheepheards once to make you merrie With springs and flowers or any pleasant Song Vnlesse mild Loue possesse your amorous breasts If you sing not to him your Songs doo wearie Crowne him with flowers or else ye doo him wrong And consecrate your Springs to his behests I to my Sheepheardesse My happy loues with great content doo sing And flowers to her doo bring And sitting neere her by the Riuer side Enioy the braue Spring-tide Since then thy ioyes such sweetnes dooth enroule Good Loue doo not forsake my inward soule The wise in auncient time a God thee nam'd Seeing that with thy power and supreame might Thou didst such rare and mighty wonders make For thee a hart is frozen and enflam'd A foole thou mak'st a wise man with thy light The coward turnes couragious for thy sake The mighty Gods did quake At thy commaund To birds and beasts tranformed Great Monarches haue not scorned To yeeld vnto the force of beauties lure Such spoiles thou doost procure With thy braue force which neuer may be tould With which sweet Loue thou conquer'st euery soule In other times obscurely I did liue But with a drowsie base and simple kinde Of life and onely to my profit bend me To thinke of Loue my selfe I did not giue Or for good grace good parts and gentle minde Neuer did any Sheepheardesse commend me But crowned now they send me A thousand Garlands that I wone with praise In wrastling dayes by dayes In pitching of the barre with arme most strong And singing many a Song After that thou didst honour and take hould Of my sweet Loue and of my happy soule What greater ioy can any man desire Then to remaine a Captiue vnto Loue And haue his hart subiected to his power And though sometimes he tast a little sower By suffering it as mild as gentle Doue Yet must he be in liew of that great hire Whereto he dooth aspire If Louers liue afflicted and in paine Let them with cause complaine Of cruell fortune and of times abuse And let not them accuse Thee gentle-gentle-Loue that dooth with blisse enfould Within thy sweetest ioyes each liuing soule Behold a faire sweete face and shining eyes Resembling two most bringht and twinkling starres Sending vnto the soule a perfect light Behold the rare perfections of those white And Iuorie hands from greefes most surest barres That mind wherein all life and glory lyes That ioy that neuer dyes That he dooth feele that loues and is beloued And my delights approoued To see her pleas'd whose loue maintaines me heere All those I count so deere That though sometimes Loue dooth my ioyes controule Yet am I glad he dwels within my soule Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ A Sheepheards dreame A Silly Sheepheard lately sate among a flock of Sheepe Where musing long on this and that at last he fell a sleepe And in the slumber as he lay he gaue a pitteous groane He thought his sheepe were runne away and he was left alone He whoopt he whistled and he call'd but not a sheepe came neere him Which made the Sheepheard sore appall'd to see that none would heare him But as the Swaine amazed stood in this most solemne vaine Came Phillida foorth of the vvood and stoode before the Swaine Whom when the Sheepheard did behold he straite began to weepe And at the hart he grew a cold to thinke vpon his sheepe For well he knew where came the Queene the Sheepheard durst not stay And where that he durst not be seene the sheepe must needes away To aske her if she saw his flock might happen pacience mooue And haue an aunswere with a mock that such demaunders prooue Yet for because he saw her come alone out of the vvood He thought he would not stand as dombe vvhen speach might doo him good And therefore falling on his knees to aske but for his sheepe He did awake and so did leese the honour of his sleepe N. Breton FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Ode NIghts were short and dayes were long Blossomes on the Hawthorne hong Philomell Night-Musiques King Told the comming of the Spring Whose sweete-siluer-sounding-voyce Made the little birds reioyce Skipping light from spray to spray Till Aurora shew'd the day Scarse might one see when I might see For such chaunces sudden be By a Well of Marble-stone A Sheepheard lying all a-lone Weepe he did and his weeping Made the fading flowers spring Daphnis was his name I weene Youngest Swaine of Sommers Queene When Aurora saw t' was he Weepe she did for companie Weepe she did for her sweet Sonne That when antique Troy was wonne Suffer'd death by lucklesse Fate Whom she now laments too late And each morning by Cocks crewe Showers downe her siluer dewe Whose teares falling from their spring Giue moisture to each liuing thing That on earth encrease and grow Through power of their friendly foe Whose effect when Flora felt Teares that did her bosome melt For who can resist teares often But she whom no teares can soften Peering straite aboue the banks Shew'd her selfe to giue her thanks Wondring thus at Natures worke Wherein many meruailes lurke Me thought I heard a dolefull noyse Consorted with a mournfull voyce Drawing neere to heare more plaine Heare I did vnto my paine For who is not pain'd to heare Him in griefe whom hart holds deere Silly Swaine with griefe ore-gone Thus to make his pitteous mone Loue I did alas the while Loue I did but did beguile My deere Loue with louing so Whom as then I did not know Loue I did the fayrest boy That these fields did ere enioy Loue I did faire Ganimede Venus darling beauties bed Him I thought the fairest creature Him the quintessence of Nature But yet alas I was deceau'd Loue of reason is bereau'd For since then I saw a Lasse Lasse that did in
beauty passe Passe faire Ganimede as farre As Phaebus dooth the smallest starre Loue commaunded me to loue Fancie bad me not remoue My affection from the Swaine Whom I neuer could obtaine For who can obtaine that fauour Which he cannot graunt the crauer Loue at last though loth preuail'd Loue that so my hart assail'd Wounding me with her faire eyes Ah how Loue can subtillize And deuise a thousand shifts How to worke men to his drifts Her it is for whom I mourne Her for whom my life I scorne Her for whom I weepe all day Her for whom I sigh and say Eyther she or else no creature Shall enioy my loue whose feature Though I neuer can obtaine Yet shall my true-true-loue remaine Till my body turn'd to clay My poore soule must passe away To the heauens where I hope It shall finde a resting scope Then since I loued thee alone Remember me when I am gone Scarse had he these last words spoken But me thought his hart was broken With great greefe that did abound Cares and greefe the hart confound In whose hart thus riu'd in three Eliza written I might see In Caracters of crimson blood Whose meaning well I vnderstood Which for my hart might not behold I hied me home my Sheepe to fold Rich. Barnefielde FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards commendation of his Nimph. WHat Sheepheard can expresse The fauour of her face To whom in this distresse I doo appeale for grace A thousand Cupids flye About her gentle eye From which each throwes a dart That kindleth soft sweet fire Within my sighing hart Possessed by desire Nosweeter life I trie Then in her loue to die The Lilly in the field That glories in his white For porenes now must yeeld And render vp his right Heauen pictur'd in her face Dooth promise ioy and grace Faire Cinthiaes siluer light That beates on running streames Compares not with her white Whose haires are all Sunne-beames So bright my Nimph dooth shine As day vnto my eyne With this there is a red Exceedes the Damaske-Rose Which in her cheekes is spred Whence euery fauour growes In Skie there is no starre But she surmounts it farre When Phoebus from the bed Of Thetis dooth arise The morning blushing red In faire Carnation wise He shewes in my Nimphs face As Queene of euery grace This pleasant Lilly white This taint of Roseate red This Cinthiaes siluer light This sweete faire Dea spred These Sun-beames in mine eye These beauties make me die Earle of Oxenford FINIS ¶ Coridon to his Phillis ALas my hart mine eye hath wronged thee Presumptuous eye to gaze on Phillis face Whose heauenly eye no mortall man may see But he must die or purchase Phillis grace Poore Coridon the Nimph whose eye dooth mooue thee Dooth loue to draw but is not drawne to loue thee Her beautie Natures pride and Sheepheards praise Her eye the heauenly Planet of my life Her matchlesse wit and grace her fame displaies As if that loue had made her for his wife Onely her eyes shoote fierie darts to kill Yet is her hart as cold as Caucase hill My wings too weake to flye against the Sunne Mine eyes vnable to sustaine her light My hart dooth yeeld that I am quite vndone Thus hath faire Phillis slaine me with her sight My bud is blasted withred is my leafe And all my corne is rotted in the sheafe Phillis the golden fetter of my minde My fancies Idoll and my vitall power Goddesse of Nimphs and honour of thy kinde This ages Phaenix beauties richest bower Poore Coridon for loue of thee must die Thy beauties thrall and conquest of thine eye Leaue Coridon to plough the barren field Thy buds of hope are blasted with disgrace For Phillis lookes no harty loue doo yeeld Nor can she loue for all her louely face Die Coridon the spoile of Phillis eye She cannot loue and therefore thou must die S. E. Dyer FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards description of Loue. Melibeus SHeepheard what 's Loue I pray thee tell Faustus It is that Fountaine and that Well Where pleasure and repentance dwell It is perhaps that sauncing bell That toules all into heauen or hell And this is Loue as I heard tell Meli. Yet what is Loue I pre-thee say Fau. It is a worke on holy-day It is December match'd with May When lustie-bloods in fresh aray Heare ten moneths after of the play And this is Loue as I heare say Meli. Yet what is Loue good Sheepheard saine Fau. It is a Sun-shine mixt with raine It is a tooth-ach or like paine It is a game where none dooth gaine The Lasse saith no and would full faine And this is Loue as I heare saine Meli. Yet Sheepheard what is Loue I pray Fau. It is a yea it is a nay A pretty kind of sporting fray It is a thing will soone away Then Nimphs take vantage while ye may And this is loue as I heare say Meli. Yet what is loue good Shepheard show Fau. A thing that creepes it cannot goe A prize that passeth too and fro A thing for one a thing for moe And he that prooues shall finde it so And Sheepheard this is loue I troe Ignoto FINIS ¶ To his Flocks FEede on my Flocks securely Your Sheepheard watcheth surely Runne about my little Lambs Skip and wanton with your Dammes Your louing Heard with care will tend ye Sport on faire flocks at pleasure Nip Vestaes flowring treasure I my selfe will duely harke When my watchfull dogge dooth barke From Woolfe and Foxe I will defend ye H. C. FINIS ¶ A Roundelay betweene two Sheepheards 1. Shep. TEll me thou gentle Sheepheards Swaine Who's 's yonder in the Vale is set 2. Shep. Oh it is she whose sweetes doo staine The Lilly Rose the Violet 1. Shep. Why dooth the Sunne against his kind Fixe his bright Chariot in the skies 2. Shep. Because the Sunne is strooken blind With looking on her heauenly eyes 1. Shep. Why doo thy flocks forbeare their food Which sometime were thy chiefe delight 2. Shep. Because they neede no other good That liue in presence of her sight 1. Shep. Why looke these flowers so pale and ill That once attir'd this goodly Heath 2. Shep. She hath rob'd Nature of her skill And sweetens all things with her breath 1. Shep. Why slide these brookes so slow away Whose bubling murmur pleas'd thine eare 2. Shep. Oh meruaile not although they stay When they her heauenly voyce doo heare 1. Shep. From whence come all these Sheepheards Swaines And louely Nimphs attir'd in greene 2. Shep. From gathering Garlands on the Plaines To crowne our faire the Sheepheards Queene Both. The Sunne that lights this world below Flocks flowers and brookes will witnesse beare These Nimphs and Sheepheards all doo know That it is she is onely faire Mich. Drayton FINIS ¶ The solitarie Sheepheards Song O Shadie Vales ô faire enriched Meades O sacred vvoods sweet fields and rising mountaines O painted flowers greene hearbs where Flora treads Refresht by wanton
one 's most fit Made not to please the liuing but the dead And if in him found pitty euer place Let him be moou'd to pitty such a case Edm. Spencer FINIS ¶ Damaetas Iigge in praise of his Loue. IOlly Sheepheard Sheepheard on a hill on a hill so merrily on a hill so cherily Feare not Sheepheard there to pipe thy fill Fill euery Dale fill euery Plaine both sing and say Loue feeles no paine Iolly Sheepheard Sheepheard 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 Sheepheard Sheepheard 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 Sheepheard Sheepheard in the shade in the shade so merrily in the shade so cherily Ioy in thy life life of Sheepheards trade Ioy in thy loue loue full of glee both sing and say Sweet Loue for me Iolly Sheepheard Sheepheard heere or there heere or there so merrily heere or there so cherily Or in thy chat eyther at thy cheere In euery Iigge in euery Lay both sing and say Loue lasts for aye Iolly Sheepheard Sheepheard 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 sweete Iohn Wootton FINIS ¶ Montanus praise of his faire Phaebe PHaebe sate Sweete she sate sweete 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 Sweete 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 Phoebes flocks White as wooll yet were Phoebes lookes more whiter Phoebes eyes Doue-like mild Doue-like eyes both mild and cruell Montane sweares In your Lamps he will die for to delight her Phoebe yeeld Or I die shall true harts be fancies fuell Thom. Lodge FINIS ¶ The complaint of Thestilis the forsaken Sheepheard THestilis a silly Swaine when Loue did him forsake In mournfull wife 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 harts-desired choyce Lament with me my cruell hap and helpe my trembling voyce Was neuer man that stoode so great in Fortunes grace Nor with his sweate alas too deere possest so high a place As I whose simple hart aye thought himselfe still sure But now I see high springing tides they may not eye endure Shee knowes my guiltlesse hart 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 doo bathe my selfe in teares When Craesus King of Lide was cast in cruell bands 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 foe My trickling teares shall witnes heare 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 heere resigne all ioy Thy pleasant sweete I now lament whose lacke breeds mine annoy Farewell my deere therefore farewell to me well knowne If that I die it shall be sayd that thou hast slaine thine owne L. T. Howard E. of Surrie FINIS ¶ To Phillis the faire Sheepheardesse 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 dooth 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 Sweete Sunne when thou look'st on pray her regard my moane Sweete 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 S. E. D. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Dorons ligge 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 sweete 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 Sheepheards Loues Ro. Greene. FINIS ¶ Astrophell his Song of Phillida and Coridon FAire in a morne ô 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 ô blessed hill was neuer hill so blessed There stoode a man was neuer man for vvoman so distressed This man beheld a heauenly view which did such vertue giue As cleares the blind and helps the lame and makes the dead man liue This man had hap ô 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 ô gracious guest to hap on such a face He pitty cryed and pitty came and pittied so his paine As dying would not let him die but gaue him life againe For ioy whereof he
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 Sheepheard 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 sweete Enemie Beautie and chastitie one place refraine In her beare equall sway Filling the world with wonder and content But they doo 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 Lillie after raine Nor flower in moneth of May Nor pleasant meade nor greene in Sommer sent That seeing them my minde delighteth so As 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 sweete 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 and will which wicked vice dooth 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 doo'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 doo inuent Of soueraigne ioy wherein with pride I rowe The deserts for her sake I doo require For without her the Springs of ioy are dried and that I doo defie Sweete Fate that to a noble deede doo'st straine and lift my hart to day Sealing her there with glorious ornament Sweete scale sweete greefe and sweetest ouerthrowe Sweete miracle whose fame cannot expire Sweete wound and golden shaft that so espied such heauenly companie Of beauties graces in sweete vertues died As like were neuer in such yeares descried Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Amintas for his Phillis AVrora now began to rise againe From watry couch and from old Tithons side In hope to kiss vpon Acteian plaine Young Cephalus and through the golden glide On Easterne 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 greefe 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 hart 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 sweete 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 happines adiew Adiew desire the source of all my care Despare tells me my weale will nere renue Till thus my soule dooth 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 Tho. Watson FINIS ¶ Faustus and Firmius sing to their Nimph by turnes Firmius OF mine owne selfe I doo complaine And not for louing thee so much But that in deede thy power is such That my true loue it dooth restraine And onely this dooth giue me paine For faine I would Loue her more if that I could Faustus Thou doo'st obserue who dooth not see To be belou'd a great deale more But yet thou shalt not finde such store Of loue in others as in me For all I haue I giue to thee Yet faine I would Loue thee more if that I could Firmius O trie no other Sheepheard Swaine And care not other loues to proue Who though they giue thee all their loue Thou canst not such as mine obtaine And would'st thou haue in loue more gaine O yet I would Loue thee more if that I could Faustus Impossible it is my friend That any one should me excell In loue whose loue I will refell If that with me he will contend My loue no equall hath nor end And yet I would Loue her more if that I could Firmius Behold how Loue my soule hath charm'd Since first thy beauties I did see Which is but little yet to me My freest sences I haue harm'd To loue thee leauing them vnarm'd And yet I would Loue thee more if that I could Faustus I euer gaue and giue thee still Such store of loue as Loue hath lent me And therefore well thou maist content
a picture fine deface Which he sometime his fancie to beguile had caru'd on bark of Beech in secret place And with despight of most afflicted minde through deepe dispaire of hart for loue dismaid He pull'd euen from the tree the carued rinde and weeping sore these wofull words he said Ah Phillida would God thy picture faire I could as lightly blot out of my brest Then should I not thus rage in deepe dispaire and teare the thing sometime I liked best But all in vaine it booteth not God wot What printed is in hart on tree to blot Out of M. Birds set Songs FINIS ¶ Melisea her Song in scorne of her Sheepheard Narcissus YOung Sheepheard turne a-side and moue Me not to follow thee For I will neither kill with loue Nor loue shall not kill me Since I will liue and neuer show Then die not for my loue I will not giue For I will neuer haue thee loue me so As I doo meane to hate thee while I liue That since the louer so dooth proue His death as thou doo'st see Be bold I will not kill with loue Nor loue shall not kill me Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ His aunswere to the Nimphs Song IF to be lou'd it thee offend I cannot choose but loue thee still And so thy greefe shall haue no end Whiles that my life maintaines my will O let me yet with greefe complaine since such a torment I endure Or else fulfill thy great disdaine to end my life with death most sure For as no credite thou wilt lend and as my loue offends thee still So shall thy sorrowes haue no end whiles that my life maintaines my will If that by knowing thee I could leaue off to loue thee as I doo Not to offend thee then I would leaue off to like and loue thee too But since all loue to thee dooth tend and I of force must loue thee still Thy greefe shall neuer haue an end whiles that my life maintaines my will Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Her present aunswere againe to him ME thinks thou tak'st the worser way Enamoured Sheepheard and in vaine That thou wilt seeke thine owne decay To loue her that dooth thee disdaine For thine owne selfe thy wofull hart Keepe still else art thou much to blame For she to whom thou gau'st each part Of it disdaines to take the same Follow not her that makes a play And iest of all the greefe and paines And seeke not Sheepheard thy decay To loue her that thy loue disdaines Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ His last replie SInce thou to me wert so vnkinde My selfe I neuer loued for I could not loue him in my minde Whom thou faire Mistresse doo'st abhorre If viewing thee I sawe thee not And seeing thee I could not loue thee Dying I should not liue God wot Nor liuing should to anger mooue thee But it is well that I doo finde My life so full of torments for All kinde of ills doo fit his minde Whom thou faire Mistresse doo'st abhorre In thy obliuion buried now My death I haue before mine eyes And heere to hate my selfe I vow As cruell thou doo'st me despise Contented euer thou didst finde Me with thy scornes though neuer for To say the trueth I ioyed in minde After thou didst my loue abhorre Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Philon the Sheepheard his Song WHile that the Sunne with his beames hot Scorched the fruites in vale and mountaine Philon the Sheepheard late forgot Sitting besides a Christall Fountaine In shaddow of a greene Oake tree Vpon his Pipe this Song plaid he Adiew Loue adiew Loue vntrue Loue Vntrue Loue vntrue Loue adiew Loue Your minde is light soone lost for new loue So long as I was in young sight I was as your hart your soule and treasure And euermore you sob'd and sigh'd Burning in flames beyond all measure Three dayes endured your loue to me And it was lost in other three Adiew Loue adiew Loue vntrue Loue. c. Another Sheepheard you did see To whom your hart was soone enchained Full soone your loue was leapt from me Full soone my place he had obtained Soone came a third your loue to win And we were out and he was in Adiew Loue. c. Sure you haue made me passing glad That you your minde so soone remoued Before that I the leysure had To choose you for my best beloued For all my loue was past and done Two dayes before it was begun Adiew Loue. c. Out of M. Birds set Songs FINIS ¶ Lycoris the Nimph her sad Song IN dewe of Roses steeping her louely cheekes Lycoris thus sate weeping Ah Dorus false that hast my hart bereft me And now vnkinde hast left me Heare alas oh heare me Aye me aye me Cannot my beautie mooue thee Pitty yet pitty me Because I loue thee Aye me thou scorn'st the more I pray thee And this thou doo'st and all to slay me Why doo then Kill me and vaunt thee Yet my Ghoast Still shall haunt thee Out of M. Morleyes Madrigalls FINIS ¶ To his Flocks BVrst foorth my teares assist my forward greefe And shew what paine imperious loue prouokes Kinde tender Lambs lament Loues scant releefe And pine since pensiue care my freedom yoakes Oh pine to see me pine my tender Flocks Sad pyning care that neuer may haue peace At Beauties gate in hope of pittie knocks But mercie sleepes while deepe disdaines encrease And Beautie hope in her faire bosome yoakes Oh greeue to heare my greefe my tender Flocks Like to the windes my sighs haue winged beene Yet are my sighs and sutes repaide with mocks I pleade yet she repineth at my teene O ruthlesse rigour harder then the Rocks That both the Sheepheard kills and his poore Flocks FINIS ¶ To his Loue. COme away come sweet Loue The golden morning breakes All the earth all the ayre Of loue and pleasure speakes Teach thine armes then to embrace And sweet Rosie lips to kisse And mixe our soules in mutuall blisse Eyes were made for beauties grace Viewing ruing Loues long paine Procur'd by beauties rude disdaine Come away come sweet Loue The golden morning wasts While the Sunne from his Sphere His fierie arrowes casts Making all the shadowes flie Playing staying in the Groaue To entertaine the stealth of loue Thither sweet Loue let vs hie Flying dying in desire Wing'd with sweet hopes and heauenly fire Come away come sweet Loue Doo not in vaine adiorne Beauties grace that should rise Like to the naked morne Lillies on the Riuers side And faire Cyprian flowers new blowne Desire no beauties but their owne Ornament is Nurse of pride Pleasure measure Loues delight Hast then sweet Loue our wished flight FINIS ¶ Another of his Cinthia AWay with these selfe-louing-Lads Whom Cupids arrowe neuer glads Away poore soules that sigh and weepe In loue of them that lie and sleepe For Cupid is a Meadow God And forceth none to kisse the rod. God Cupids shaft like destenie Dooth eyther good or ill decree Desert
honour'd is and praised That Kings lesse happy seeme though higher raised The Sommer Sunne hath guilded faire with morning rayes the mountaines The birds doo 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 rocks 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 faire you know and which you Sheepheards know not Is Sophi said thence called so but names her beauty showe 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 dooth refresh and words than breath farre sweeter Cheeke firme lip firme not fraile nor nesh as substance which is fleeter In praise doo not surmount although in placing Her christall necke round breast 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 be seene for soueraigne woorth excell Her thighs with Azure braunched beene and all in her are well Long Iuorie hands legges straighter then the Pine Well shapen feete but vertue most diuine Nor cloathed like a Sheepheardesse but rather like a Queene Her mantle dooth the formes expresse of all which may be seene Roabe fitter for an Empresse then for a Sheepheards 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 Hee knew the world and what did moue in all the mightie frame So well belike his skill to proue the counterfeits he wrought Of vvood-Gods and of euery groaue and all which else was ought Is there a beast a bird a fish worth noate Then that he drew and picturde in her coate A vaile 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 heere and there appeare forth towers among the chalkie downes Citties among the Country bowers vvhich smiling Sun-shine crownes Her mettall buskins deckt with flowers as th' earth when frosts are gone Besprinckled 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 fayre her face is Her fairenes 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 ô 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 brightnes Who himselfe infinite displaies in thee his proper greatnes My song must end but neuer my desire For Cosmas face is Theorellos fire E. B. FINIS 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 femall frenzie From them that vse men thus Good Lord deliuer vs. Weepe neighbours weepe doe you not heare it saide That Loue is dead His death-bed Peacocks follie His winding sheete is shame His will false seeming holie 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 sunge 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 lye rage hath this errour bred Loue is not dead Loue is not dead but sleepeth In her vnmatched minde Where shee his counsell keepeth Till due desert she find Therefore from so vile fancie To call such wit a frenzie Who loue can temper thus Good Lord deliuer vs. Sir Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ A Palinode AS withereth the Primrose by the riuer As fadeth Sommers-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 glorie ioy which short life gathers Faire praise vaine pompe sweet glory brittle ioy The withered Primrose by the mourning riuer The faded Sommers-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 snowe whose lawne did ouer-spread Th' ambitious hills which Giant-like did threat To pierce the heauen with theyr aspiring head Naked and bare doth leaue their craggie seate When as the bubble which did emptie flie The daliance of the vndiscerned winde On whose calme rowling waues it did relie Hath shipwrack made where it did daliance finde And when the Sun-shine which dissolu'd the snow Cullourd the bubble with a pleasant varie And made the rathe and timely Primrose grow Swarth clowdes with-drawne which longer time doe tarie Oh what is praise pompe glory ioy but so As shine by fountaines bubbles flowers or snow E. B. FINIS ¶ Astrophell the Sheep-heard 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 ritch 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 Sheepheardesse fiercest but yet
Which call vpon the absent Sommer time For did flowres make our May Or the Sun-beames your day When Night and Winter did the vvorld embrace Well might you waile your ill and sing alas Loe Matron-like the Earth her selfe attires In habite graue Naked the fields are bloomelesse are the brires Yet we a Sommer haue Who in our clime kindleth these liuing fires Which bloomes can on the briers saue No Ice dooth christallize the running Brooke No blast deflowres the flowre-adorned field Christall is cleere but cleerer is the looke Which to our climes these liuing fires dooth yield Winter though euery where Hath no abiding heere On Brooks and Briers she doth rule alone The Sunne which lights our world is alwayes one Edmund Bolton FINIS ¶ Melicertus Madrigale WHat are my Sheepe without their wonted food What is my life except I gaine my Loue My Sheepe consume and faint for want of blood My life is lost vnlesse I Grace approue No flower that saplesse thriues No Turtle without pheare The day without the Sunne doth lower for woe Then woe mine eyes vnlesse they beauty see My Sonne Samelaes eyes by whom I know Wherein delight consists where pleasures be Nought more the hart reuiues Then to embrace his Deare The starres from earthly humours gaine their light Our humours by their light possesse their power Samelaes eyes fed by my weeping sight Infuse my paines or ioyes by smile or lower So wends the source of loue It feedes it failes it ends Kind lookes cleare to your Ioy behold her eyes Admire her hart desire to tast her kisses In them the heauen of ioy and solace lyes Without them euery hope his succour misses Oh how I liue to prooue Whereto this solace tends Ro. Greene. FINIS ¶ Olde Damons Pastorall FRom Fortunes frownes and change remou'd wend silly Flocks in blessed feeding None of Damon more belou'd feede gentle Lambs while I sit reading Carelesse vvorldlings outrage quelleth all the pride and pompe of Cittie But true peace with Sheepheards dwelleth Sheepheards who delight in pittie Whether grace of heauen betideth on our humble minds such pleasure Perfect peace with Swaines abideth loue and faith is Sheepheards treasure On the lower Plaines the thunder little thriues and nought preuaileth Yet in Citties breedeth wonder and the highest hills assaileth Enuie of a forraigne Tyrant threatneth Kings not Sheepheards humble Age makes silly Swaines delirant thirst of rule garres great men stumble What to other seemeth sorrie abiect state and humble biding Is our ioy and Country glorie highest states haue worse betiding Golden cups doo harbour poyson and the greatest pompe dissembling Court of seasoned words hath foyson treason haunts in most assembling Homely breasts doo harbour quiet little feare and mickle solace States suspect their bed and diet feare and craft doo haunt the Pallace Little would I little want I where the mind and store agreeth Smallest comfort is not scantie least he longs that little seeth Time hath beene that I haue longed foolish I to like of follie 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 Thom. Lodge FINIS ¶ 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 hie hill The while my flocke did feede thereby the while the Sheepheards selfe did spill I saw the bouncing Bellybone hey hoe Bonny-bell Tripping ouer the Dale alone shee 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 vvood as he that did them keepe As the Bony-lasse passed by hey hoe Bony-lasse Shee rold 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 hart did streame Or as the thunder cleaues the clouds hey hoe the thunder Wherein the lightsome leuin shrouds so cleaues my soule a-sunder Or as Dame Cinthias siluer ray hey hoe the moone-light Vpon the glistering vvaue doth play such play is a pitteous plight The glaunce into my hart 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 hart 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 painfull 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 greefe I dye hey hoe gracelesse greefe 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 hart did greeue now endeth our Roundelay Edm. Spencer FINIS ¶ Phillida and Coridon IN the merry moneth of May In a morne by breake of day Foorth 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 sayd neuer man was true He sayd none was false to you He sayd he had lou'd her long She sayd 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 Sheepheard 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 troth Such as silly Sheepheards vse When they will not Loue abuse Loue which had beene long deluded Was with kisses sweete concluded And Phillida with garlands gay Was made the Lady of the May. N. Breton FINIS ¶ To Colin Cloute. BEautie sate bathing by a Spring where fayrest shades did hide her The winds 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 doo smile and sometime fall
to my plaint on whom the cheerefull Sunne did neuer rise If pitties stroakes your tender breasts may taint come learne of me to wet your wanton eyes For Loue in vaine the name of pleasure beares His sweet delights are turned into feares The trustlesse shewes the frights the feeble ioyes the freezing doubts the guilefull promises The feigned lookes the shifts the subtill toyes the brittle hope the stedfast heauines The wished warre in such vncertaine peace These with my woe my woes with these increase Thou dreadfull God that in thy Mothers lap doo'st lye and heare the crie of my complaint And seest and smilest at my sore mishap that lacke but skill my sorrowes heere to paint Thy fire from heauen before the hurt I spide Quite through mine eyes into my brest did glide My life was light my blood did spirt and spring my body quicke my hart began to leape And euery thornie thought did prick and sting the fruite of my desired ioyes to reape But he on whom to thinke my soule still tyers In bale forsooke and left me in the bryers Thus Fancie strung my Lute to Layes of Loue and Loue hath rock'd my wearie Muse a-sleepe And sleepe is broken by the paines I proue and euery paine I feele dooth force me weepe Then farewell fancie loue sleepe paine and sore And farewell weeping I can waile no more Shep. Tonie FINIS ¶ Phillidaes Loue-call to her Coridon and his replying Phil. COridon arise my Coridon Titan shineth cleare Cor. Who is it that calleth Coridon who is it that I heare Phil. Phillida thy true-Loue calleth thee arise then arise then arise and keepe thy flock with me Cor. Phillida my true-Loue is it she I come then I come then I come and keepe my flock with thee Phil. Heere are cherries ripe my Coridon eate them for my sake Cor. Heere 's my Oaten pipe my louely one sport for thee to make Phil. Heere are threeds my true-Loue fine as silke to knit thee to knit thee a paire of stockings white as milke Cor. Heere are Reedes my true-Loue fine and neate to make thee to make thee a Bonnet to with-stand the heate Phil. I will gather flowers my Coridon to set in thy cap Cor. I will gather Peares my louely one to put in thy lap Phil. I will buy my true-Loue Garters gay for Sundayes for Sundayes to weare about his legs so tall Cor. I will buy my true-Loue yellow Say for Sundayes for Sundayes to weare about her middle small Phil. When my Coridon sits on a hill making melodie Cor. When my louely one goes to her wheele singing cherilie Phil. Sure me thinks my true-Loue dooth excell for sweetnes for sweetnes our Pan that old Arcadian Knight Cor. And me thinks my true-Loue beares the bell for clearenes for clearenes 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 Say to her thy true-Loue was not heere remember remember to morrow is another day Phil. Doubt me not my true-Loue doo not feare farewell then farewell then heauen keepe our loues alway Ignoto FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards solace PHaebus delights to view his Laurell tree The Poplar pleaseth Hercules alone Melissa mother is and fautrixe to the Bee Pallas will weare the Oliue branch alone Of Sheepheards 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 vvoods make chiefe account Oreades in hills haue their delight Diana dooth 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 Tho. Watson FINIS ¶ Syrenus Song to Eugerius LEt now the goodly Spring-tide make vs merrie And fields which pleasant flowers doo adorne And Vales Meades Woods with liuely colours flourish Let plenteous flocks the Sheepheards riches nourish Let hungry Woolues 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 plainenes liue in ioyes not ended In quiet of the desert Meades and mountaines And in the pleasure of a Country dwelling Let Sheepheards rest that haue distilled fountaines Of teares prooue not thy wrath all paines excelling Vpon poore soules that neuer haue offended Let thy flames be incended In haughtie 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 suffise 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 doost thou hurt his life with thy offences That yeelds to thee his soule and inward sences He erres alas and foulely is deceaued That calls thee God being a burning fire A furious flame a playning greefe 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 breede him with such vile pretences He that dooth hurt so much our inward sences The gentle Sheepe and Lambs are euer flying The rauenous Woolues and beasts that are pretending To glut their mawes with flesh they teare asunder The milke-white Doues at noyse of fearfull thunder Flie home a-maine themselues from harme defending The little Chick when Puttocks are a crying The Woods and Meadowes dying For raine of heauen if that they cannot haue it Doo neuer cease to craue it So euery thing his contrary resisteth Onely thy thrall persisteth In suffering of thy wrongs without offences And lets
winds and watry fountaines O all you winged Queristers of vvood that pearcht aloft your former paines report And straite againe recount with pleasant moode your present ioyes in sweete and seemely sort O all you creatures whosoeuer thriue on mother earth in Seas by ayre by fire More blest are you then I heere vnder Sunne loue dies in me when as he dooth reuiue In you I perish vnder beauties ire where after stormes winds frosts your life is wunne Thom. Lodge FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards resolution in loue IF loue him-selfe be subiect vnto Loue And range the vvoods to finde a mortall pray If Neptune from the Seas him-selfe remoue And seeke on sands with earthly wights to play Then may I loue my Sheepheardesse by right Who farre excells each other mortall wight If Pluto could by Loue be drawne from hell To yeeld him-selfe a silly virgins thrall If Phoebus could vouchsafe on earth to dwell To winne a rustick Mayde vnto his call Then how much more should I adore the sight Of her in whom the heauens them-selues delight If Country Pan might follow Nimphs in chase And yet through loue remaine deuoide of blame If Satires were excus'd for seeking grace To ioy the fruites of any mortall Dame My Sheepheardesse why should not I loue still On whom nor Gods nor men can gaze their fill Tho. Watson FINIS ¶ Coridons Hymne in praise of Amarillis WOuld mine eyes were christall Fountaines Where you might the shadow view Of my greefes like to these mountaines Swelling for the losse of you Cares which curelesse are alas Helplesse haplesse for they grow Cares like tares in number passe All the seedes that loue dooth sow Who but could remember all Twinkling eyes still representing Starres which pierce me to the gall Cause they lend no more contenting And you Nectar-lips alluring Humane sence to tast of heauen For no Art of mans manuring Finer silke hath euer weauen Who but could remember this The sweete odours of your fauour When I smeld I was in blisse Neuer felt I sweeter sauour And your harmlesse hart annoynted As the custome was of Kings Shewes your sacred soule appoynted To be prime of earthly things Ending thus remember all Cloathed in a mantle greene T is enough I am your thrall Leaue to thinke what eye hath seene Yet the eye may not so leaue Though the thought doo still repine But must gaze till death bequeath Eyes and thoughts vnto her shrine Which if Amarillis chaunce Hearing to make hast to see To life death she may aduance Therefore eyes and thoughts goe free T. B. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Carillo his Song Guarda mi las Vaccas Carillo por tu fe Besa mi Primero Yo te las guardare IPre-thee keepe my Kine for me Carillo wilt thou Tell. First let me haue a kisse of thee And I will keepe them well If to my charge or them to keepe Thou doost commend thy Kine or Sheepe For thee I doo suffise Because in this I haue beene bred But for so much as I haue fed By viewing thee mine eyes Commaund not me to keepe thy beast Because my selfe I can keepe least How can I keepe I pre-thee tell Thy Kie my selfe that cannot well defend nor please thy kinde As long as I haue serued thee But if thou wilt giue vnto me a kisse to please my minde I aske no more for all my paine And I will keepe them very faine For thee the gift is not so great That I doo aske to keepe thy Neate but vnto me it is A guerdon that shall make me liue Disdaine not then to lend or giue so small a gift as this But if to it thou canst not frame Then giue me leaue to take the same But if thou doost my sweet denie To recompence me by and by thy promise shall relent me Heere-after some reward to finde Behold how I doo please my minde and fauours doo content me That though thou speak'st it but in iest I meane to take it at the best Behold how much loue works in me And how ill recompenc'd of thee that with the shadow of Thy happy fauours though delay'd I thinke my selfe right well appay'd although they prooue a scoffe Then pitty me that haue forgot My selfe for thee that carest not O in extreame thou art most faire And in extreame vniust despaire thy cruelty maintaines O that thou wert so pittifull Vnto these torments that doo pull my soule with sencelesse paines As thou shew'st in that face of thine Where pitty and mild grace should shine If that thy faire and sweetest face Assureth me both peace and grace thy hard and cruell hart Which in that white breast thou doo'st beare Dooth make me tremble yet for feare thou wilt not end my smart In contraries of such a kinde Tell me what succour shall I 〈◊〉 If then young Sheepheardesse thou craue A Heards-man for thy beast to haue with grace thou maist restore Thy Sheepheard from his barren loue For neuer other shalt thou prooue that seekes to please thee more And who to serue thy turne will neuer shun The nipping frost and beames of parching Sun Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Corins dreame of his faire Chloris WHat time bright Titan in the Zenith sat And equally the fixed poales did heate When to my flock my daily woes I chat And vnderneath a broade Beech tooke my seate The dreaming God which Morpheus Poets call Augmenting fuell to my Aetnaes fire With sleepe possessing my weake sences all In apparitions makes my hopes aspire Me thought I saw the Nimph I would embrace With armes abroade comming to me for helpe A lust-led Satire hauing her in chace Which after her about the fields did yelpe I seeing my Loue in such perplexed plight A sturdie bat from off an Oake I reft And with the Rauisher continued fight Till breathlesse I vpon the earth him left Then when my coy Nimph saw her breathlesse foe With kisses kind she gratifies my paine Protesting rigour neuer more to show Happy was I this good hap to obtaine But drowsie slumbers flying to their Cell My sudden ioy conuerted was to bale My wonted sorrowes still with me doo dwell I looked round about on hill and Dale But I could neither my faire Chloris view Nor yet the Satire which yer-while I slew W. S. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Damons passion AH trees why fall your leaues so fast Ah Rocks where are your roabes of mosse Ah Flocks why stand you all agast Trees Rocks and Flocks what are ye pensiue for my losse The birds me thinks tune naught but moane The winds breath naught but bitter plaint The beasts forsake their dennes to groane Birds winds and beasts what dooth my losse your powers attaint Floods weepe their springs aboue their bounds And Eccho wailes to see my woe The roabe of ruthe dooth cloath the grounds Floods Eccho grounds why doo ye all these teares bestow The trees the Rocks and Flocks replie The birds the winds the beasts report Floods Eccho grounds
for sorrow crie We greeue since Phillis nill kinde Damons loue consort Thom. Lodge FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Musidorus his complaint COme Sheepheards weedes become your Maisters minde Yeeld outward shew what inward change he tries Nor be abash'd since such a guest you finde Whose strongest hope in your weake comfort lies Come Sheepheards weedes attend my wofull cries Disuse your selues from sweete Menalcas voyce For other be those tunes which sorrow ties From those cleare notes which freely may reioyce Then poure out plaints and in one word say this Helplesse his plaint who spoiles him selfe of blisse S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards braule one halfe aunswering the other 1. WE loue and haue our loues rewarded 2. We loue and are no whit regarded 1. We finde most sweet affections snare 2. That sweete but sower dispairefull care 1. Who can dispaire whom hope dooth beare 2. And who can hope that feeles dispaire All. As without breath no pipe dooth moue No Musique kindly without loue S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ Dorus his comparisons MY Sheepe are thoughts which I both guide and serue Their pasture is faire hills of fruitlesse loue On barren sweetes they feede and feeding sterue I waile their lot but will not other proue My sheepe-hooke is wanne hope which all vpholds My weedes desires cut out in endlesse folds What wooll my Sheepe shall beare while thus they liue In you it is you must the iudgement giue S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Faustus his Song A faire Mayde wed to prying Iealousie One of the fairest as euer I did see If that thou wilt a secret Louer take Sweet life doe not my secret loue forsake ECclipsed was our Sunne And faire Aurora darkened to vs quite Our morning starre was doone And Sheepheards starre lost cleane out of our sight When that thou didst thy faith in wedlock plight Dame Nature made thee faire And ill did carelesse Fortune marry thee And pitty with despaire It was that this thy haplesse hap should be A faire Mayde wed to prying Iealousie Our eyes are not so bold To view the Sun that flie with radiant wing Vnlesse that we doo hold A glasse before them or some other thing Then wisely this to passe did Fortune bring To couer thee with such a vaile For heeretofore when any viewed thee Thy sight made his to faile For sooth thou art thy beautie telleth mee One of the fairest as euer I did see Thy graces to obscure With such a froward husband and so base She meant thereby most sure That Cupids force and loue thou should'st embrace For 't is a force to loue no wondrous case Then care no more for kin And doubt no more for feare thou must forsake To loue thou must begin And from hence-forth this question neuer make If that thou should'st a secret Louer take Of force it dooth behooue That thou should'st be belou'd and that againe Faire Mistresse thou should'st loue For to what end what purpose and what gaine Should such perfections serue as now in vaine My loue is of such art That of it selfe it well deserues to take In thy sweete loue a part Then for no Sheepheard that his loue dooth make Sweet life doo not my secret loue forsake Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Another of the same by Firmius the Sheepheard IF that the gentle winde dooth mooue the leaues with pleasant sound If that the Kid behind Is left that cannot find her dam runnes bleating vp and downe The Bagpipe Reede or Flute onely with ayre if that they touched be With pitty all salute And full of loue doo brute thy name and sound Diana seeing thee A faire Mayde wed to prying Iealousie The fierce and sauage beasts beyond their kind and nature yet With pitteous voyce and brest In mountaines without rest the selfe same Song doo not forget If that they stay'd at Faire and had not passed to prying Iealousie With plaints of such despaire As moou'd the gentle ayre to teares The Song that they did sing should be One of the fayrest as euer I did see Mishap and fortunes play ill did they place in Beauties brest For since so much to say There was of beauties sway they had done well to leaue the rest They had enough to doo if in her praise their wits they did awake But yet so must they too And all thy loue that woo thee not too coy nor too too proude to make If that thou wilt a secret Louer take For if thou hadst but knowne the beauty that they heere doo touch Thou woul'dst then loue alone Thy selfe nor any one onely thy selfe accounting much But if thou doo'st conceaue this beauty that I will not publique make And mean'st not to bereaue The world of it but leaue the same to some which neuer peere did take Sweet life doo not my secret loue forsake Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Damelus Song to his Diaphenia DIaphenia like the Daffadown-dillie White as the Sunne faire as the Lillie heigh hoe how I doo loue thee I doo loue thee as my Lambs Are beloued of their Dams how blest were I if thou would'st prooue me Diaphenia like the spreading Roses That in thy sweetes all sweetes incloses faire sweete how I doo loue thee I doo loue thee as each flower Loues the Sunnes life-giuing power for dead thy breath to life might mooue me Diaphenia like to all things blessed When all thy praises are expressed deare Ioy how I doo loue thee As the birds doo loue the Spring Or the Bees their carefull King then in requite sweet Virgin loue me H. C. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Eurymachus to his faire Sheepheardesse Mirimida WHen Flora proud in pompe of all her flowers sate bright and gay And gloried in the dewe of Iris showers and did display Her mantle checquer'd all with gaudie greene Then I alone A mournfull man in Ericine was seene With folded armes I trampled through the grasse Tracing as he That held the throane of Fortune brittle glasse And loue to be Like Fortune fleeting as the restlesse wind Mixed with mists Whose dampe dooth make the clearest eyes grow blind Thus in a maze I spied a hideous flame I cast my sight And sawe where blithely bathing in the same With great delight A worme did lie wrapt in a smoakie sweate And yet t was strange It carelesse lay and shrunk not at the heate I stoode amaz'd and wondring at the sight while that a dame That shone like to the heauens rich sparkling light Discourst the same And said My friend this worme within the fire Which lyes content Is Venus worme and represents desire A Salamander is this princely beast Deck'd with a crowne Giuen him by Cupid as a gorgeous creast Gainst Fortunes frowne Content he lyes and bathes him in the flame And goes not foorth For why he cannot liue without the same As he so Louers liue within the fire Of feruent loue And shrinke not from the flame of hote desire Nor will not moue From any heate
that Venus force imparts But lie content Within a fire and waste away their harts Vp flewe the Dame and vanish'd in a cloud But there stoode I And many thoughts within my mind did shroud My loue for why I felt within my hart a scorching fire And yet as did The Salamander t was my whole desire Ro. Greene. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard Firmius his Song SHeepheards giue eare and now be still Vnto my passions and their cause and what they be Since that with such an earnest will And such great signes of friendships lawes you aske it me It is not long since I was whole Nor since I did in euery part free-will resigne It is not long since in my sole Possession I did know my hart and to be mine It is not long since euen and morrow All pleasure that my hart could finde was in my power It is not long since greefe and sorrow My louing hart began to binde and to deuoure It is not long since companie I did esteeme a ioy indeede still to frequent Nor long since solitarilie I liu'd and that this life did breede my sole content Desirous I wretched to see But thinking not to see so much as then I sawe Loue made me know in what degree His valour and braue force did touch me with his lawe First he did put no more nor lesse Into my hart then he did view that there did want But when my breast in such excesse Of liuely flames to burne I knew then were so scant My ioyes that now did so abate My selfe estraunged euery way from former rest That I did know that my estate And that my life was euery day in deaths arrest I put my hand into my side To see what was the cause of this vnwonted vaine Where I did finde that torments hied By endlesse death to preiudice my life with paine Because I sawe that there did want My hart wherein I did delight my dearest hart And he that did the same supplant No iurisdiction had of right to play that part The Iudge and Robber that remaine Within my soule their cause to trie are there all one And so the giuer of the paine And he that is condemn'd to die or I or none To die I care not any way Though without why to die I greeue as I doo see But for because I heard her say None die for lone for I beleeue none such there be Then this thou shalt beleeue by me Too late and without remedie as did in briefe Anaxarete and thou shalt see The little she did satisfie with after griefe Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards praise of his sacred Diana PRaysed be Dianaes faire and harmelesse light Praised be the dewes where-with she moists the ground 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 vvoods Prais'd be her Knights in whom true honour liues Prais'd be that force by which she mooues 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 dooth 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 ¶ The Sheepheards dumpe LIke desart Woods with darksome 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 hart maintaineth To whet my greefe when as my sorrow waineth The ghastly beasts my thoughts in cares assured Which wadge me warre whilst hart no succour gaineth With false suspect and feare that still remaineth The horrors burning sighs by cares procured Which foorth I send whilst weeping eye complaineth To coole the heate the helplesse hart containeth But shafts but cares sighs horrors vnrecured Were nought esteem'd if for their paines awarded Your Sheepheards loue might be by you regarded S. E. D. FINIS ¶ The Nimph Dianaes Song WHen 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 Phoebe ' 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 Daylie 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 doo make me warre But without a cause of such I doo 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 doo 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 aunswere 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 dooth peere And his speech is sad and dead Ill the poore soule liues ywis That so hardly married is Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Rowlands Madrigall FAire Loue rest thee heere Neuer yet was morne so cleere Sweete 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 Heere let all sorrow end And I will honour thee See where little Cupid lyes Looking babies in her eyes Cupid helpe me now Lend to me thy bowe to wound her that wounded me Heere 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 kind to me As I haue beene to thee for thou hast wonne my hart Calme windes blow you faire Rock her thou sweete gentle ayre O the morne is noone The euening comes too soone to part my Loue and me The Roses and thy lips doo meete Oh that life were halfe so sweete 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 sweete and be still Let them sing their fill there 's none our ioyes to let Sunne why doo'st thou goe so fast
thee That Loue dooth so enrich my fill But now behold my cheefest will That faine I would Loue thee more if that I could Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Sireno a Sheepheard hauing a lock of his faire Nimphs haire wrapt about with greene silke mournes thus in a Loue-Dittie WHat chang's heere ô haire I see since I saw you How ill fits you this greene to weare For hope the colour due In deede I well did hope Though hope were mixt with feare No other Sheepheard should haue scope Once to approach this heare Ah haire how many dayes My Dian made me show With thousand prettie childish playes If I ware you or no Alas how oft with teares Oh teares of guilefull brest She seemed full of iealous feares Whereat I did but iest Tell me ô haire of gold If I then faultie be That trust those killing eyes I would Since they did warrant me Haue you not seene her moode What streames of teares she spent Till that I sware my faith so stoode As her words had it bent Who hath such beautie seene In one that changeth so Or where one loues so constant beene Who euer saw such woe Ah haires you are not greeu'd To come from whence you be Seeing how once you saw I liu'd To see me as you see On sandie banke of late I saw this woman sit Where Sooner die then change my state She with her finger writ Thus my beleefe was stay'd Behold Loues mighty hand On things were by a vvoman say'd And written in the sand Translated by S. Phil. Sidney out of Diana of Montmaior ¶ A Song betweene Taurisius and Diana aunswering verse for verse Taurisius THe cause why that thou doo'st denie To looke on me sweete foe impart Diana Because that dooth not please the eye Which dooth offend and greeue the hart Taurisius What woman is or euer was That when she looketh could be mou'd Diana She that resolues her life to passe Neyther to loue nor to be lou'd Taurisius There is no hart so fierce and hard That can so much torment a soule Diana Nor Sheepheard of so small regard That reason will so much controule Taurisius How falls it out Loue dooth not kill Thy crueltie with some remorce Diana Because that Loue is but a will And free-will dooth admit no force Taurisius Behold what reason now thou hast To remedie my louing smart Diana The very same bindes me as fast To keepe such daunger from my hart Taurisius Why doo'st thou thus torment my minde And to what end thy beautie keepe Diana Because thou call'st me still vnkinde And pittilesse when thou doo'st weepe Taurisius Is it because thy crueltie In killing me dooth neuer end Diana Nay for because I meane thereby My hart from sorrow to defend Taurisius Be bold so foule I am no way As thou doo'st think faire Sheepheardesse Diana With this content thee that I say That I beleeue the same no lesse Taurisius What after giuing me such store Of passions doo'st thou mock me too Diana If aunsweres thou wilt any more Goe seeke them without more adoo Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Another Song before her Maiestie at Oxford sung by a comely Sheepheard attended on by sundrie other Sheepheards and Nimphs HEarbs words and stones all maladies haue cured Hearbs words and stones I vsed when loued Hearbs smells words winde stones hardnes haue procured By stones nor words nor hearbs her mind was moued I ask'd the cause this was a womans reason Mongst hearbs are weedes and thereby are refused Deceite as well as trueth speakes words in season False stones by foiles haue many one abused I sigh'd and then she sayd my fancie smoaked I gaz'd she sayd my lookes were follies glauncing I sounded dead she sayd my loue was choaked I started vp she sayd my thoughts were dauncing Oh sacred Loue if thou haue any Godhead Teach other rules to winne a maydenhead Anonimus FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards Song a Caroll or Himne for Christmas SWeete Musique sweeter farre Then any Song is sweete Sweete Musique heauenly rare Mine eares ô peeres dooth greete You gentle flocks whose fleeces pearl'd with dewe Resemble heauen whom golden drops make bright Listen ô listen now ô not to you Our pipes make sport to shorten wearie night But voyces most diuine Make blisfull Harmonie Voyces that seeme to shine For what else cleares the skie Tunes can we heare but not the Singers see The tunes diuine and so the Singers be Loe how the firmament Within an azure fold The flock of starres hath pent That we might them behold Yet from their beames proceedeth not this light Nor can their Christalls such reflection giue What then dooth make the Element so bright The heauens are come downe vpon earth to liue But harken to the Song Glorie to glories King And peace all men among These Queristers doo sing Angels they are as also Sheepheards hee Whom in our feare we doo admire to see Let not amazement blinde Your soules said he annoy To you and all mankinde My message bringeth ioy For loe the worlds great Sheepheard now is borne A blessed Babe an Infant full of power After long night vp-risen is the morne Renowning Bethlem in the Sauiour Sprung is the perfect day By Prophets seene a farre Sprung is the mirthfull May Which Winter cannot marre In Dauids Cittie dooth this Sunne appeare Clouded in flesh yet Sheepheards sit we heere E. B. FINIS ¶ Arsileus his Caroll for ioy of the new mariage betweene Syrenus and Diana LEt now each Meade with flowers be depainted Of sundry colours sweetest odours glowing Roses yeeld foorth your smells so finely tainted Calme winds the greene leaues mooue with gentle blowing The Christall Riuers flowing With waters be encreased And since each one from sorrow now hath ceased From mournfull plaints and sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Let Springs and Meades all kinde of sorrow banish And mournfull harts the teares that they are bleeding Let gloomie cloudes with shining morning vanish Let euery bird reioyce that now is breeding And since by new proceeding With mariage now obtained A great content by great contempt is gained And you deuoyd of sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Who can make vs to change our firme desires And soule to leaue her strong determination And make vs freeze in Ice and melt in fires And nicest harts to loue with emulation Who rids vs from vexation And all our minds commaundeth But great Felicia that his might withstandeth That fill'd our harts with sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Your fields with their distilling fauours cumber Bridegroome and happy Bride each heauenly power Your flocks with double Lambs encreas'd in number May neuer tast vnsauorie grasse and sower The Winters frost and shower Your Kids your pretie pleasure May neuer hurt and blest with so much treasure To driue away all sadnes Ring foorth faire Nimphs your ioyfull Songs for gladnes Of that sweete ioy delight you
tedious howers Amongst those painted meades and flowers A certaine Sheepheard full of woe Syrenus call'd his flocks did feede Not sorrowfull in outward show But troubled with such greefe indeede As cruell Loue is wont t' impart Vnto a painefull louing hart This Sheepheard euery day did die For loue he to Diana bare A Sheepheardesse so fine perdie So liuely young and passing faire Excelling more in beauties feature Then any other humane creature VVho 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 indeede the hart is free From suffering paine or torments smart If wisedome dooth not ouer-see And beareth not the greatest part The smallest greefe and care of minde Dooth make it captiue to their kinde Neere to a Riuer swift and great That famous Ezla had to name The carefull Sheepheard did repeate The â—eares 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 Sheepheardesse that there about Was on the mountaines of that old And auncient Leon seeking out From place to place the pastures best Her Lambs to feede her selfe to rest And sometime musing as he lay When on those hills she was not seene Was thinking of that happie day When Cupid gaue him such a Queene Of beautie and such cause of ioy Wherein his minde he did imploy Yet sayd poore man when he did see Him selfe so sunke in sorrowes pit The good that Loue hath giuen me I onely doo imagine it Because this neerest harme and trouble Heereafter 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 Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard to the flowers SWeete 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 proude to touch those places And when her warmth your moysture foorth dooth weare Whereby her daintie parts are sweetly fed Your honours of the flowrie Meades I pray You prettie daughters of the earth and Sunne With mild and seemely breathing straite display My bitter sighs that haue my hart vndone Vermillion Roses that with new dayes rise Display your crimson folds fresh looking faire Whose radiant bright disgraces The rich adorned rayes of roseate rising morne Ah if hâ—â— Virgins hand Doo plucâ—â—â—r pure ere Phoebus view the land And vaile your gracious pompe in louely Natures scorne If chaunce my Mistres 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 torments sorrowing for her friend Whose drops of blood within your leaues consorting Report faire Venus moanes to haue no end Then may remorce in pittying of my smart Drie vp my teares and dwell within her hart Ignoto FINIS ¶ The Sheepheard 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 gladnes that admires My soule to lay a-side her mourning tire And sences to prepare a place for ioy Care in obliuion endlesse shall expire For euery greefe 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 and 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 glorie Cupid beares Sences which seeke my starre so cleare and bright By making heere and there your thoughts estray Tell me what will you feele before her sight Hence solitarinesse torments away Felt for her sake and wearied members cast Of all your paine redeem'd this happie day O stay not time but passe with speedie hast And Fortune hinder not her comming now O God betides me yet this greefe at last Come my sweete Sheepheardesse the life which thou Perhaps didst thinke was ended long agoe At thy commaund is readie still to bow Comes not my Sheepheardesse desired so O God what if she 's lost or if she stray Within this vvood where trees so thick doo grow Or if this Nimph that lately went away Perhaps forgot to goe and seeke her out No no in her obliuion neuer lay Thou onely art my Sheepheardesse about Whose thoughts my soule shall finde her ioy and rest Why comm'st not then to assure it from doubt O seest thou not the Sunne passe to the West And if it passe and I behold thee not Then I my wonted torments will request And thou shalt waile my hard and heauie lot Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Another of Astrophell to his Stella IN a Groaue most rich of shade Where birds wanton musique made May then young his pyed weedes showing New perfum'd with flowers fresh growing Astrophell with Stella sweete Did for mutuall comfort meete Both within them-selues oppressed But each in the other blessed Him great harmes had taught much care Her faire necke a foule yoake bare But her sight his cares did banish In his sight her yoake did vanish Wept they had alas the while But now teares them-selues did smile While their eyes by Loue directed Enter changeably reflected Sigh they did but now betwixt Sighs of woes were glad sighs mixt With armes crost yet testifying Restlesse rest and liuing dying Their eares hungry of each vvord Which the deare tongue would afford But their tongues restrain'd from walking Till their harts had ended talking But when their tongues could not speake Loue it selfe did silence breake Loue did set his lips a-sunder Thus to speake in loue and wonder Stella Soueraigne of my ioy Faire triumpher of annoy Stella starre of heauenly fire Stella Loadstarre of desire Stella in whose shining eyes Are the lights of Cupids skies Whose
beames where they once are darted Loue there-with is straite imparted Stella whose voyce when it speakes Sences all a-sunder breakes Stella whose voyce when it singeth Angels to acquaintance bringeth Stella in whose body is Writ each Character of blisse Whose face all all beauty passeth Saue thy minde which it surpasseth Graunt ô graunt but speech alas Failes me fearing on to passe Graunt ô me what am I saying But no fault there is in praying Graunt ô deere on knees I pray Knees on ground he then did stay That not I but since I loue you Time and place for me may mooue you Neuer season was more fit Neuer roome more apt for it Smiling ayre alowes my reason The birds sing now vse the season This small winde which so sweete is See how it the leaues dooth kisse Each tree in his best attyring Sence of loue to loue inspiring Loue makes earth the water drinke Loue to earth makes water sinke And if dumbe things be so wittie Shall a heauenly grace want pittie There his hands in their speech faine Would haue made tongues language plaine But her hands his hands repelling Gaue repulse all grace excelling Then she spake her speech was such As not eares but hart did touch While such wise she loue denied As yet loue she signified Astrophell said she my Loue Cease in these effects to proue Now be still yet still beleeue me Thy greefe more then death dooth greeue me If that any thought in me Can tast comfort but of thee Let me feede with hellish anguish Ioylesse helplesse endlesse languish If those eyes you praised be Halfe so deere as you to me Let me home returne starke blinded Of those eyes and blinder minded If to secret of my hart I doo any wish impart Where thou art not formost placed Be both wish and I defaced If more may be said I say All my blisse on thee I lay If thou loue my loue content thee For all loue all faith is meant thee Trust me while I thee denie In my selfe the smart I trie Tirant honour dooth thus vse thee Stellaes selfe might not refuse thee Therefore deere this no more moue Least though I leaue not thy loue Which too deepe in me is framed I should blush when thou art named There-with-all away she went Leauing him to passion rent With what she had done and spoken That there-with my Song is broken S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ Syrenus his Song to Dianaes Flocks PAssed contents Oh what meane ye Forsake me now and doo not wearie me VVilt thou heare me ô memorie My pleasant dayes and nights againe I haue appai'd with seauen-fold paine Thou hast no more to aske me why For when I went they all did die As thou doo'st see O leaue me then and doo not wearie me Greene field and shadowed valley where Sometime my chiefest pleasure was Behold what I did after passe Then let me rest and if I beare Not with good cause continuall feare Now doo you see O leaue me then and doo not trouble me I saw a hart changed of late And wearied to assure mine Then I was forced to recure mine By good occasion time and fate My thoughts that now such passions hate O what meane ye Forsake me now and doo not wearie me You Lambs and Sheepe that in these Layes Did sometime follow me so glad The merrie houres and the sad Are passed now with all those dayes Make not such mirth and wunted playes As once did ye For now no more you haue deceaued me If that to trouble me you come Or come to comfort me in deede I haue no ill for comforts neede But if to kill me Then in some Now my ioyes are dead and dombe Full well may ye Kill me and you shall make an end of me Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ To Amarillis THough Amarillis daunce in greene Like Faierie Queene And sing full cleere With smiling cheere Yet since her eyes make hart so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more My Sheepe are lost for want of foode And I so wood That all the day I sit and watch a Heard-mayde gay Who laughs to see me sigh so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more Her louing lookes her beautie bright Is such delight That all in vaine I loue to like and loose my gaine For her that thanks me not therefore hey hoe I hill loue no more Ah wanton eyes my friendly foes And cause of woes Your sweet desire Breedes flames of yce and freeze in fire You scorne to see me weepe so sore hey hoe I hill loue no more Loue ye who list I force him not Sith God it wot The more I waile The lesse my sighs and teares preuaile What shall I doo but say therefore hey hoe I hill loue no more Out of M. Birds set Songs FINIS ¶ Cardenia the Nimph to her false Sheepheard Faustus FAustus if thou wilt reade from me These fewe and simple lines By them most clearely thou shalt fee How little should accounted be Thy faigned words and signes For noting well thy deedes vnkinde Sheepheard 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 found As smoake blowne in the aire Or like Quick-siluer turning round Or as a house built on the ground Of sands that doo impaire To firmenesse thou art contrarie More slipp'rie then the Ecle Changing as Weather-cocke on hie Or the Camelion on the die Or Fortunes turning wheele VVho would beleeue thou wert so free To blaze me thus each houre My Sheepheardesse thou liu'st in me My soule dooth 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 Sheepheard 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 tytle 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 pacience mooues That though Diana dooth excell In beautie yet she keepes not well Her faith nor loyall prooues 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 doo offend Thy deedes doo hurt me more Thus let each one of vs amend Thou deedes I words so spent For I confesse I blame my pen Doo thou as much so in the end They deedes thou doo repent Bar. Yong. FINIS ¶ Of Phillida AS I beheld I saw a Heardman wilde with his sheepe-hooke
coy heigh hoe heigh hoe coy disdaine I know you loue a Sheepheards boy fie that Maydens so should faine Well Amarillis now I yeeld Sheepheards pipe aloude Loue conquers both in towne and field like a Tirant fierce and proude The euening starre is vp ye see Vesper shines we must away Would euery Louer might agree so we end our Roundelay H. C. FINIS The Sheepheards Antheme NEere to a bancke 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 scornfull eye Where sticks the arrow that poore hart did kill With whose sharpe pyle yet will him ere he 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 shee may see my fayth and her denying His Hearse shall be a mournfull 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 Sheepheards yeerely mone his timelesse death beweeping And telling that my hart alone hath his last will in keeping Mich. Drayton FINIS The Countesse of Pembrookes Pastorall A Sheepheard and a Sheepheardesse sate keeping sheepe vpon the downes His lookes did gentle blood expresse her beauty was no foode for clownes Sweet louely twaine what might you be Two fronting hills bedect with flowers they chose to be each others seate And there they stole theyr amorous houres with sighes and teares poore louers meate Fond Loue that feed'st thy seruants so Faire freend 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 been 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 chyldlesse they be left alone Father nor freend 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 heere But with our soules deale not they may the God of loue doth hold them deere Hee is most meet to rule true loue I know said shee t is worse then hell when Parents choyse must please our eyes Great hurt comes thereby I can tell forc'd loue in desperate danger dies Fayre mayde then fancie thy true loue If wee quoth hee might see the houre of that sweet state which neuer ends Our heauenly gree might haue the power to make our Parents as deere freends All rancour yeelds to soueraine loue Then God of loue sayd shee 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 alwayes tend when thus they got theyr priuate walke As happy fortune chaunc'd to send vnknowne to each heard all this talke Poore soules to be so crost in loue Behind 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 ceasse They likewise ioyned hand in hand the Sheepheard and the Sheepheardesse Like fortune still befall true loue Shep. Tome FINIS Another of Astrophell THe Nightingale so soone as Aprill bringeth Vnto her rested sence a perfect waking While late bare earth proude of newe clothing springeth Sings out her woes a thorne her Song-booke making And mournfully bewayling Her throate in tunes expresseth What greefe her brest oppresseth For Tereus force on her chast will preuailing Oh Philamela 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 Alas shee 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 was broken But I who daily crauing Cannot haue to content mee Haue more cause to lament mee Sith wanting is more woe then too much hauing Oh Philamela 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 S. Phil. Sidney FINIS ¶ Faire Phillis and her Sheepheard SHeepheard 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 Sheepheard beare a part Pray to Cupids mother For I know no other that can helpe to ease my smart Sheepheard I haue seene thy faire louely Phillis Where her flocks are feeding by the Riuers side Oh I must admire she so farre exceeding In surpassing beautie should surpasse in pride But alas I finde They are all vnkinde Beauty 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 doo despaire haue her I shall neuer If she 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 prooue her Let them shew I loue her gracious Venus be my guide But though I complaine me She will still disdaine me beauty is so full of pride What though she be faire speake and feare not speeding Be she 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 doo denie Thus to her replie Venus lawes she must be taught Then with kisses mooue her That 's the way to prooue her thus thy Phillis must be wone She will not forsake thee But her Loue will make thee When Loues duty 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 should denie yet doo not despaire She is full of pride Venus be my guide helpe a sillie Sheepheards speede Vse no such delay Sheepheard goe thy way venture man and doo the deede I will sore complaine me Say that loue hath slaine thee if her fauours doo not feede But take no deniall Stand vpon thy triall spare to speake and want of speede I. G. FINIS ¶ The Sheepheards 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 opend wide to view her Philomel records pleasing Harmonies Euery bird of spring cheerefully did sing Paphos Goddesse they salute Now Loues Queene so faire had of mirth no care for her Sonne had made her mute In her breast so tender He a shaft did enter when her eyes beheld a boy Adonis was he named By his Mother shamed yet he now is Venus ioy Him alone she met ready bound for hunting Him she kindly greetes and his iourney stayes Him she seekes to kisse no deuises wanting Him her eyes still wooe him her tongue still prayes He with blushing red Hangeth downe the head not a kisse can he afford His face is turn'd away Silence sayd her nay still she woo'd him for a word Speake shee said thou fairest Beautie thou impairest see mee I am pale and wan Louers all adore mee I for loue implore thee christall teares with that downe ran Him heere-with shee forc'd to come sit downe by her Shee his necke embrac'de gazing in his face Hee like once transformd stird no looke to eye her Euery hearbe did wooe him growing in that place Each bird with a dittie prayed him for pitty in behalfe of beauties Queene Waters gentle murmour craued him to loue her yet no liking could be seene Boy shee sayd looke on mee Still I gaze vpon thee speake I pray thee my delight Coldly hee replyed And in breefe denyed to bestow on her a sight I am now too young to be wunne by beauty Tender are my yeeres I am yet a bud Fayre thou art shee said then it is thy dutie Wert thou but a blossome to effect my good Euery beauteous flower boasteth in my power Byrds 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 freend Wend thee from mee Venus I am not disposed Thou wring'st mee 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 mee I will leaue heere a kisse receiue a short kisse I doe it find Wilt thou leaue me so yet thou shalt not goe breathe once more thy balmie wind It smelleth of the Mirh-tree That to the world did bring thee neuer was perfume so sweet When she had thus spoken Shee gaue him a token and theyr naked bosoms meet Now hee sayd let 's goe harke the hounds are crying Grieslie Boare is vp Hunts-men follow fast At the name of Boare Venus seemed dying Deadly coloured pale Roses ouer-cast Speake sayd shee 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 vowed to please her minde Then her armes enlarged Loth shee him discharged forth he went as swift as winde Thetis Phoebus Steedes in the West retained Hunting sport was past Loue her loue did seeke Sight of him too soone gentle Queene shee 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 shee fell in a swound and awakte her hands did wring Nimphs and Satires skipping Came together tripping Eccho euery cry exprest Venus by her power Turnd him to a flower which shee weareth in her creast H. C. FINIS ¶ Thirsis the Sheepheard his deaths song THirsis to die desired marking her eyes that to his hart was neerest And shee that with his flame no lesse was fiered sayd to him Oh hart 's loue deerest Alas forbeare to die now By thee I liue by thee I wish to die too Thirsis that heate refrained wherewith to die poore louer then hee hasted Thinking it death while hee 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 espyed the haruest of loues treasure Said thus with eyes all trembling faint and wasted I die now The Sheepheard then replyed and I sweet life doe die too Thus these two Louers foutunately dyed Of death so sweet so happy and so desired That to die so againe their life retired Out of Maister N. Young his Musica Transalpina FINIS ¶ Another stanza added after THirsis enioyed the graces Of Chloris sweet embraces Yet both theyr ioyes were scanted For darke it was and candle-light they wanted Wherewith kinde Cinthia 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 dyed and reuiued Out of the same FINIS ¶ Another Sonet thence taken ZEphirus brings the time sweetly senteth with flowers and hearbs which Winters frost exileth Progne now chirpeth Philomel lamentesh Flora the Garlands white and red compileth Fields doo 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 hart 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 Sheepheards 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 straungest dreame that euer Sheepheard had Me thought I saw each Christmas game each reuell all and some And euery thing that I can name or may in fancie