Two hundred copies of this edition have been printed 
 on large paper. 
 
POEM S 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM BROWNE 
 Vol. I. 
 
THE POEMS OF 
 
 WILLIAM BROWNE 
 
 OF TAVISTOCK: 
 
 EDITED BY GORDON GOODWIN, 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 BY A. H. BULLEN. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 .LAWRENCE & BULLEN, 
 
 16, Henrietta Street, W.C. 
 1893- 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WOODFALL AND KINDER, 
 70 TO 76 LONG ACRE, VV.C. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 2' AGE 
 
 Editor's Note ...... ix 
 
 Introduction xiii 
 
 Britannia's Pastorals. Books I. and II. . i 
 
EDITOR'S NOTE. 
 
 In the present edition of Browne's poems 
 the text has been revised by a careful collation 
 of the original editions and all known manu- 
 scripts. The more important various readings 
 are given in the notes at the end of the second 
 volume. 
 
 The first book of Brita7inids Pastorals ap- 
 peared in folio, without any date on the 
 curiously-engraved title-page, but the address 
 to the reader is dated 18th June, 1613, and the 
 volume was entered in the Stationers' Registers 
 on the ensuing 1 5th November. The second 
 book followed in 161 6. The two books were 
 reissued in an octavo volume in 1625. The 
 third book of the Pastorals was not published 
 in the poet's lifetime ; but Beriah Botfield, 
 while engaged in collecting materials for his 
 
X 
 
 EDITOR'S NOTE, 
 
 work on cathedral libraries, discovered a marm 
 script copy of it in the library of Salisbury 
 Cathedral. It is a neatly- written manuscript, 
 bound up at the end of a copy of the folio 
 edition of the first two books (1613-16), which 
 appears to have belonged to one Richard 
 Charles. Preceding it are two leaves, roughly 
 written and with many corrections and erasures, 
 containing the elegy on Thomas Man wood (the 
 fourth eclogue of The Shepherd's Pipe), and 
 three short poems, which are now printed for 
 the first time. In the printed portion of the 
 volume are several manuscript emendations. 
 The MS., so far as it related to the Pastorals, 
 was printed for the Percy Society in 1852, under 
 the editorship of T. Crofton Croker, and it has 
 since been reprinted in Mr. W. Carew Hazlitfs 
 collective edition of Browne's works (2 vols. 
 1868-69). 
 
 The Shepherds Pipe appeared in 16 14, small 
 8vo. It contains seven eclogues by Browne, to 
 which are appended eclogues by Christopher 
 Brooke, George Wither, and John Davies of 
 Hereford. A reprint of it was included in The 
 Works of Master George Wither (1620). 
 
 The Inner Temple Masque, written to be 
 represented by the members of that society on 
 
 1 
 
EDITOR'S NOTE. 
 
 xi 
 
 the 13th January, 1614-15, was first printed in 
 Thomas Davies's edition of Browne's poems 
 (3 vols. 1772), from a manuscript in the library 
 of Emmanuel College, Cambridge. Another 
 manuscript copy is in the possession of Mr. H. 
 Chandos Pole-Gell, of Hopton Hall, Wirks- 
 worth, and has been kindly lent for collation. 
 
 Among the Lansdowne MSS. (No. 777) in 
 the British Museum is a collection of poems by 
 Browne, dated 1650, but apparently made a few 
 years earlier, which was first printed by Sir 
 Samuel Egerton Brydges at the Lee Priory 
 Press in 181 5, and reprinted in 1869 by Mr. 
 Hazlitt. Another middle seventeenth-century 
 MS. in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, 
 contains two poems by Browne — the epitaph 
 on Anne Prideaux (six lines), and that on the 
 Countess of Pembroke (twelve lines), both of 
 which, however, are in the Lansdowne MS. 
 
 Browne's elegy on Henry, Prince of Wales, 
 his earliest publication, was printed in 1613, 
 with an elegy by Christopher Brooke, in a small 
 quarto of seventeen leaves, entitled Two 
 Elegies, consecrated to the never-dying Memory 
 of the most worthily admired, most heartily 
 loved, and generally bewailed Prince, Henry 
 Prince of Wales. There is a manuscript copy 
 
xii 
 
 EDITOR'S NOTE. 
 
 of this elegy in the Bodleian Library. It was 
 afterwards introduced, in a somewhat altered 
 form, into the fifth song of the first book of 
 Britannia *s Pastorals. 
 
 I have derived considerable assistance from 
 the previous labours of Mr. Hazlitt : his com- 
 mentary contains much that is suggestive ; 
 while the topographical and other notes of his 
 Devonshire correspondent, Mr. John Shelly, 
 have but one fault— they are too few. 
 
 Gordon Goodwin. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 William BROWNE was a modest unassuming 
 spirit, but he flushed with honest pride when he 
 reflected on the worthiness of his native Devon- 
 shire. In the Third Song of the Second Book 
 of Britannia s Pastorals, he writes : — 
 
 Show me who can so many crystal rills, 
 
 Such sweet-cloth'd vallies or aspiring hills; 
 
 Such wood-ground, pastures, quarries, wealthy mines ; 
 
 Such rocks in whom the diamond fairly shines. 
 
 If for beauty and fertility Devonshire might be 
 matched, yet where could be found such another 
 race of sea-ruling men as Grenville, Davis, 
 Gilbert, Drake, Hawkins, and 
 
 thousands more 
 That by their power made the Devonian shore 
 Mock the proud Tagus ? 
 
 He sadly contrasted the stirring days of 
 Elizabeth with the pusillanimous reign of 
 
 VOL. I. b 
 
xvi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 James I. In a passage of striking picturesque- 
 ness, he describes how the old ships that had 
 repelled the Armada, and had harassed the 
 Spaniard on every sea, now lay rotting in 
 harbour : 
 
 And on their masts, where oft the ship-boy stood, 
 Or silver trumpet charm'd the brackish flood, 
 Some wearied crow is set. 
 
 Once these ships had sailed into the Devon 
 ports laden with the harvests snatched from 
 Spain, but now 
 
 Upon their hatches, where half-pikes were borne, 
 In every chink rise stems of bearded corn : 
 Mocking our idle times that so have wrought us, 
 Or putting us in mind what once they brought us. 
 
 It is pleasant to know that the old poet who 
 sang so heartily the praises of Devon is yet 
 beloved * on the banks of the Tavy and the 
 Plym. 
 
 Tavistock was Browne's native place, and he 
 was born not later than 1 591. No record of 
 his baptism is extant, as the Tavistock registers 
 do not begin before 1640. He was a son of 
 
 * Articles on Browne are in the Transactions of the 
 Devonshire Association, vol. vi, 532, and vol. xix. 219- 
 237. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xvii 
 
 Thomas Browne of Tavistock, who is supposed 
 by Prince {Worthies of Devon) to have belonged 
 to the knightly family of the Brownes of 
 Browne's Hash in the parish of Langtree, near 
 Great Torrington, Devonshire, a branch of the 
 Brownes of Betchworth Castle in Surrey.* 
 From Tavistock Grammar-school he passed 
 <: about the beginning of the reign of James I." 
 (Wood's Fasti) to Exeter College, Oxford. 
 Leaving the University without a degree, he 
 entered Clifford's Inn, whence he migrated in 
 November 1 6 1 1 to the Inner Temple.f On 
 1 8th April, 1615, a William Browne was 
 appointed pursuivant to the Court of Wards 
 and Liveries ; but we cannot be confident! that 
 it was the poet who received the appointment, 
 for there were two other William Brownes at 
 
 * The pedigree on the following page was given by 
 Sir Egerlon Brydges from Harl. MS. 6164, before the 
 collection of Browne's miscellaneous poems issued from 
 the Lee Priory Press in 1815. 
 
 f He was admitted to the Inner Temple on 1st March, 
 1611-12 (not 1612-13, as stated by Mr. Hazlitt). George 
 Glapthorne, who became a surety for him on his 
 admission, was the elder brother of Henry Glapthorne 
 the dramatist. 
 
 X It is worth noting that the poet's friend Sir Benjamin 
 Rudyard was appointed Surveyor of this Court in 1618. 
 
 b 2 
 
xviii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xix 
 
 the Inner Temple — one from Chichester, and 
 one from Walcott, Northants (Students of the 
 Inner Temple, 1 571-1625, pp. 32, 57). 
 
 Browne was twice married. His first wife 
 appears to have died in 16 14. Among his mis- 
 cellaneous poems in Lansdowne MS. 777 (first 
 printed by Brydges) is the following epitaph : — 
 
 In Obitum M S, X° Maij, 1614. 
 May ! be thou never grac'd with birds that sing, 
 
 Nor Flora's pride ! 
 In thee all flowers and roses spring, 
 
 Mine only died. 
 
 The letters " M S " may well stand for 
 " Maritse Suae." In the same collection is an 
 undated epitaph " On his Wife " ; it is imme- 
 diately preceded by " My own Epitaph," which 
 is subscribed " Wm. Browne, 16 14." His 
 second wife was Timothy, daughter of Sir 
 Thomas Eversfield, Kt., of Denne in the 
 parish of Horsham, Sussex. The series of 
 Sonnets (II, 217-225) headed "Caelia" was 
 evidently addressed to this lady. From the 
 epistle beginning " Dear soul, the time is come 
 and we must part" (II, 228-9) lt mav be 
 gathered that the engagement was protracted, — 
 
 Seven summers now are fully spent and gone, 
 Since first I lov'd, lov'd you, and you alone. 
 
XX 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Browne's friend Michael Drayton wooed a 
 lady for thirty years, and the marriage never 
 took place after all. Browne began to pay his 
 addresses to Miss Eversfield in 1615 (see An 
 Epistle, II, 234-6) ; and at length, after thirteen 
 years' courtship, they were married at Horsham 
 on 24th December, 1628. Two sons were born 
 of the marriage, but died in infancy."* Sir 
 Thomas Eversfield, in his will proved on 25th 
 October, 161 6, wished his three unmarried 
 daughters — Timothy, Joyce, and Bridget — to 
 have such portions as his wife should think fit 
 to be raised out of his lease of Tilgate, and he 
 named one thousand marks apiece as being a 
 suitable sum. Lady Eversfield appears to have 
 paid Timothy's dowry in full, as her will (made 
 in October 1640) concludes with this emphatic 
 declaration : — " I owe my son Browne not one 
 farthing of my daughter's portion for use nor 
 yet principal."! 
 
 * 1. Robert, baptized at Horsham on 27th September, 
 1629, died soon afterwards ; 2. Robert, baptized on 
 20th March, 1630-1, buried on 22nd of the following 
 March. 
 
 + Lady Eversfield thus mentions Mrs. Browne in her 
 will : — " I give to my daughter Browne for a remem- 
 brance, to whom I have already given a portion, more 
 now* twenty shillings to make her a ring to wear for 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xxi 
 
 Browne dedicated the First Book of Britan- 
 nia s Pastorals, n. d. [1613], and The Shepherd's 
 Pipe, 1 6 14, to Lord Zouch, who had been 
 President of Wales, and was afterwards (161 0 
 Warden of the Cinque Ports. Selden contri- 
 buted laudatory verses in Greek, Latin, and 
 English ; Michael Drayton, Christopher Brooke, 
 and others added their commendations. The 
 Second Book of Britannia's Pastorals, 161 6, 
 was dedicated to that famous patron of poets, 
 himself a poet, William Herbert, third Earl 
 of Pembroke. Among those who prefixed 
 complimentary verses were John Davies of 
 Hereford, George Wither, and Ben Jonson. 
 One of the contributors, John Morgan of the 
 Inner Temple, delicately expressed the hope 
 that Browne would receive some tangible token 
 of the Earl's esteem : — 
 
 And may thy early strains affect the ear 
 
 Of that rare Lord, who judge and guerdon can 
 
 The richer gifts which do advantage man, 
 
 Browne owed much to the Herberts ; and his 
 
 my sake, and my seal ring, and my velvet gown and 
 white petticoat, my gold coif and crosscloth to it." — For 
 this extract I am indebted to Mr. Gordon Goodwin, 
 whose researches have supplied whatever additions I 
 have been able to make to Browne's family history, 
 
xxii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 monument of gratitude — the noble epitaph* on 
 " Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother" — will 
 endure to the end of time. 
 
 At the beginning of 1624 Browne returned 
 to Exeter College as tutor to Hon. Robert 
 Dormer,f afterwards Earl of Carnarvon. The 
 Matriculation Book contains the entry — " 30 
 April 1624, William Browne, son of Thomas 
 Browne, gentleman, of Tavistock, matriculated, 
 a & e 33-" On 25th August of the same year he 
 obtained permission to be created Master of 
 Arts, and the degree was conferred on 16th 
 November. In the public register of the 
 University he was styled " vir omni hivmana 
 literarum et bonarum artitim cognitione in- 
 structus." By the members of his college he 
 was held in high admiration. Beloe possessed 
 a copy of the 1625 edition of Britannia 1 s Pas- 
 torals, containing MS. commendatory poems, 
 evidently written to accompany the Third 
 Book (circ. 1635), which was prepared for 
 publication, but was left unpublished. These 
 
 * This epitaph is commonly assigned (without 
 authority) to Ben Jonsom The evidence in favour of 
 Browne's claim is convincing. See note, vol. ii, p. 350. 
 
 f Dormer contributed Latin elegiacs on the death of 
 James I. to the Oxford collection of 14 Parentalia, * 
 1625, to which Browne also contributed. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxiii 
 
 poems in almost every instance bear the 
 signatures of members of Exeter College ; their 
 merit is slender, but they testify strongly to the 
 affectionate esteem which Browne had won for 
 himself. Sometimes we find his name coupled 
 with the name of his dear friend Michael 
 Drayton.* In 1629 Samuel Austin, a Cornish- 
 man who had been educated at Exeter College, 
 dedicated a sacred poem, " Urania," to " my 
 ever-honoured friends, those most refined wits 
 and favourers of most exquisite learning, Mr. 
 M. Drayton, Mr. Will. Browne, and my most 
 ingenious kinsman, Mr. Andrew Pollexfen" 
 Young Abraham Holland, a son of Philemon 
 Holland, addressed a copy of verses (preserved 
 in Ashmole MS. 36) to " my honest father Mr. 
 
 * In his delightful Epistle to Henry Reynolds of Poets 
 and Poesy (1627), Drayton spoke with cordial warmth of 
 the friendship that he bore to Browne : — 
 
 " Then the two Beaumonts and my Browne arose, 
 My dear companions whom I freely chose 
 My bosom friends, and in their several ways 
 Rightly born poets, and in these last days 
 Men of much note and no less nobler parts, 
 Such as have freely told to me their hearts 
 As I have mine to them." 
 
 One of his epistles was addressed to Browne. 
 
xxiv 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 Michael Drayton and my new yet loved friend 
 Mr. Will. Browne." 
 
 Anthony a Wood states that, after acting as 
 tutor to Robert Dormer, Browne was received 
 into the family of the Herberts at Wilton, where 
 " he got wealth and purchased an estate." 
 Browne may have been temporarily in the 
 service of the Herberts (as Samuel Daniel had 
 been in earlier days), but it is hard to believe 
 the latter part of Wood's statement. He seems 
 to have acquired in some way a modest compe- 
 tence, which secured him immunity from the 
 troubles that weighed so heavily on men of 
 letters. In Surrey, round Betchworth and 
 Dorking, his family had been long established. 
 He married in 1628, as we have seen, a knight's 
 daughter at Horsham, who brought him a 
 portion. With the patronage of the Herberts 
 and the Dormers, and with such money as he 
 received with his wife, he w r as able to " rub on," 
 though he may not have " got wealth and pur- 
 chased an estate." After his second marriage 
 he appears to have settled in the neighbourhood 
 of Dorking. In Ashmole MS. 830 is preserved 
 the following letter (first printed by Mr. Hazlitt), 
 which he addressed in November, 1640, to Sir 
 Benjamin Rudyard :— 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XXV 
 
 To Sir Benjamin Rudyard. 
 
 Sir,— I beseech you to pardon ray interposing your 
 most serious affairs with the remembrance of my service. 
 The cause requires it, and every man who knows I have 
 the honour to be known by you would think me stupid 
 in not congratulating what every one thinks he hath a 
 share in. I mean your late speech in Parliament, 
 wherein they believe the spirit which inspired the 
 Reformation and the genius which dictated the Magna 
 Charta possessed you. In my poor cell and sequestra- 
 lion from all business, I bless God and pray for more 
 such members in the Commonwealth ; and could you 
 but hear (as it is pity but you should) what I do, it 
 would add some years to your honoured hairs. Believe 
 it, Sir, you have given such a maintenance to that 
 repute which your former deportment had begotten 
 that it will need no other livelihood than a chronicle, 
 which I hope our ensuing age will not see it want for. 
 I have now done. 'Tis Sunday night : when I have 
 prayed for my honoured lord the Lord Chamberlain,* 
 my good lord and master the Earl of Carnarvon, and 
 for you and your good proceedings, I hope I shall 
 wake with the same thoughts again, and be ever 
 Your most obliged servant, 
 
 Wm. Browne. 
 
 Dorking, Nov. 29, 1640. 
 
 * Philip Herbert, fourth Earl of Pembroke. He was 
 father-in-law to the Earl of Carnarvon (Robert Dormer). 
 In the Civil Wars he sided with the Parliament ; his 
 son-in-law fell, fighting for the King, at the first battle 
 of Newbury (20th Sept., 1643). 
 
xxvi 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 The speech to which the letter refers was 
 delivered before the Long Parliament early 
 in November. It dealt freely with the subject 
 of public grievances, urging that evil counsel- 
 lors should be removed from the King. 
 
 William Browne died in or before 1645. 
 Administration of his estate was granted (in the 
 Prerogative Court of Canterbury) to his widow, 
 Timothy Browne, on 6th November, 1645.* ^ n 
 the Actf he is described as "late of Dorking, 
 in the county of Surrey, Esquire." There is no 
 trace of his death or burial in the Dorking 
 register, and the Horsham register has been 
 searched in vain. It is possible that he was 
 buried at Tavistock. The Tavistock register, 
 under date 27th March, 1643, has an entry — 
 " William Browne was buried." No portrait of 
 the poet is known. Prince says that he had a 
 great mind in a little body, — a conventional 
 expression. 
 
 * His estate was again administered in May 1662, by 
 which time his widow was presumably dead. The Act 
 Book for that year is lost, so that the name of the person 
 to whom this second administration was granted cannot 
 be ascertained. 
 
 f Administration Acts afford no clue to the actual 
 date of death. Wood surmised that Browne died in 
 1645. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xxvii 
 
 The bulk of William Browne's poetry was 
 composed in youth and early manhood. He 
 states that the First Book of Britannia's 
 Pastorals was written before he had reached his 
 twentieth year : — 
 
 O how, methinks, the imps of Mneme bring 
 Dews of invention from the saered spring ! 
 Here could I spend that spring of poesy 
 Which not twice ten suns have bestow'd on me. 
 
 The story of the Pastorals, if story there be, is 
 naught ; it would be a hopeless task to attempt 
 to give an intelligible summary of the adventures 
 of Celand, Marina, and the others. But the 
 dallying difYuseness of the poem constitutes no 
 small part of its charm. Horace Walpole 
 threw out the suggestion that somebody should 
 issue a series of " Lounging Books " — books 
 that one can take up, without fatigue, at odd 
 moments. I fear that his nice critical judg- 
 ment would not have included William Browne 
 in the series ; but to the lovers of our old poets 
 Britannia's Pastorals will always be a favourite 
 lounging book. They know that, at whatever 
 page they open, they have not far to travel 
 before they find entertainment. In the Third 
 Song of the Second Book there is a description 
 of a delightful grove, perfumed with " odoriferous 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 buds and herbs of price," where fruits hang in 
 gallant clusters from the trees, and birds tune 
 their notes to the music of running water ; so 
 fair a pleasaunce 
 
 that you are fain 
 Where last you walk'd to turn and walk again, 
 
 A generous reader might apply that description 
 to Browne's poetry ; he might urge that the 
 breezes which blew down those leafy alleys and 
 over those trim parterres were not more 
 grateful than the fragrance exhaled from the 
 Pastorals, that the brooks and birds babble 
 and twitter in the printed page not less blithely 
 than in that western Paradise. 
 
 What so pleasant as to read of May-games, 
 true-love knots, and shepherds piping in the 
 shade? of pixies and fairy-circles? of rustic 
 bridals and junketings ? of angling, hunting the 
 squirrel, nut-gathering ? Of such-like subjects 
 William Browne treats, singing like the shep- 
 herd in the Arcadia as though he would never 
 grow old. He was a happy poet. It was his 
 good fortune to grow up among wholesome 
 surroundings, whose gracious influences sank 
 into his spirit. He loved the hills and dales 
 round Tavistock, and lovingly described them 
 in his verse. Frequently he indulges in de- 
 
I NT ROD UC TION. 
 
 xx ix 
 
 scriptions of sunrise and sunset ; they leave no 
 vivid impression, but charm the reader by their 
 quiet beauty. It cannot be denied that his 
 fondness for simple, homely images sometimes 
 led him into sheer fatuity ;* and candid admirers 
 must also admit that, despite his study of sim- 
 plicity, he could not refrain from hunting (as 
 the manner was) after far-fetched outrageous 
 conceits. 
 
 Browne had nothing of that restless energy 
 which inspired the old dramatists ; he was all 
 for pastoral contentment. Assuredly he was 
 not a great poet, but he was a true poet, and a 
 modest. In the Fourth Song of the Second 
 Book he tells of the pleasure that he took in 
 wiiting his poetry, and manfully declares that 
 his free-born Muse shall never stoop to servile 
 
 * No excuse can be offered for such a passage as the 
 following (Rook I, Song 3) : — 
 
 " As when some boy trying the somersault, 
 Stands on his head, and feet, as he did lie 
 To kick against earth's spangled canopy ; 
 When seeing that his heels are of such weight, 
 That he cannot obtain their purpos'd height, 
 Leaves any more to strive ; and thus doth say, 
 What now I cannot do, another day 
 May well effect : it cannot be denied 
 1 show'd a will to act, because I tried.'' 
 
XXX 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 flattery. He cultivated poetry for its own sake, 
 and not for what it might bring of advantage or 
 reward : — 
 
 In this case I, as" oft as I will choose, 
 Hug sweet content by my retired Muse, 
 And in a study find as much to please 
 As others in the greatest palaces. 
 
 Sidney and Spenser, whom he regarded as his 
 masters, he held in highest veneration. Among 
 his friends were Ben Jonson, Chapman ("the 
 learned shepherd of fair Hitchin hill "), " well- 
 languaged Daniel," Christopher Brooke, John 
 Davies of Hereford, and Wither. In the 
 Second Song of the Second Book he passes 
 these poets in review, and eulogizes each in 
 turn. The praise that he bestowed on con- 
 temporary poets was by them amply repaid ; 
 and with poets of a later age Browne has found 
 favour. In Mr. Huth's library is preserved a 
 copy of the folio edition of Britannia 's Pastorals, 
 containing MS. annotations stated to be in the 
 handwriting of Milton (who may possibly have 
 taken some hints for Comus from Browne's 
 Inner Temple Masque). Henry Vaughan, in 
 his praises of the river Usk, borrowed from 
 the Second Song of the First Book of the 
 Pastorals. Keats, who chose a motto from 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxi 
 
 the Pastorals for one of his early poems, was 
 much under Browne's influence at the begin- 
 ning of his glorious career, but quickly passed 
 to regions of fancy far removed from the ken 
 of the earlier poet. Mrs. Browning did not 
 omit to introduce Browne in her Vision of the 
 Poets. 
 
 Browne was not only a poet, but a scholar 
 and antiquary,— the friend of Selden. At the 
 beginning of the Pastorals he refers (in a mar- 
 ginal note) to an MS. copy of William of Malmes- 
 bury 6t in the hands of my learned friend 
 M. Selden." In 77ie Shepherd's Pipe he printed 
 from MS. a poem of Hoccleve, and announced 
 " As this shall please, I may be drawn to 
 publish the rest of his works, being all perfect 
 in my hands." Seemingly the public of those 
 days had no anxiety to see Hoccleve's works 
 collected : the project fell through. A curious 
 passage occurs in Nathaniel Carpenter's* 
 Geography delineated forth in two Boo/ces f 1625 
 (pp. 263-4) : — " Many inferiour faculties are yet 
 left, wherein our Devon hath displaied her abili- 
 ties as well as in the former, as in Philosophers, 
 Historians, Oratours and Poets, the blazoning 
 
 * Carpenter was a fellow of Exeter College. He 
 dedicated his Geography to William, Earl of Pembroke, 
 VOL. I c 
 
xxxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of whom to the life, especially the last, I had 
 rather leave to my worthy friend Mr. W. 
 Browne, who, as hee hath already honoured his 
 countrie in his elegant and sweet Pastoralls, so 
 questionles will easily bee intreated a little 
 farther to grace it by drawing out the line of 
 his Poeticke Auncesters, beginning in Josephus 
 Iscanus and ending in himselfe." Probably 
 Carpenter threw out this suggestion at a ven- 
 ture, for there is no evidence to show that 
 Browne had any intention of collecting materials 
 for Lives of the Poets of Devonshire.' 55 ' 
 
 The Two Books of Pastorals, the Eclogues 
 in The Shepherd's Pipe, and some contributions 
 to the 1 6 14 edition of England 's Helicon, con- 
 tain all the poetry that Browne published. He 
 left in MS. a Third Book of Pastorals, the 
 Inner Temple Masque, and some miscellaneous 
 poems. Among the miscellaneous pieces are 
 the excellent bacchanalian song " Now that 
 the spring hath filled our veins,"t and the 
 
 * Anthony a Wood and others, garbling Carpenters 
 words, have represented that Browne was engaged on a 
 History of English Poetry. 
 
 f It was popular in the xviith century, though no early 
 printed copy is extant. In Poor Robins Almanac, 1699, 
 it is mentioned as a well-known song : — " Now [June ] 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xxxiii 
 
 famous ballad " Lydford Journey." Browne 
 lived in an age of song-writing, and at times he 
 could sing with the best. Some charming 
 songs, notably " Shall I tell you whom I love ? " 
 and " Venus by Adonis' side/' are scattered 
 tii rough the Pastorals, and there are good 
 lyrical passages in the Masque. 
 
 In 1647 appeared a translation from the 
 French of M. Le Roy, Sieur de Gomberville, — 
 The History of Polexander. Done into English 
 by William Browne, Gent. For the Right 
 Honourable Philip, Earle of Pembroke and 
 Montgojnery, &*e. London, printed by Tho : 
 Harper for Thomas Walkley, fol. It is to be 
 noted that Walkley was the publisher of the 
 1620 edition of The Shepherd's Pipe. The 
 translation (a holiday task of slender interest) 
 was issued without dedication or preface. Prob- 
 ably the translator may be identified with the 
 author of the Pastorals, for we hear of no 
 other William Browne who was connected with 
 the Pembroke family. A copy of the French 
 original is in the library at Wilton, but not of 
 the English translation. 
 
 is the time when Farmers shear their Sheep . . . and yet 
 for all this, the old Song is in force still, and ever will be, 
 
 ' Shear Sheep that have 'em cry we still. 
 
xxxiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Whether his be the translation or not, the 
 poet was dead when Polexander appeared. 
 His early years were passed in the delightful 
 town of Tavistock ; he spent much time at 
 Wilton, the home of the Herberts ; and he 
 died in, or near, Dorking. Tavistock, — Wilton, 
 ■ — Dorking. Surely few poets have had a more 
 tranquil journey to the Elysian Fields. 
 
 A. H. Bullen. 
 
 t6, Henrietta Street, 
 Covent Garden, London. 
 September, 1893. 
 
BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS 
 
 VOT.. T. 
 
TO 
 
 The no less Ennobled by Virtue, than Ancient 
 in Nobility, the Right Honourable 
 
 EDWARD, 
 Lord Zouch, St. Maur, and Cantelupe, 
 
 and one of His Majesty's Most Honourable 
 Privy Council. 
 
 Honour's bright ray, 
 More highly crown'd with virtue than with years, 
 Pardon a rustic Muse that thus appears 
 
 In shepherd's grey, 
 Entreating your attention to a lay 
 Fitting a sylvan bower, not courtly trains ; 
 
 Such choicer ears, 
 Should have Apollo's priests, not Pan's rude swains. 
 But if the music of contented plains 
 
 A thought uprears 
 For your approvement of that part she bears, 
 When time (that embryons to perfection brings) 
 
 B 2 
 
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. 
 
 Hath taught her strains 
 May better boast their being from the spring 
 Where brave heroes' worths the Sisters sing : 
 
 (In lines whose reigns 
 In spite of Envy and her restless pains 
 Be unconfin'd as blest eternity :) 
 
 The vales shall ring 
 Thy honour'd name, and every song shall be 
 A pyramis built to thy memory. 
 
 Your Honour's 
 
 W. Browne. 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 The times are swoll'n so big with nicer wits, 
 That nought sounds good but what Opinion strikes 
 Censure with Judgment seld a together sits ; 
 And now the man more than the matter likes. 
 
 The great re wardress of a poet's pen, 
 Fame, is by those so clogg'd she seldom flies ; 
 The Muses sitting on the graves of men, 
 Singing that Virtue lives and never dies, 
 
 a Seld, seldom. 
 
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. 
 
 Are chas'd away by the malignant tongues 
 Of such, by whom Detraction is ador'd : 
 Hence grows the want of ever-living songs, 
 With which our isle was whilom a bravely stor'd. 
 
 If such a basilisk dart down his eye 
 (Impoison'd with the dregs of utmost hate), 
 To kill the first blooms of my poesy, 
 It is his worst, and makes me fortunate. 
 
 Kind wits I vail b to, but to fools precise 
 I am as confident as they are nice. 
 
 From the Inner Temple, June the 18th, 161 
 
 W. B. 
 
 * Whilom, formerly. 
 
 b Vail to, submit, defer to. 
 
IN BUCOLICA G. BROUN. 
 
 Quod per secessus rustici otia limits ad Amic. <$r Bon, 
 Lit. amantiss. 
 
 Anacreonticum. 
 
 KaAAos (TOJ'y Kvdepeia, 
 Lhv, Kovpcci Aibs, i}6os 
 'EijLvfjaTevuai', 'IAep.ue* 
 T17 (TV/JLirpatav 'Eparres* 
 Tcus avv TlaWafii QotfZos' 
 Tt)s Movaai irpoKarr]pxov 
 Tats (TV ZovXos vTrapx^iS' 
 Trjs ovuyv atKouarjS. 
 
 T fL ydp iaT avepaaros 
 Vuxv "Ewea rr\vov 
 $€vyoua y ' avrcc eirovrai 
 "Os irpoaTvrraeT'' 'Epwras. 
 Movo~ais k Wtypoytvehj 
 
 UpOVTTTOU TOV70 7T6A€i7K€. 
 
 N6(T(ra£ a/jLtyoreprjaiv 
 Outqds icrcrl <p'l\l(TTOS. 
 
 Ad Amoris Numina. 
 
 QuiN vostrum Paphie, Anteros, Erosque 
 Ut regnum capiat mali quid, absit ! 
 Venus, per Syrium nimis venustum ! 
 Aniplexus teneros, pares, suaves 
 Psyches, per, tibi, basiationum 
 Eros quantum erat ! & per Anterotis 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 * Arnica, Do 
 mir.a (nostro 
 idiomate 
 amatorio, 
 jlKtstress) 
 
 & Neaerasunt 
 uti synonyma 
 Piudentio, 
 ante alios, 
 Peri Steph. 
 hymn. 12. & 
 alicubi. v. 
 si placet & 
 Jos. Scalig.^ 
 ad 3. TibullL 
 
 * Horat. 
 Carm. 1. od. 
 
 13. 
 
 * Ne scilicet 
 quis pernu- 
 rneret. Fini- 
 tus n. & 
 notus nume- 
 rus fascino, 
 apud Vete- 
 res, obnoxi- 
 us. Idque in 
 Basils obser- 
 vation ba- 
 bes ap. Catul.' 
 carm. 5 & 7. 
 
 Felices animas ! periclitanti 
 Obtestor, dubiaeque consulates 
 Rei vostrae t Miserum magis favete 
 Languori, miserum favete amantum, 
 Divi, cordolio ! Quod est amatum 
 Ictu propitii ferite pectus ! 
 Ictus quin fit ab aurea sagitta ! 
 Ortas spe placita fovete flammas I 
 Ortis quin similes paiate flammas ! 
 Suas gnaviter ambiant* Neaeras ! 
 Et cautim laciant suos Neaerae ! 
 Dextras sternuite adprobationes ! 
 Adsuctis detur osculum labellis I 
 Et junctis detur osculum salivis ! 
 Tui nectaris adde, Diva,* quinctam. 
 Conturbet tremulae libido linguae, 
 Ne quis basia* fascinare possit ! 
 Morsus mutua temperet voluptas ! 
 Dormitis, nimiumque defuistis 
 Procis, atque adamantinis puellis. 
 Isthaec prospiciens tibi, Cupido, 
 Audax admonui. Tuas Apollo, 
 Deusque, Arcadiae, Minerva, & Hermes 
 Supplantant Veneres. Murinus arcum 
 Tendit, quin jaculis tua pharetra 
 Surreptis petimuv. Camena texit 
 Cantu daedala, blandulum Aphrodites 
 Cestum, & insidias plicat. Minervae 
 Buxus, Mercurii chelys, cicuta 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 Fauni, dulce melos canunt. Erota, 
 En, olim* docuit, plagas Eroti 
 Jam tendit, Juvenis, Poeta, Pastor, 
 Isthaec prospiciens tibi, Cupido, 
 Audax admonui. Fave, Cupido. 
 
 * Amor a 
 Pastore omne 
 genus Mu- 
 sices olim 
 edoctus. 
 Bion Idyll. 3. 
 
 By the Same. 
 
 So much a stranger my severer Muse 
 Is not to love-strains, or a shepward's a reed, 
 But that she knows some rites of Phoebus' dues, 
 Of Pan, of Pallas, and her Sisters' meed. 
 Read and commend she durst these tun'd essays 
 Of him that loves her. (She hath ever found 
 Her studies as one circle. ) Next she prays 
 His readers be with rose and myrtle crown'd ! 
 No willow touch them ! As his bays* are free 
 From wrong of bolts, so may their chaplets be. 
 
 J. Selden, Juris C. 
 
 To his Friend the Author. 
 
 Drive forth thy flock, young pastor, to that plain 
 Where our old shepherds wont their flocks to feed ; 
 To those clear walks where many a skilful swain 
 To'ards the calm ev'ning tun'd his pleasant reed. 
 
 » Shepward, shepherd. 
 
 * Bays (fair 
 Readers) be- 
 ing the mate- 
 rials of Poets' 
 Garlands (as 
 myrtle and 
 roses are for 
 enjoying lov- 
 ers, and the 
 fruitless wil- 
 low for them 
 which your 
 inconstancy 
 too oft makes 
 most un- 
 happy) are 
 supposed not 
 subject to 
 any hurt of 
 Jupiter's 
 thunderbolts, 
 as other trees 
 are. 
 
io COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 Those, to the Muses once so sacred, downs, 
 As no rude foot might there presume to stand : 
 (Now made the way of the unworthiest clowns, 
 Digg'd and plough'd up with each unhallowed hand) 
 If possible thou canst redeem those places, 
 Where, by the brim of many a silver spring, 
 The learned maidens and delightful graces 
 Often have sat to hear our shepherds sing : 
 Where on those pines, the neighb'ring groves among 
 (Now utterly neglected in these days), 
 Our garlands, pipes, and cornamutes a were hung, 
 'The monuments of our deserved praise. 
 So may thy sheep like, b so thy lambs increase, 
 And from the wolf feed ever safe and free ! 
 So may'st thou thrive, among the learned prease, c 
 As thou young shepherd art belov'd of me ! 
 
 Michael Drayton. 
 
 To his ingenious and worthy Friend the Author. 
 
 He that will tune his oaten-pipe aright 
 To great Apollo's harp ; he that will write 
 A living poem, must have many years, 
 And settled judgment 'mongst his equal peers, 
 
 a Cornamutes, rustic instruments blown like the bagpipe. 
 
 b Like, thrive. 
 
 c Precise, press or crowd. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. u 
 
 In well-rigg'd bark to steer his doubtful course ; 
 
 Lest secret, rocky envy, or the source 
 
 Of frothy, but sky-tow'ring arrogance, 
 
 Or fleeting, sandy vulgar- censure chance 
 
 To leave him shipwreck'd on the desert main, 
 
 Imploring aged Neptune's help in vain. 
 
 The younger cygnet, even at best, doth tear 
 
 With his harsh squealings the melodious ear : 
 
 It is the old and dying swan that sings 
 
 Notes worthy life, worthy the Thespian springs. 
 
 But thou art young ; and yet thy voice as sweet, 
 
 Thy verse as smooth, composure as discreet 
 
 As any swan's whose tuneful notes are spent 
 
 On Thames his banks ; which makes me confident, 
 
 He knows no music, hath nor ears, nor tongue, 
 
 That not commends a voice so sweet, so young. 
 
 On him ; a Pastoral Ode to his fairest Shepherdess. 
 
 Syren more than earthly fair, 
 Sweetly break the yielding air ; 
 Sing on Albion's whitest rocks ; 
 Sing ; whilst Willy to his flocks 
 Deftly tunes his various reed. 
 Sing ; and he, whilst younglings feed, 
 Answer shall thy best of singing, 
 W T ith his rural music bringing 
 
12 COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 Equal pleasure ; and requite 
 Music's sweets with like delight. 
 What though Willy's songs be plain ? 
 Sweet they be : for he's a swain 
 Made of purer mould than earth. 
 Him did Nature from his birth, 
 And the Muses single out, 
 For a second Colin Clout. a 
 Tityrus b made him a singer : 
 Pan him taught his pipe to finger : 
 Numbers, curious ears to please, 
 Learn'd he of Philisides. 0 
 Kala d loves him : and the lasses 
 Point at him as by he passes, 
 Wishing never tongue that's bad 
 Censure may so blithe a lad. 
 Therefore well can he requite 
 Music's sweets with like delight : 
 Sing then, break the yielding air 
 Syren more than earthly fair. 
 
 Edward Heyward, 
 
 e So. Int. Tempi. 
 
 a Colin Clout is the pastoral name which Spenser adopted 
 for himself. 
 b Tifyrus, Virgil. 
 
 c Philisides, one of the poetical names of Sir Philip Sidney, 
 invented by himself, and evidently formed from portions of the 
 two names, Philip and Sidney. 
 
 d Kala, a shepherdess in Sidney's Arcadia. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 13 
 
 To his Friend the Author upon his Poem. 
 
 This plant is knotless that puts forth these leaves, 
 
 Upon whose branches I his praise do sing : 
 
 Fruitful the ground, whose verdure it receives 
 
 From fertile Nature, and the learned Spring. 
 
 In zeal to good known, but unpractis'd ill, 
 
 Chaste in his thoughts, though in his youthful prime, 
 
 He writes of past'ral love with nectar'd quill, 
 
 And offers up his first fruits unto Time. 
 
 Receive them (Time) and in thy border place them 
 
 Among thy various flowers of poesy ; 
 
 No envy blast, nor ignorance deface them, 
 
 But keep them fresh in fairest memory ! 
 
 And, when from Daphne's tree he plucks more bays, 
 His Shepherd's Pipe may chant more heav'nly lays. 
 
 Christopher Brooke. 
 
 ANA GRAMMA, 
 
 Guilielmus Browne. Ne vulgo Librum ejus. 
 
 Si vulgus gustare tuo velis apta palato ; 
 
 I, pete vulgares, ac aliunde, dapes. 
 
 Nil vulgare sapit liber hie ; hinc vulgus abesto : 
 
 Non nisi delicias hcec tibi mensa dabit. 
 
 Fr : Dynne, 
 
 e So. Int. Tempi. 
 
14 COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 To his Friend the Author, 
 
 On (jolly lad) and hie thee to the field 
 Among the best swains that the valleys yield ; 
 Go boldly, and in presence of them all, 
 Proceed a shepherd with this Pastoral. 
 Let Pan, and all his rural train attending, 
 From stately mountains to the plains descending, 
 Salute this Pastor with their kind embraces, 
 And entertain him to their holy places. 
 Let all the nymphs of hills and dales together 
 Kiss him for earnest of his welcome thither : 
 Crown him with garlands of the choicest flowers, 
 And make him ever dwell within their bowers : 
 For well I wot in all the plains around, 
 There are but few such shepherds to be found, 
 That can such learned lays and ditties frame, 
 Or aptly fit their tunes unto the same. 
 And let them all (if this young swain should die) 
 Tune all their reeds to sing his memory. 
 
 Tho. Gardiner, 
 
 e So. Int. Tempi. 
 
 To the Author. 
 
 Had I beheld thy Muse upon the stage, 
 A poesy in fashion with this age ; 
 Or had I seen, when first I view'd thy task, 
 An active wit dance in a satyr's mask, 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 15 
 
 I should in those have prais'd thy wit and art, 
 But not thy ground, a poem's better part : 
 Which being the perfect'st image of the brain, 
 Not fram'd to any base end, but to gain 
 True approbation of the artist's worth, 
 When to an open view he sets it forth, 
 Judiciously he strives no less t'adorn 
 By a choice subject than a curious form : 
 Well hast thou then pass'd o'er all other rhyme, 
 And in a Pastoral spent thy leisure's time : 
 Where fruit so fair, and field so fruitful is, 
 That hard it is to judge whether in this 
 The substance or the fashion more excel, 
 So precious is the gem, and wrought so well. 
 Thus rest thou prais'd of me, fruit, field, gem, art, 
 Do claim much praise to equal such desert. 
 
 W. Ferrar, 
 
 e So. Med. Tempi. 
 
 To the Author. 
 
 Friend, I'll not err in blazing of thy worth ; 
 This work in truest terms will set it forth : 
 In these few lines the all I do intend, 
 Is but to show that I have such a friend. 
 
 Fr : Oulde, 
 
 h S. In. Tempi. 
 
BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 THE FIRST SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 Marina's love, yclep'd* the fair, 
 Celand's disdain, and her despair. 
 Are the first wings my Muse puts on 
 To reach the sacred Helicon. 
 
 I that whilerc near Tavy's* straggling spring 
 Unto my seely sheep did use to sing, 
 And play'd to please myself on rustic reed, 
 Nor sought for bay (the learned shepherd's meed), 
 
 Ychped, called. 
 
 -Sce!y, simple. 
 
 * Tavy is a 
 river, having 
 his head in 
 Dartmoor in 
 Devon, some 
 few miles 
 from Mary 
 Tavy, and 
 falls south- 
 ward into 
 
 Tamar : out of the same moor riseth, running northward, another, called 
 Tau : which by the way the rather I speak of, because in the printed Malmes- 
 bury degest. Pontific. lib. 2, fol. 146, you read, "'Est in Pomnonia caenobium 
 monachorum juxta Tau fluvium, quod Tavistok vocatur :" whereas upon Tau 
 stands (near the north side of the shire) Tawstock, being no remnants of a 
 monastery : so that you must there read, "JuxtaTaui Fluvium," as in a man- 
 uscript copy of Malmesbury (the form of the hand assuring Malmesbury's 
 time) belonging to the Abbey of S. Augustine in Canterbury I have seen, in 
 the hands of my very learned friend M. Selden. 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
1 8 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 But as a swain unkent fed on the plains, 5 
 
 And made the Echo umpire of my strains : 
 
 Am drawn by time (although the weak'st of many) 
 
 To sing those lays as yet unsung of any. 
 
 What need I tune the swains of Thessaly ? 
 
 Or, bootless, add to them of Arcadie ? 10 
 
 No, fair Arcadia cannot be completer ; 
 
 My praise may lessen, but not make thee greater. 
 
 My Muse for lofty pitches shall not roam, 
 
 But homely pipen of her native home ; 
 
 And to the swains, love rural minstrelsy ; 15 
 
 Thus, dear Britannia, will I sing of thee. 
 
 High on the plains of that renowned isle, 
 Which all men Beauty's garden-plot enstyle, 
 A shepherd dwelt, whom Fortune had made rich 
 With all the gifts that silly men bewitch. 20 
 Near him a shepherdess for beauty's store 
 Unparailel'd of any age before. 
 Within those breasts her face a flame did move, 
 W 7 hich never knew before what 'twas to love, [25 
 Dazzling each shepherd's sight that view'd her eye.s : 
 And as the Persians did idolatrize 
 Unto the sun : they thought that Cynthia's light 
 Might well be spar'd where she appear'd in night. 
 And as when many to the goal do run, 
 The prize is given never but to one : 30 
 So first , and only Celandine was led, 
 
 5. — Unkent, unknown, for unkenned. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 19 
 
 Of Destiny's and Heaven much favoured, 
 
 To gain this beauty, which I here do offer 
 
 To memory : his pains (who would not proffer [35 
 
 Pains for such pleasures?) were not great nor much, 
 
 But that his labour's recompense was such 
 
 As countervailed all : for she, whose passion, 
 
 (And passion oft is love,) whose inclination 
 
 Bent all her course to him-wards, let him know 
 
 I le was the elm whereby her vine did grow : 40 
 
 Yea, told him, when his tongue began this task, 
 
 She knew not to deny when he would ask. 
 
 Finding his suit as quickly got as mov'd, 
 
 Celandine, in his thoughts not well approv'd 
 
 What none could disallow, his love grew feign'd, 45 
 
 And what he once affected now disdain'd. 
 
 But fair Marina (for so was she call'd) 
 
 Having in Celandine her love install'd, 
 
 Affected so this faithless shepherd's boy, 
 
 Tha. she was rapt beyond degree of joy. 50 
 
 Briefly, she could not live one hour without him. 
 
 And thought no joy like theirs that liv'd about him. 
 
 This variable shepherd for a while 
 Did Nature's jewel by his craft beguile : 
 And still the perfecter her love did grow, 55 
 His did appear more counterfeit in show. 
 Which she perceiving that his flame did slake, 
 And lov'd her only for his trophy's sake : 
 " For he that's stuffed with a faithless tumour, 
 Loves only for his lust and for his humour : " 60 
 
 c 2 
 
20 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 And that he often in his merry fit 
 
 Would say, his good came ere he hop'd for it : 
 
 His thoughts for other subjects being press'd, 
 
 Esteeming that as nought which he possess'd : 
 
 "For what is gotten but with little pain, &5 
 
 As little grief we take to lose again." 
 
 Well-minded Marine grieving, thought it strange 
 
 That her ingrateful swain did seek for change. 
 
 Still by degrees her cares grew to the full, 
 
 Joys to the wane, heartrending grief did pull 70 
 
 Her from herself, and she abandon'd all 
 
 To cries and tears, fruits of a funeral ; 
 
 Running the mountains, fields, by wat'ry springs, 
 
 Filling each cave with woful echoings ; 
 
 Making in thousand places her complaint, 75 
 
 And uttering to the trees what her tears meant. 
 
 " For griefs conceaFd (proceeding from desire) 
 
 Consume the more, as doth a close-pent fire." 
 
 Whilst that the day's sole eye doth gild the seas 
 
 In his day's journey to th' Antipodes, 80 
 
 And all the time the jetty-charioteer 
 
 Hurls her black mantle through our hemisphere, 
 
 Under the covert of a sprouting pine 
 
 She sits and grieves for faithless Celandine. 
 
 Beginning thus : Alas ! and must it be 85 
 
 That- Love which thus torments and troubles me 
 
 In settling it, so small advice hath lent 
 
 To make me captive, where enfranchisement 
 
 Cannot be gotten ? nor where, like a slave, 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 21 
 
 The office due to faithful prisoners, have ? 90 
 
 Oh cruel Celandine, why shouldst thou hate 
 
 Her, who to love thee, was ordain'd by Fate ! 
 
 Should I not follow thee, and sacrifice 
 
 My wretched life to thy betraying eyes ? 
 
 Aye me ! of all my most unhappy lot ; 95 
 
 What others would, thou may'st, and yet wilt not. 
 
 Have I rejected those that me ador'd, 
 
 To be of him, whom I adore, abhorr'd ? 
 
 And pass'd by others' tears, to make election 
 
 Of one, that should so pass-by my affection ? 100 
 
 1 have : and see the heav'nly powers intend 
 
 " To punish sinners in what they offend." 
 
 Maybe he takes delight to see in me 
 
 The burning rage of hellish jealousy ; 
 
 Tries if in fury any love appears ; 105 
 
 And bathes his joy within my flood of tears. 
 
 But if he lov'd to soil my spotless soul, 
 
 And me amongst deceived maids enrol, 
 
 To publish to the world my open shame : [110 
 
 Then, heart, take freedom ; hence, accursed flame ; 
 
 And, as queen-regent, in my heart shall move 
 
 "Disdain, that only over-ruleth Love :" 
 
 By this infranchis'd sure my thoughts shall be, 
 
 And in the same sort love, as thou lov ? st me. 
 
 But what? or can I cancel or unbind 115 
 
 That which my heart hath seal'd and love hath sign'd? 
 
 No, no, grief doth deceive me more each hour ; 
 
 44 For, who so truly loves, hath not that power." 
 
22 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 I wrong to say so since of all 'tis known, 
 
 " Who yields to love doth leave to be her own." 120 
 
 But what avails my living thus apart ? 
 
 Can I forget him? or out of my heart 
 
 Can tears expulse his image ? surely no. 
 
 " We well may fly the place, but not the woe : 
 
 Love's fire is of a nature which by turns 125 
 
 Consumes in presence, and in absence burns." 
 
 And knowing this : aye me ! unhappy wight ! 
 
 What means is left to help me in this plight ? 
 
 And from that peevish shooting, hood-wink'd elf, 
 
 To repossess my love, my heart, myself? 130 
 
 Only this help I find, which I elect : 
 
 Since what my life nor can nor will effect, 
 
 My ruin shall : and by it, I shall find, 
 
 " Death cures (when all helps fail) the grieved mind." 
 
 And welcome here (than Love a better guest), 135 
 
 That of all labours art the only rest : 
 
 Whilst thus I live, all things discomfort give, 
 
 The life is sure a death wherein I live : 
 
 Save life and death do differ in this one, 
 
 That life hath ever cares, and death hath none. 1 40 
 
 But if that he (disdainful swain) should know 
 
 That for his love I wrought my overthrow ; 
 
 Will he not glory in't ? and from my death 
 
 Draw more delights, and give new joys their breath ? 
 
 Admit he do, yet better 'tis that I 145 
 
 120. — Leave, cease. 123. — Exjftthe^ expel. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 23 
 
 Render myself to Death than misery. 
 
 I cannot live, thus barred from his sight, 
 
 Nor yet endure, in presence, any wight 
 
 Should love him but myself. O Reason's eye, 
 
 How art thou blinded with vild jealousy ! 1 50 
 
 And is it thus ? Then which shall have my blood, 
 
 Or certain ruin, or uncertain good? 
 
 Why do I doubt ? Are we not still advis'd 
 
 "That certainty in all things best is priz'd?" 
 
 Then, if a certain end can help my moan, 155 
 
 " Know Death hath certainty, but Life hath none." 
 
 Here is a mount, whose top seems to despise 
 The far inferior vale that under lies : 
 Who like a great man rais'd aloft by fate, 
 Measures his height by others' mean estate : 160 
 Near to whose foot there glides a silver flood. 
 Falling from hence, I'll climb unto my good, 
 And by it finish Love and Reason's strife, 
 And end my misery as well as life. 
 But as a coward's heartener in war, 165 
 The stirring drum, keeps lesser noise from far : 
 So seem the murmuring waves tell in mine ear 
 That guiltless blood was never spilled there. 
 Then stay a while ; the beasts that haunt those springs^ 
 Of whom I hear the fearful bellowings, 170 
 May do that deed (as moved by my cry), 
 Whereby my soul, as spotless ivory, 
 
 150. — Vild, vile. 165. — Heartener, an encouragsr. 
 
24 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i„ 
 
 May turn from whence it came, and, freed from hence. 
 
 Be unpolluted of that foul offence. 
 
 But why protract I time ? death is no stranger : 175 
 
 44 And generous spirits never fear for danger : 
 
 Death is a thing most natural to us, 
 
 And fear doth only make it odious. 99 
 
 As when to seek her food abroad doth rove 
 
 The Nuncius of peace, the seely dove, 180 
 
 Two sharp-set hawks do her on each side hem, 
 
 And she knows not which way to fly from them : 
 
 Or like a ship, that tossed to and fro 
 
 "With wind and tide ; the wind doth sternly blow, 
 
 And drives her to the main, the tide comes sore 185 
 
 And hurls her back again towards the shore ; 
 
 And since her ballast and her sails do lack, 
 
 One brings her out, the other beats her back ; 
 
 Till one of them increasing more his shocks, 
 
 Hurls her to shore, and rends her on the rocks : 190 
 
 So stood she long, y twixt love and reason toss'd, 
 
 Until despair (who where it comes rules most) 
 
 Won her to throw herself, to meet with death, 
 
 From off the rock into the flood beneath. 
 
 The waves that were above when as she fell, 195 
 
 For fear flew back again into their well, 
 
 Doubting ensuing times on them would frown, 
 
 That they so rare a beauty help'd to drown. 
 
 Her fall, in grief, did make the stream so roar, 
 
 1S0.— Nuncius, messenger, \Zo»—Seely> simple. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 25 
 
 That sullen murmur ings fill'd all the shore. 200 
 
 A shepherd (near this flood that fed his sheep, 
 Who at this chance left grazing and did weep) 
 Having so sad an object for his eyes, 
 Left pipe and flock, and in the water flies, 
 To save a jewel, which was never sent 205 
 To be possess'd by one sole element : 
 But such a work Nature dispos'd and gave, 
 Where all the elements concordance have. 
 He took her in his arms, for pity cried, 
 And brought her to the river's further side : 210 
 Yea, and he sought by all his art and pain, 
 To bring her likewise to herself again : 
 While she that by her fall was senseless left, 
 And almost in the waves had life bereft, 
 J. ay long, as if her sweet immortal spirit 215 
 W r as fled some other palace to inherit. 
 
 But as clear Phoebus, when some foggy cloud 
 His brightness from the world a while doth shroud, 
 Dotn by degrees begin to show his light 
 Unto the view : or, as the queen of night, 220 
 In her increasing horns, doth rounder grow, 
 Till full and perfect she appear in show : 
 Such order in this maid the shepherd spies, 
 When she began to show the world her eyes. [225 
 Who (thinking now that she had pass'd death's dream, 
 Gccasion'd by her fall into the stream, 
 
 202. — Chance , mishap. 
 
26 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book *. 
 
 And that hell's ferryman did then deliver 
 
 Her to the other side th' infernal river) 
 
 Said to the swain : O Charon, I am bound 
 
 More to thy kindness than all else that round 230 
 
 Come thronging to thy boat : thou hast pass'd over 
 
 The woful'st maid that e'er these shades did cover, 
 
 But, prithee, ferryman, direct my spright 
 
 Where that black river runs that Lethe hight, 
 
 That I of it (as other ghosts) may drink, 235 
 
 And never of the world, or love, more think. 
 
 The swain perceiving by her words ill sorted, 
 
 That she was wholly from herself transported, 
 
 And fearing lest those often idle fits 
 
 Might clean expel her uncollected wits : 240 
 
 Fair nymph (said he), the powers above deny 
 
 So fair a beauty should so quickly die. 
 
 The heavens unto the world have made a loan, 
 
 And must for you have interest, three for one. [245 
 
 Call back your thoughts o'ercast with dolour's night ; 
 
 Do you not see the day, the heavens, the light ? 
 
 Do you not know in Pluto's darksome place 
 
 The light of heaven did never show his face ? 
 
 Do not your pulses beat ? y'are warm, have breath, 
 
 Your sense is rapt with fear, but not with death. 250 
 
 I am not Charon, nor of Pluto's host ; 
 
 Nor is there flesh and blood found in a ghost ; 
 
 But as you see, a seely shepherd's swain, 
 
 234. — Hight, called. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 27 
 
 Who though my mere revenues be the train 
 
 Of milk-white sheep, yet am I joy'd as much 255 
 
 In saving you (0, who would not save such?), 
 
 As ever was the wand' ring youth of Greece, 
 
 That brought from Colchos home the golden fleece. 
 
 The never-too-much-praised fair Marine, 
 Hearing those words, believ'd her ears and eyne : 260 
 And knew how she escaped had the flood 
 By means of this young swain that near her stood. 
 Whereat for grief she 'gan again to faint, 
 Redoubling thus her cries and sad complaint : 
 Alas ! and is that likewise barr'd from me, 265 
 Which for all persons else lies ever free ? 
 Will life, nor death, nor ought abridge my pain ? 
 But live still dying, die to live again ? 
 Then most unhappy I ! which find most sure, 
 The wound of love neglected is past cure. 270 
 Met cruel god of love (if such there be), 
 That still to my desires art contrary ! 
 Why should I not in reason this obtain, 
 That as I love, 1 may be lov'd again ? 
 Alas ! with, thee too, Nature plays her parts, 275 
 That fram'd so great a discord 'tween two hearts : 
 One flies, and always doth in hate persever ; 
 The other follows, and in love grows ever. - 
 Why dost thou not extinguish clean this flame, 
 And place't on him that best deserves the same ? 280 
 Why had not I affected some kind youth, 
 Whose every word had been the word of truth ? 
 
2S BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Who might have had to love, and lov'd to have, 
 
 So true a heart as I to Celand gave. 
 
 For Psyche's love ! if beauty gave thee birth, 28$ 
 
 Or if thou hast attractive power on earth, 
 
 Dame Venus' sweetest child, requite this love. 
 
 Or fate yield means my soul may hence remove ! 
 
 Once seeing in a spring her drowned eyes, 
 
 O cruel beauty, cause of this (she cries), 290 
 
 Mother of Love (my joy's most fatal knife), 
 
 That work'st her death, by whom thyself hast life ! 
 
 The youthful swain that heard this loving saint 
 So oftentimes to pour forth such complaint, 
 Within his heart such true affection prais'd, 295 
 And did perceive kind love and pity rais'd 
 His mind to sighs ; yea, beauty forced this, 
 That all her grief he thought was likewise his. 
 And having brought her what his lodge affords, 
 Sometime he wept with her, sometime with words 300 
 Would seek to comfort ; when, alas ! poor elf, 
 He needed then a comforter himself. 
 Daily whole troops of grief unto him came 
 For her who languish'd of another flame. 
 If that she sigh'd, he thought him lov'd of her, 305 
 When 'twas another sail her wind did stir : 
 But had her sighs and tears been for this boy, 
 Her sorrow had been less, and more her joy. 
 Long time in grief he hid his love-made pains, 
 And did attend her walks in woods and plains : 310 
 Bearing a fuel, which her sun -like eyes 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 29 
 
 Enflam'd, and made his heart the sacrifice : 
 
 Yet he, sad swain, to show it did not dare ; 
 
 And she, lest he should love, nigh died for fear. 
 
 She, ever-wailing, blam'd the powers above, 315 
 
 That night nor day give any rest to love. 
 
 He prais'd the heavens in silence, oft was mute, 
 
 And thought with tears and sighs to win his suit. 
 
 Once in the shade, when she by sleep repos'd, 
 And her clear eyes 'twixt her fair lids enclosed, 320 
 The shepherd swain began to hate and curse 
 That day unfortunate, which was the nurse 
 Of all his sorrows. He had given breath 
 And life to her which was his cause of death. 
 O /Esop's snake, that thirstest for his blood, 325 
 From whom thyself receiv'd'st a certain good. 
 Thus oftentimes unto himself alone 
 Would he recount his grief, utter his moan ; 
 And after much debating, did resolve 
 Rather his grandame Earth should clean involve 330 
 liis pining body, ere he would make known 
 To her, -what tares love in his breast had sown. 
 Yea, he would say when grief for speech hath 
 cried, 
 
 11 Tis better never ask than be denied." 
 
 But as the queen of rivers, fairest Thames, 335 
 That for her buildings other floods enflames 
 With greatest envy ; or the Nymph of Kent, 
 
 337. -Nymph of Kent, the River Medway. 
 
30 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 That stateliest ships to sea hath ever sent ; 
 
 Some baser groom, for lucre's hellish course, 
 
 Her channel having stopp'd, kept back her source, 340 
 
 (Fill'd with disdain) doth swell above her mounds, 
 
 And overfloweth all the neighb'ring grounds, 
 
 Angry she tears up all that stops her way, 
 
 And with more violence runs to the sea : 
 
 So the kind shepherd's grief (which long up-pent 345 
 
 Grew more in power, and longer in extent) 
 
 Forth of his heart more violently thrust, 
 
 And all his vow'd intentions quickly burst. 
 
 Marina, hearing sighs, to him drew near, 
 
 And did entreat his cause of grief to hear ; 350 
 
 But had she known her beauty was the sting 
 
 That caused all that instant sorrowing, 
 
 Silence in bands her tongue had stronger kept, 
 
 And sh'ad not ask'd for what the shepherd wept. 
 
 The swain first, of all times, this best did think 355 
 To show his love, whilst on the river's brink 
 They sat alone, then thought, he next would move 
 her 
 
 With sighs and tears (true tokens of a lover) ; 
 And since she knew what help from him she found 
 When in the river she had else been drown'd, 360 
 He thinketh sure she cannot but grant this, 
 To give relief to him by whom she is ; 
 By this incited, said : Whom I adore, 
 
 339.— G 'roam, fellow. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 3i 
 
 Sole mistress of my heart, I thee implore, 
 
 Do not in bondage hold my freedom long. 365 
 
 And since I life or death hold from your tongue, 
 
 Suffer my heart to love ; yea, dare to hope 
 
 To get that good of love's intended scope. 
 
 Grant I may praise that light in you I see, 
 
 And dying to myself, may live in thee. 370 
 
 Fair nymph, surcease this death-alluring languish, 
 
 So rare a beauty was not born for anguish. 
 
 Why shouldst thou care for him that cares not for thee ? 
 
 Yea, most unworthy wight, seems to abhor thee. 
 
 And if he be as you do here paint forth him, 375 
 
 He thinks you, best of beauties, are not worth him ; 
 
 That all the joys of love will not quite cost 
 
 For all lov'd freedom which by it is lost. 
 
 Within his heart such self-opinion dwells, 
 
 That his conceit in this he thinks excels ; 380 
 
 Accounting women's beauties sugar'd baits, 
 
 That 7iever catch but fools with their deceits. 
 
 " Who of himself harbours so vain a thought, 
 
 Truly to love could never yet be brought." 
 
 Then love that heart where lies no faithless seed, 385 
 
 That never wore dissimulation's weed : 
 
 Who doth account all beauties of the spring, 
 
 That jocund summer days are ushering, 
 
 As foils to yours. But if this cannot move 
 
 Your mind to pity, nor your heart to love, 390 
 
 371. — Surcease, cease. 
 
32 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Yet, sweetest, grant me love to quench that flame, 
 
 Which burns you now. Expel his worthless name, 
 
 Clean root him out by me, and in his place 
 
 Let him inhabit that will run a race 
 
 More true in love. It may be for your rest. 395 
 
 And when he sees her, who did love him best, 
 
 Possessed by another, he will rate 
 
 The much of good he lost, when 'tis too late : 
 
 " For what is in our powers we little deem, 
 
 And things possess'd by others best esteem." 400 
 
 If all this gain you not a shepherd's wife, 
 
 Yet give not death to him which gave you life. 
 
 Marine the fair, hearing his wooing tale, 
 Perceived well what wall his thoughts did scale ; 
 And answer'd thus : I pray, Sir Swain, what boot 405 
 Is it to me to pluck up by the root 
 My former love, and in his place to sow 
 As ill a seed, for anything I know ? 
 Rather 'gainst thee I mortal hate retain, 
 That seek'st to plant in me new cares, new pain. 410 
 Alas ! th'hast kept my soul from death's sweet bands 
 To give me over to a tyrant's hands, 
 Who on his racks will torture by his power 
 This weakened, harmless body, every hour. 
 Be you the judge, and see if reason's laws 415 
 Give recompense of favour for this cause. 
 You from the streams of death brought life 011 shore 
 Releas'd one pain to give me ten times more. 
 For love's sake, let my thoughts in this be free ; 
 
Song i ] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 33 
 
 Object no more your hapless saving me : 420 
 That obligation which you think should bind, 
 Doth still increase more hatred in my mind. 
 Yea, I do think more thanks to him were due 
 That would bereave my life than unto you. 
 
 The thunder-stricken swain lean'd to a tree, 425 
 As void of sense as weeping Niobe ; 
 Making his tears the instruments to woo her, 
 The sea wherein his love should swim unto her : 
 And, could there flow from his two-headed font, 
 As great a flood as is the Hellespont, 430 
 Within that deep he would as willing wander 
 To meet his Hero, as did e'er Leander. 
 Meanwhile the nymph withdrew herself aside, 
 And to a grove at hand her steps applied. 
 
 , With that sad sigh (O ! had he never seen, 435 
 His heart in better case had ever been) 
 Against his heart, against the stream he went, 
 With this resolve, and with a full intent, 
 When of that stream he had discovered 
 The fount, the well-spring, or the bubbling head, 440 
 He there would sit, and with the well-drop vie, 
 That it before his eyes would first run dry. 
 Kut then he thought the god* that haunts that lake, 
 The spoiling of his spring would not well take ; 
 
 And therefore leaving soon the crystal flood, 
 1 Hd take his way unto the nearest wood : 
 
 445 
 
 420. — Object, urge. 
 
 *Dcae sane, 
 i. Nympha;, 
 plerumque 
 fontibus & 
 fluviis pne- 
 sunt apud 
 poetas, quae, 
 Ephydriades, 
 & Naiades 
 dictae : ve- 
 rum & nobis 
 tamen deum 
 praeficere (sic 
 Alpheum Ty- 
 berinum, & 
 Rhenum, & 
 id genus alios 
 divos legi- 
 mus) haud 
 illicitum. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
34 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Seating himself within a darksome cave, 
 (Such places heavy Saturnists do crave,) 
 Where yet the gladsome day was never seen, 
 Nor Phoebus' piercing beams had ever been, 450 
 Fit for the synod house of those fell legions, 
 That walk the mountains and Silvanus* regions ; 
 Where Tragedy might have her full scope given, 
 From menf's] aspects, and from the view of heaven. 
 Within the same some crannies did deliver 455 
 Into the midst thereof a pretty river ; 
 The nymph whereof came by out of the veins 
 Of our first mother, having late ta'en pains 
 In scouring of her channel all the way, 
 From where it first began to leave the sea : 460 
 And in her labour thus far now had gone, 
 When coming through the cave, she heard that one 
 vSpake thus : If I do in my death perse ver, 
 Pity may that effect which love could never. 
 By this she can conjecture 'twas some swain, 465 
 Who overladen by a maid's disdain, 
 Had here (as fittest) chosen out a place 
 Where he might give a period to the race 
 1 Of his loath'd life : which she (for pity's sake) 
 
 Minding to hinder, div'd into her lake, 470 
 And hasten'd where the ever-teeming Earth 
 Unto her current gives a wished birth ; 
 And by her new-deliver'd river's side, 
 
 448.— Saturnists, persons supposed to be under the influence 
 of the planet Saturn, which tended to make men morose. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 35 
 
 Upon a bank of flow'rs, had soon espied [475 
 Remond, young Remond, that full well could sing, 
 And tune his pipe at Pan's birth carolling ; 
 Who for his nimble leaping, sweetest lays, 
 A laurel garland wore on holy-days ; 
 In framing of whose hand Dame Nature swore 
 There never was his like, nor should be more ; 4S0 
 Whose locks (ensnaring nets) were like the rays 
 Wherewith the sun doth diaper the seas, 
 Which, if they had been cut and hung upon 
 The snow-white cliffs of fertile Albion, 
 W r ould have allured more to be their winner, 485 
 Than all the diamonds* that are hidden in her. 
 Him she accosted thus : Swain of the Wreath, 
 Thou art not placed only here to breathe ; 
 But Nature in thy framing shows to me 
 Thou shouldst to others as she did to thee, 490 
 Do good; and surely I myself persuade, 
 Thou never wert for evil action made. 
 In heaven's consistory 'twas decreed 
 That choicest fruit should come from choicest seed ; 
 In baser vessels we do ever put 495 
 Basest materials, do never shut 
 Those jewels most in estimation set, 
 But in some curious costly cabinet. 
 If I may judge by th' outward shape alone, 
 
 * Julium 
 Caesarem, spe 
 Margari- 
 tarum Britan- 
 niam petisse, 
 scribit Sue- 
 ton, in Jul. 
 cap. 47. 
 & ex iis 
 Thoracem 
 factum 
 Veneri gene- 
 trici dicasse. 
 Plin. Hist. 
 Nat. 9, ca. 
 35. De Mar- 
 garitis vero 
 nostris con- 
 sulas Cam- 
 den, in Cor- 
 nub. & 
 Somerset. 
 
 482. — Dialer \ variegate. 
 493.— Consistory, an ecclesiastical court ; 
 assembly. 
 
 hence, a solemn 
 D 2 
 
36 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book -i. 
 
 Within, all virtues have convention : 500 
 
 " For 't gives most lustre unto Virtue's feature, 
 
 When she appears cloth'd in a goodly creature/' 
 
 Half way the hill, near to those aged trees, 
 
 Whose insides are as hives for lab'ring bees, 
 
 (As who should say, before their roots were dead, 505. 
 
 For good work's sake and alms they harboured 
 
 Those whom nought else did cover but the skies :) 
 
 A path, untrodden but of beasts, there lies, 
 
 Directing to a cave in yonder glade, 
 
 Where all this forest's citizens for shade 510 
 
 At noon-time come, and are the first, I think, 
 
 That (running through that cave) my waters drink : 
 
 Within this rock there sits a woful wight, 
 
 As void of comfort as that cave of light ; 
 
 And as I wot, occasion' d by the frowns 515 
 
 Of some coy shepherdess that haunts these downs. 
 
 This I do know (whos'ever wrought his care) 
 
 He is a man nigh treading to despair. 
 
 Then hie thee thither, since 'tis charity 
 
 To save a man ; leave here thy flock with me : 520 
 
 For whilst thou sav'st him from the Stygian bay, 
 
 I'll keep thy lambkins from all beasts of prey. 
 
 The nearness of the danger (in his thought) 
 
 As it doth ever, more compassion wrought : 
 
 So that, with reverence to the nymph, he went 525 
 
 With winged speed, and hasten'd to prevent 
 
 Th' untimely seizure of the greedy grave. 
 
 Breathless, at last, he came into the cave, 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 37 
 
 Where, by a sigh directed to the man, 
 To comfort him he in this sort began : 530 
 Shepherd, all hail ! what mean these plaints ? this 
 cave 
 
 (Th' image of death, true portrait of the grave) 
 
 Why dost frequent ? and wail thee underground 
 
 From whence there never yet was pity found ? 
 
 Come forth, and show thyself unto the light, 535 
 
 Thy grief to me. If there be ought that might 
 
 Give any ease unto thy troubled mind, 
 
 We joy as much to give, as thou to find. 
 
 The love-sick swain replied : Remond, thou art 
 
 The man alone to whom I would impart 540 
 
 My woes more willing than to any swain, 
 
 That lives and feeds his sheep upon the plain. 
 
 But vain it is, and 'twould increase my woes 
 
 By their relation, or to thee or those 
 
 That cannot remedy. Let it suffice, 545 
 
 No fond distrust of thee makes me precise 
 
 To show my grief. Leave me then, and forego 
 
 This cave more sad since I have made it so. 
 
 Here tears broke forth, and Remond 'gan anew 
 
 With such entreaties, earnest to pursue 550 
 
 His former suit, that he (though hardly) wan 
 
 The shepherd to disclose, and thus began : 
 
 Know briefly, Remond, then, a heavenly face, 
 
 ^Nature's idea, and perfection's grace, 
 
 Within my breast hath kindled such a fire, 555 
 
 That doth consume all things, except desire ; 
 
38 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Which daily doth increase, though always burning, 
 And I want tears, but lack no cause of mourning. 
 * ' For he whom love under his colours draws, 
 May often want th' effect, but ne'er the cause." 560 
 Quoth th' other, have thy stars malign been such, 
 That their predominations sway so much 
 Over the rest, that with a mild aspect 
 The lives and loves of shepherds do affect ? 
 Then do I think there is some greater hand, 565 
 Which thy endeavours still doth countermand : 
 Wherefore I wish thee quench the flame, thus mov'd, 
 i( And never love except thou be belov'd. 
 For such an humour every woman seizeth, [570 
 She loves not him that plaineth, but that pleaseth. 
 When much thou lovest, most disdain comes on 
 thee ; 
 
 And when thou think'st to hold her, she flies from 
 thee : 
 
 She follow 'd, flies ; she fled from follows post, 
 
 And loveth best where she is hated most. 
 
 'Tis ever noted both in maids and wives, 575 
 
 Their hearts and tongues are never relatives. 
 
 Hearts full of holes (so elder shepherds sain) 
 
 Are apter to receive than to retain." 
 
 Whose crafts and wiles did I intend to show, 
 
 This day would not permit me time, I know : 580 
 
 The day's swift horses would their course have run, 
 
 573.— Post, post-haste as we should say. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 39 
 
 And div'd themselves within the ocean, 
 Ere I should have performed half my task, 
 Striving their crafty subtleties t'unmask. 
 And, gentle swain, some counsel take of me ; 585 
 Love not still where thou may'st ; love, who loves 
 thee ; 
 
 Draw to the courteous, fly thy love's abhorrer, 
 " And if she be not for thee, be not for her." 
 If that she still be wavering, will away, [590 
 Why shouldst thou strive to hold that will not stay ? 
 This maxim reason never can confute, 
 " Better to live by loss than die by suit." 
 If to some other love she is inclin'd, 
 Time will at length clean root that from her mind. 
 Time will extinct love's flames, his hell - like 
 flashes, 595 
 And like a burning brand consume 't to ashes. 
 Yet may'st thou still attend, but not importune : 
 " Who seeks oft misseth, sleepers light on fortune," 
 Yea, and on women too. ''Thus doltish sots 
 Have Fate and fairest women for their lots. 600 
 Favour and pity wait on patience : " 
 And hatred oft attendeth violence. 
 If thou wilt get desire whence love hath pawn'd it, 
 Believe me, take thy time, but ne'er demand it. 
 Women, as well as men, retain desire ; 605 
 But can dissemble, more than men, their fire. 
 Be never caught with looks, nor self-wrought rumour ; 
 Nor by a quaint disguise, nor singing humour. 
 
4 o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Those outside shows are toys which outwards snare ? 
 
 But virtue lodg'd within is only fair. 610 
 
 If thou hast seen the beauty of our nation, 
 
 And find'st her have no love, have thou no passion : 
 
 But seek thou further ; other places sure 
 
 May yield a face as fair, a love more pure : 
 
 Leave, O then leave, fond swain, this idle course, 615 
 
 For Love's a god no mortal wight can force. 
 
 Thus Remond said, and saw the fair Marine 
 Plac'd near a spring* whose waters crystalline 
 Did in their murmurings bear a part, and plain'd 
 That one so true, so fair, should be disdain'd : 620 
 Whilst in her cries, that fill'd the vale along, 
 Still Celand was the burthen of her song. 
 The stranger shepherd left the other swain, 
 To give attendance to his fleecy train ; 
 Who, in departing from him, let him know, 625 
 That yonder was his freedom's overthrow, 
 Who sat bewailing (as he late had done) 
 That love by true affection was not won. 
 This fully known, Remond came to the maid, 
 And after some few words, (her tears allay'd,) 630 
 Began to blame her rigour, call'd her cruel, 
 To follow hate, and fly love's chiefest jeweh 
 
 Fair, do not blame him that he thus is mov'd ; 
 For women sure were made to be belov'd. 
 If beauty wanting lovers long should stay, 635 
 It like an house undwelt in would decay : 
 When in the heart if it have taken place 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 41 
 
 Time cannot blot, nor crooked age deface. 
 The adamant and beauty we discover 
 To be alike ; for beauty draws a lover, 640 
 The adamant his iron. Do not blame 
 His loving then, but that which caus'd the same. 
 Whoso is lov'd, doth glory so to be : 
 The more your lovers, more your victory. [645 
 Know, if you stand on faith, most women's loathing, 
 'Tis but a word, a character of nothing. 
 Admit it somewhat, if what we call Constance 
 Within a heart hath long time residence, 
 And in a woman, she becomes alone 
 Fair to herself, but foul to every one. 650 
 \{ in a man it once frave taken place, 
 He is a fool, or dotes, or wants a face 
 To win a woman, and I think it be 
 No virtue, but a mere necessity. 
 Heaven's powers deny it ! Swain (quoth she) have 
 done, 655 
 Strive not to bring that in derision, 
 Which whosoe'er detracts in setting forth, 
 Doth truly derogate from his own worth. 
 It is a thing which heaven to all hath lent 
 To be their virtue's chiefest ornament : 660 
 Which whoso wants is well compar'd to these 
 False tables wrought by Alcibiades, 
 
 639. — Adamant, the magnet ; the loadstone. 
 647.— Constance > constancy. 
 
42 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book f. 
 
 Which noted well of all were found t' have been 
 Most fair without but most deform 'd within. 
 Then, shepherd, know, that I intend to be 665 
 As true to one as he is false to me. 
 
 To one ? (quoth he) why so ? Maids pleasure take 
 To see a thousand languish for their sake : 
 Women desire for lovers of each sort, 
 And why not you ? Th' amorous swain for sport ; 670 
 The lad that drives the greatest flock to field 
 Will buskins, gloves, and other fancies yield ; 
 The gallant swain will save you from the jaws 
 Of ravenous bears, and from the lions' paws. 
 Believe what I propound ; do many choose ; 675 
 " The least herb in the field serves for some use." 
 
 Nothing persuaded, nor assuag'd by this, 
 Was fairest Marine, or her heaviness : 
 But pray'd the shepherd, as he e'er did hope 
 His silly sheep should fearless have the scope 680 
 Of all the shadows that the trees do lend, 
 From reynard's stealth, when Titan doth ascend, 
 And run his midway course, to leave her there, 
 And to his bleating charge again repair. 
 He condescended ; left her by the brook, 685 
 And to the swain and 's sheep himself betook. 
 
 He gone, she with herself thus 'gan to sain : 
 Alas ! poor Marine, think'st thou to attain 
 His love by sitting here ? or can the fire 
 
 685.— Condescended, agreed. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 43 
 
 Be quench'd with wood ? can w T e allay desire 690 
 
 By wanting what's desired ? O that breath, 
 
 The cause of life, should be the cause of death ! 
 
 That who is shipwreck'd on love's hidden shelf, 
 
 Doth live to others, dies unto herself. 
 
 Why might not I attempt by death as yet 695 
 
 To gain that freedom which I could not get, 
 
 Being hinder'd heretofore ? A time as free, 
 
 A place as fit offers itself to me, 
 
 Whose seed of ill is grown to such a height, 
 
 That makes the earth groan to support his weight. 700 
 
 Whoso is lull'd asleep with Midas' treasures, 
 
 And only fears by death to lose life's pleasures ; 
 
 Let them fear death : but since my fault is such, 
 
 And only fault, that I have lov'd too much, 
 
 On joys of life why should I stand ? For those 705 
 
 Which I ne'er had I surely cannot lose. 
 
 Admit a while I to these thoughts consented, 
 
 " Death can be but deferred, not prevented." 
 
 Then raging with delay, her tears that fell 
 
 Usher'd her way, and she into a well 710 
 
 Straightways leapt after. u O I how desperation 
 
 Attends upon the mind enthrall'd to passion ! " 
 
 The fall of her did make the god below, 
 Starting, to wonder whence that noise should grow ; 
 Whether some ruder clown in spite did fling 715 
 A lamb, untimely fall'n, into his spring : 
 
 693*— SheZf, rock. 716. — Untimely falfn, stillborn. 
 
44 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book r. 
 
 And if it were, he solemnly then swore 
 
 His spring should flow some other way : no more 
 
 Should it in wanton manner e'er be seen 
 
 To writhe in knots, or give a gown of green 720 
 
 Unto their meadows, nor be seen to play, 
 
 Nor drive the rushy mills that in his way 
 
 The shepherds made ; but rather for their lot, 
 
 Send them red waters that their sheep should rot ; 
 
 And with such moorish springs embrace their field, 725 
 
 That it should nought but moss and rushes yield. 
 
 Upon each hillock, where the merry boy 
 
 Sits piping in the shades his notes of joy, 
 
 He'd show his anger by some flood at hand, 
 
 And turn the same into a running sand. 730 
 
 Upon the oak, the plum-tree, and the holm, 
 
 The stock-dove and the blackbird should not come, 
 
 Whose muting on those trees do make to grow 
 
 ♦Hyphearad Rots-curing hyphear,* and the mistletoe. [735 
 
 pecor^ud- Nor shall this help their sheep, whose stomach fails, 
 
 lius : omnino g y tymg k no t s of wool near to their tails : 
 autem satum J J 0 
 
 nulIo modo But as the place next to the knot doth die, 
 
 Sf^r r alvum So sha11 {t a11 the bod y mortify. 
 
 avium reddi- Thus spake the god : but when as in the water [740 
 
 turn, maxime ... . . 
 
 palumbis ac The corps came sinking down, he spied the matter, 
 Hi^Nat" ^ nc * catcmn g softly in his arms the maid, 
 16. cap. 93. He brought her up, and having gently laid 
 
 Hinc lllud 
 vet us ver- 
 
 bum turdus 731.— Holm, the holly. 
 
 sibi malum 733. — Muting, dropping dung (of birds). 
 
 caecat * 734. — Hyphear, the Latin name for mistletoe. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 45 
 
 Her on his bank, did presently command 
 Those waters in her to come forth : at hand 
 They straight came gushing out, and did contest 745 
 Which chiefly should obey their god's behest. 
 This done, her then pale lips he straight held ope, 
 And from his silver hair let fall a drop 
 Into her mouth of such an excellence, 
 That call'd back life which griev'd to part from 
 thence, 75° 
 Being for troth assur'd that than this one, 
 She ne'er possess'd a fairer mansion. 
 Then did the god her body forwards steep, 
 And cast her for a while into a sleep ; 
 Sitting still by her did his full view take 755 
 Of Nature's masterpiece. Here for her sake, 
 My pipe in silence as of right shall mourn, 
 Till from the wat'ring we again return. 
 
 753. - Steep, to lay down lengthways. 
 
46 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. Book 
 
 THE SECOND SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 Oblivion's spring, and Dory's love, 
 With fair Marina's rape, first move 
 Mine oaten pipe, which after sings 
 The birth of two renowned springs. 
 
 Now till the sun shall leave us to our rest, 
 And Cynthia have her brother's place possessed, 
 I shall go on : and first in diff ring stripe, 
 The flood-god's speech thus tune on oaten pipe. 
 Or mortal, or a power above, 
 Enrag'd by fury, or by love, 
 Or both, I know not ; such a deed 
 Thou wouldst effected, that I bleed 
 To think thereon : alas ! poor elf, 
 What, grown a traitor to thyself? 
 This face, this hair, this hand so pure 
 Were not ordain'd for nothing, sure. 
 Nor was it meant so sweet a breath 
 
 3. — Stripe, measure. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 47 
 
 Should be expos'd by such a death ; 
 
 But rather in some lover's breast 1 5 
 
 Be given up, the place that best 
 
 Befits a lover yield his soul. 
 
 Nor should those mortals e'er control 
 
 The gods, that in their wisdom sage 
 
 Appointed have what pilgrimage 20 
 
 Each one should run : and why should men 
 
 Abridge the journey set by them ? 
 
 But much I wonder any wight 
 
 If he did turn his outward sight 
 
 Into his inward, dar'd to act 25 
 
 Her death, whose body is compact 
 
 Of all the beauties ever Nature 
 
 Laid up in store for earthly creature. 
 
 No savage beast can be so cruel 
 
 To rob the earth of such a jewel. 30 
 
 Rather the stately unicorn 
 
 Would in his breast enraged scorn, 
 
 That maids committed to his charge 
 
 By any beast in forest large 
 
 Should so be wronged. Satyrs rude 35 
 
 Durst not attempt, or e'er intrude 
 
 With such a mind the fiow'ry balks 
 
 Where harmless virgins have their walks. 
 
 Would she be won with me to stay, 
 
 My waters should bring from the sea 40 
 
 37.— Balks, a ridge of land left by the plough in plough- 
 ing- 
 
48 BRITANNIA'S PASTORAIS. [Book i. 
 
 The coral red, as tribute due, 
 
 And roundest pearls of Orient hue : 
 
 Or in the richer veins of ground 
 
 Should seek for her the diamond. 
 
 And whereas now unto my spring 45 
 
 They nothing else but gravel bring, 
 
 They should within a mine of gold 
 
 In piercing manner long time hold, 
 
 And having it to dust well wrought, 
 
 By them it hither should be brought ; 50 
 
 With which I'll pave and overspread 
 
 My bottom, where her foot shall tread. 
 
 The best of fishes in my flood 
 
 Shall give themselves to be her food. 
 
 The trout, the dace, the pike, the bream, 55 
 
 The eel, that loves the troubled stream, 
 
 The miller's thumb, the hiding loach, 
 
 The perch, the ever-nibbling roach, 
 
 The shoats with whom is Tavy fraught, 
 
 The foolish gudgeon, quickly caught, 60 
 
 And last the little minnow-fish, 
 
 Whose chief delight in gravel is. 
 
 In right she cannot me despise 
 Because so low mine empire lies. 
 For I could tell how Nature's store 65 
 Of majesty appeareth more 
 In waters than in all the rest 
 
 59.— Shvats, or shotes, a kind of trout. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Of elements. It seem'd her best 
 
 To give the waves most strength and power 
 
 For they do swallow and devour 
 
 The earth ; the waters quench and kill 
 
 The flames of fire : and mounting still 
 
 Up in the air, are seen to be 
 
 As challenging a seignorie 
 
 Within the heavens, and to be one 
 
 That should have like dominion. 
 
 They be a ceiling and a floor 
 
 Of clouds, caus'd by the vapours' store 
 
 Arising from them, vital spirit 
 
 By which all things their life inherit 
 
 From them is stopped, kept asunder. 
 
 And what's the reason else of thunder, 
 
 Of lightning's flashes all about, 
 
 That with such violence break out, 
 
 Causing such troubles and such jars, 
 
 As with itself the world had wars? 
 
 And can there anything appear 
 
 More wonderful than in the air 
 
 Congealed waters oft to spy 
 
 Continuing pendant in the sky ? 
 
 Till falling down in hail or snow, 
 
 They make those mortal wights below 
 
 To run, and ever help desire 
 
 From his foe element the fire, 
 
 74. — Seignorie, domain. 
 
 VOL. t. 
 
 E 
 
BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Which fearing then to come abroad, 95 
 
 Within doors maketh his abode ; 
 
 Or falling down ofttime in rain, 
 
 Doth give green liveries to the plain, 
 
 Make[s] shepherds' Iambs fit for the dish, 
 
 And giveth nutriment to fish ; icq 
 
 Which nourisheth all things of worth 
 
 The earth produceth and brings forth ; 
 
 And therefore well considering 
 
 The nature of it in each thing : 
 
 As when the teeming earth doth grow 105 
 
 So hard, that none can plough nor sow, 
 
 Her breast it doth so mollify, 
 
 That it not only comes to be 
 
 More easy for the share and ox, 
 
 But that in harvest times the shocks no 
 
 Of Ceres' hanging eared corn 
 
 Doth fill the hovel and the barn. 
 
 To trees and plants I comfort give, 
 
 By me they fructify and live : 
 
 For first ascending from benealh 1 15 
 
 Into the sky, with lively breath, 
 
 I thence am furnish'd, and bestow 
 
 The same on herbs that are below. 
 
 So that by this each one may see 
 
 I cause them spring and multiply. 120 
 
 Who seeth this can do no less, 
 
 Than of his own accord confess, 
 
 That notwithstanding all the strength 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 51 
 
 The earth enjoys in breadth and length, 
 
 She is beholding to each stream, 125 
 
 And hath received all from them. 
 
 Her love to him she then must give 
 
 By whom herself doth chiefly live. 
 This being spoken by this water's god, 
 He straightway in his hand did take his rod, 130 
 And struck it on his bank, wherewith the flood 
 Did such a roaring make within the wood, 
 
 That straight the nymph* who then sat on her shore, * The watery 
 
 Knew there was somewhat to be done in store : nymph 
 
 that spoke 
 
 And therefore hasting to her brother's spring 135 to Remond. 
 
 She spied what caus'd the waters' echoing. 
 
 Saw where fair Marine fast asleep did lie, 
 
 Whilst that the god still viewing her sat by : 
 
 Who- when he saw his sister nymph draw near, 
 
 He thus 'gan tune his voice unto her ear : 140 
 
 My fairest sister (for we come 
 
 Both from the swelling Thetis' womb) 
 
 The reason why of late I strook 
 
 My ruling wand upon my brook, 
 
 Was for this purpose : Late this maid 145 
 
 Which on my bank asleep is laid, 
 
 Was by herself or other wight 
 
 Cast in my spring, and did affright 
 
 With her late fall the fish that take 
 
 Their chiefest pleasure in my lake : 150 
 
 Of all the fry within my deep, 
 
 None durst out of their dwellings peep. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 The trout within the weeds did scud, 
 
 The eel him hid within the mud. 
 
 Yea, from this fear I was not free ; 155 
 
 For as I musing sat to see 
 
 How that the pretty pebbles round 
 
 Came with my spring from underground, 
 
 And how the waters issuing 
 
 Did make them dance about my spring ; 160 
 
 The noise thereof did me appall : 
 
 That starting upward therewithal, 
 
 I in my arms her body caught, 
 
 And both to light and life her brought : 
 
 Then cast her in a sleep you see. 165 
 
 But, brother, to the cause (quoth she) 
 
 Why by your raging waters wild 
 
 Am I here called ? Thetis' child, 
 
 Replied the god, for thee I sent, 
 
 That when her time of sleep is spent, 170 
 
 I may commit her to thy gage, 
 
 Since women best know women's rage. 
 
 Meanwhile, fair nymph, accompany 
 
 My spring with thy sweet harmony ; 
 
 And we will make her soul to take 175 
 
 Some pleasure, which is said to wake, 
 
 Although the body hath his rest. 
 She gave consent, and each of them addressed 
 Unto their part. The wat'ry nymph did sing 
 
 171.— Gage> here used in the sense of 11 temporary keeping." 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 53 
 
 In manner of a pretty questioning : 1 80 
 
 The god made answer to what she propounded, 
 Whilst from the spring a pleasant music sounded, 
 Making each shrub in silence to adore them, 
 Taking their subject from what lay before them. 
 
 Nymph. What's that, compact of earth, infus'd with 
 air ; 185 
 A certain made full with uncertainties ; 
 Sway'd by the motion of each several sphere ; 
 Who's fed with nought but infelicities ; 
 
 Endures nor heat nor cold ; is like a swan, 
 That this hour sings, next dies? 190 
 God. It is a man. 
 
 Nymph. What's he, born to be sick, so always dying, 
 That's guided by inevitable fate ; 
 That comes in weeping, and, that goes out crying ; 
 Whose calendar of woes is still in date ; 195 
 Whose life's a bubble, and in length a span ; 
 A concert still in discords ? 
 
 God. 'Tis a man. 
 
 Nymph. What's he, whose thoughts are still quell'd 
 in th' event, 
 
 Though ne'er so lawful, by an opposite, 200 
 Hath all things fleeting, nothing permanent, 
 And at his ears wears still a parasite : 
 
54 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Hath friends in wealth, or wealthy friends, who can 
 In want prove mere illusions? 
 
 God. 'Tis a man. 205 
 
 Nymph. What's he, that what he is not strives to 
 seem ; 
 
 That doth support an Atlas-weight of care ; 
 That of an outward good doth best esteem, 
 And looketh not within how solid they are ; 
 
 That doth not virtuous, but the richest scan, 210 
 
 Learning and worth by wealth ? 
 
 God. It is a man. 
 
 Nymph. What's that possessor, which of good makes 
 bad ; 
 
 And what is worst, makes choice still for the best ; 
 That grieveth most to think of what he had, 215 
 And of his chiefest loss accounteth least ; 
 
 That doth not what he ought, but what he can ; 
 
 Whose fancy's ever boundless ? 
 
 God, 'Tis a man. 
 
 Nymph. But what is it wherein Dame Nature wrought 
 The best of works, the only frame of Heaven ; [220 
 And having long to find a present sought, 
 Wherein the world's whole beauty might be given, 
 She did resolve in it all arts to summon, 
 To join with Nature's framing ? 225 
 God. 'Tis this woman. 
 
 The first 
 woman is 
 feigned to be 
 named Pan- 
 dora, i. a 
 creature 
 framed of the 
 concurrence 
 of the gifts 
 and orna- 
 ments of all 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 55 
 
 Nymph. If beauty be a thing to be admired, 
 And if admiring draw to it affection, 
 And what we do affect is most desired, 
 What wight is he to love denies subjection ? 2 
 And can his thoughts within himself confine ? 
 
 the gods. As 
 Hesiod, on 
 
 OA.VjU.7ria 
 
 in m 
 
 eyoyTe? 
 Aotpov 
 
 Marine that waking lay, said : Celandine. 
 He is the man that hates which some admire ; 
 He is the wight that loathes whom most desire ; 
 'Tis only he to love denies subjecting, 
 And but himself, thinks none is worth affecting. 
 Unhappy me the while, accurs'd my fate, 
 That Nature gives no love where she gave hate. 
 The wat'ry rulers then perceived plain, 
 Nipp'd with the winter of love's frost, disdain, 
 This nonpareil of beauty had been led 
 To do an act which Envy pitied : 
 Therefore in pity did confer together 
 What physic best might cure this burning fever. 
 At last found out that in a grove below, 
 Where shadowing sycamores past number grow, 
 A fountain takes his journey to the main, 
 Whose liquor's nature was so sovereign 
 (Like to the wondrous well and famous spring, 
 Which in Bceotia* hath his issuing), 
 That whoso of it doth but only taste, 
 All former memory from him doth waste ; 
 Not changing any other work of Nature, 
 But doth endow the drinker with a feature 
 
 235 
 
 240 
 
 245 
 
 * Pliny 
 writes of two 
 springs rising 
 2qo i n Bceotia, 
 the first help- 
 ing memory, 
 called /u.7'*7iu.>} : 
 the latter 
 causing ob- 
 livion, called 
 
56 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 More lovely. Fair Medea took from hence 255 
 Some of this water, by whose quintessence 
 yEson from age came back to youth. This known, 
 The god thus spake : 
 
 Nymph, be thine own, 
 And after mine. This goddess here 
 (For she's no less) will bring thee where 260 
 Thou shalt acknowledge springs have do[n]e 
 As much for thee as any one. 
 Which ended, and thou gotten free, 
 If thou wilt come and live with me, 
 No shepherd's daughter, ncr his wife, 265 
 Shall boast them of a better life. 
 Meanwhile I leave thy thoughts at large, 
 Thy body to my sister's charge ; 
 Whilst I into my spring do dive 
 To see that they do not deprive 270 
 The meadows near, which much do thirst, 
 Thus heated by the sun. May first 
 (Quoth Marine) swains give lambs to thee ; 
 And may thy flood have seignorie 
 Of all floods else, and to thy fame 275 
 Meet greater springs, yet keep thy name. 
 May never evet nor the toad 
 Within thy banks make their abode ! 
 Taking thy journey from the sea, 
 
 274. — Seignorie, lordship, dominion. 
 
 277. — Evet) or bibit, the Devonshire name of the newt. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 57 
 
 May'st thou ne'er happen in thy way 280 
 
 On nitre or on brimstone mine, 
 
 To spoil thy taste ! this spring of thine 
 
 Let it of nothing taste but earth, 
 
 And salt conceived, in their birth 
 
 Be ever fresh ! Let no man dare 285 
 
 To spoil thy fish, make lock or ware ; 
 
 But on thy margent still let dwell 
 
 Those flowers which have the sweetest smell. 
 
 And let the dust upon thy stiand 
 
 Become like Tagus' golden sand. 290 
 
 Let as much good betide to thee, 
 
 As thou hast favour show'd to me. 
 
 Thus said, in gentle paces they remove, 
 
 And hasten'd onward to the shady grove, 
 
 Where both arriv'd ; and having found the rock,. 295 
 
 Saw how this precious water it did lock. 
 
 As he whom avarice possesseth most, 
 
 Drawn by necessity unto his cost, 
 
 Doth drop by piecemeal down his prison'd gold, 
 
 And seems unwilling to let go his hold : 300 
 
 So the strong rock the water long time stops, 
 
 And by degrees lets it fall down in drops. 
 
 Like hoarding housewives that do mould their food, 
 
 And keep from others what doth them no good. 
 
 The drops within a cistern fell of stone, 305 
 Which fram'd by Nature, Art had never one 
 
 286.— 
 
 Ware, weir 
 
58 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i 
 
 Half part so curious. Many spells then using, 
 The water's nymph 'twixt Marine's lips infusing 
 Part of this water, she might straight perceive 
 How soon her troubled thoughts began to leave 310 
 Her love-swoll'n breast ; and that her inward flame 
 Was clean assuaged, and the very name 
 Of Celandine forgotten ; did scarce know 
 If there were such a thing as love or no. 
 And sighing, therewithal threw in the air 315 
 All former love, all sorrow, all despair ; 
 And all the former causes of her moan 
 Did therewith bury in oblivion. 
 Then must'ring up her thoughts, grown vagabonds, 
 Press'd to relieve her inward bleeding wounds, 320 
 She had as quickly all things past forgotten, 
 As men do monarchs that in earth lie rotten. 
 As one new born she seem'd, so all-discerning, 
 " Though things long learn'd are thelong'st unlearn- 
 tag." 
 
 Then walk'd they to a grove but near at hand, 325 
 Where fiery Titan had but small command, 
 Because the leaves, conspiring, kept his beams, 
 For fear of hurting (when he's in extremes) 
 The under-flowers, which did enrich the ground 
 With sweeter scents than in Arabia found. 330 
 The earth doth yield (which they through pores 
 exhale) 
 
 Earth's best of odours, th' aromatical : 
 
 Like to that smell which oft our sense descries 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 59 
 
 Within a field which long unploughed lies, 
 
 Somewhat before the setting of the sun ; 335 
 
 And where the rainbow in the horizon 
 
 Doth pitch her tips : or as when in the prime, 
 
 The earth being troubled with a drought long time, 
 
 The hand of Heaven his spongy clouds doth strain, 
 
 And throws into her lap a shower of rain : 340 
 
 She sendeth up (conceived from the sun) 
 
 A sweet perfume and exhalation. 
 
 Not all the ointments brought from Delos' Isle, 
 
 Nor from the confines of seven-headed Nile, 
 
 Nor that brought whence Phoenicians have abodes, 345 
 
 Nor Cyprus' wild vine-flowers, nor that of Rhodes, 
 
 Nor roses' oil from Naples, Capua, 
 
 Saffron confected in Cilicia, 
 
 Nor that of quinces, nor of marjoram, 
 
 That ever from the Isle of Coos came; 350 
 
 Nor these, nor any else, though ne'er so rare, 
 
 Could with this place for sweetest smells compare. 
 
 There stood the elm, whose shade so mildly dim 
 
 Doth nourish all that groweth under him ; 
 
 Cypress that like pyramids run topping, 355 
 
 And hurt ihe least of any by their dropping ; 
 
 The aider, whose fat shadow nourisheth, 
 
 Each plant set near to him long flourisheth ; 
 
 The heavy-headed plane-tree, by whose shade 
 
 The grass grows thickest, men are fresher made ; 360 
 
 337. — Prnnc, spring. 
 
 340.— Confected \ prepared as sweetmeats. 
 
6o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 The oak, that best endures the thunder-shocks ; 
 
 The everlasting eben, cedar, box ; 
 
 The olive that in wainscot never cleaves ; 
 
 The amorous vine, which in the elm still weaves ; 
 
 The -lotus, juniper, where worms ne'er enter ; 365 
 
 The pine, with whom men through the ocean venter ; 
 
 The warlike yew, by which (more than the lance) 
 
 The strong-arm'd English spirits conquer'd France. 
 
 Amongst the rest the tamarisk there stood, 
 
 For housewives' besoms only known most good ; 370 
 
 The cold-place-loving birch, and service-tree ; 
 
 The walnut loving vales, and mulberry ; 
 
 The maple, ash, that do delight in fountains 
 
 Which have their currents by the sides of mountains ; 
 
 The laurel, myrtle, ivy, date, which hold 375 
 
 Their leaves all winter, be it ne'er so cold ; 
 
 The fir, that oftentimes doth rosin drop ; 
 
 The beech, that scales the welkin with his top ; 
 
 All these, and thousand more within this grove, 
 
 By all the industry of Nature strove 380 
 
 To frame an harbour that might keep within it 
 
 The best of beauties that the world hath in it. 
 
 Here ent'ring, at the entrance of which shroud, 
 The sun, half angry, hid him in a cloud, 
 As raging that a grove should from his sight 385 
 Lock up a beauty whence himself had light, 
 
 369. — Tamarisk, a shrub growing freely on the south coast 
 of England. See Note. 
 
 371. — Service-tree) the wild pear-tree. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 61 
 
 The flowers pull'd in their heads as being 'sham'd 
 Their beauties by the others were defam'd. 
 
 Near to this wood there lay a pleasant mead, 
 Where fairies often did their measures tread, 390 
 Which in the meadow made such circles g[r]een, 
 As if with garlands it had crowned been, 
 Or like the circle where the signs we track, 
 And learned shepherds call't the Zodiac : 
 Within one of these rounds was to be seen 395 
 A hillock rise, where oft the fairy-queen 
 At twilight sat, and did command her elves 
 To pinch those maids that had not swept their 
 shelves ; 
 
 And further, if by maidens' oversight 
 
 Within doors water were not brought at night ; 400 
 
 Or if they spread no table, set no bread, 
 
 They should have nips from toe unto the head ; 
 
 And for the maid that had perform'd each thing, 
 
 She in the water-pail bade leave a ring. 
 
 Upon this hill there sat a lovely swain, 405 
 As if that Nature thought it great disdain 
 That he should (so through her his genius told him) 
 Take equal place with swains, since she did hold him 
 Her chiefest work, and therefore thought it fit 
 That with inferiors he should never sit. 410 
 Narcissus' change sure Ovid clean mistook, 
 He died not looking in a crystal brook, 
 But (as those which in emulation gaze) 
 He pin'd to death by looking on this face. 
 
62 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 When he stoo^ fishing by some river's brim, 415 
 
 The fish would leap, more for a sight of him 
 
 Than for the fly. The eagle, highest bred, 
 
 Was taking him once up for Ganymede. 
 
 The shag-hair'd satyrs, and the tripping fawns, 
 
 With all the troop that frolic on the lawns, 420 
 
 Would come and gaze on him, as who should say 
 
 They had not seen his like this many a day. 
 
 Yea, Venus knew no difference 'twixt these twain, 
 
 Save Adon was a hunter, this a swain. 
 
 The wood's sweet quiristers from spray to spray 425 
 
 Would hop them nearer him, and then there stay : 
 
 Each joying greatly from his little heart 
 
 That they with his sweet reed might bear a part. 
 
 This was the boy (the poets did mistake) 
 
 To whom bright Cynthia so much love did make ; 430 
 
 And promis'd for his love no scornful eyes 
 
 Should ever see her more in horned guise : 
 
 But she at his command would as of duty 
 
 Become as full of light as he of beauty. 
 
 Lucina at his birth for midwife stuck ; 435 
 
 And Cytherea nurs'd and gave him suck, 
 
 Who to that end, once dove-drawn from the sea, 
 
 Her full paps dropp'd, whence came the milky-way. 
 
 And as when Plato did i' th' cradle thrive, 
 
 Bees to his lips brought honey from their hive : 440 
 
 So to this boy they came, I know not whether 
 
 425. — Quiriste: s, choristers. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 63 
 
 They brought, or from his lips did honey gather. 
 
 The wood-nymphs oftentimes would busied be, 
 
 And pluck for him the blushing strawberry, 
 
 Making of them a bracelet on a bent, 445 
 
 Which for a favour to this swain they sent. 
 
 Sitting in shades, the sun would oft by skips 
 
 Steal through the boughs, and seize upon his lips. 
 
 The chiefest cause the sun did condescend 
 
 To Phaeton's request was to this end, 450 
 
 That whilst the other did his horses rein, 
 
 He might slide from his sphere and court this swain, 
 
 Whose sparkling eyes vied lustre with the stars, 
 
 The truest centre of all circulars. 
 
 In brief, if any man in skill were able 455 
 
 To finish up Apelles' half-done table, 
 
 This boy (the man left out) were fittest sure 
 
 To be the pattern of that portraiture. 
 
 Piping he sat, as merry as his look, 
 And by him lay his bottle and his hook. 460 
 His buskins (edg'd with silver) were of silk, 
 Which held a leg more white than morning's milk. 
 Those buskins he had got and brought away 
 For dancing best upon the revel day. 
 His oaten reed did yield forth such sweet notes, 465 
 Joined in concert with the birds' shrill throats, 
 
 445- 
 
 449- 
 456 
 
 . — Bent, a long coarse grass. 
 — Condescend, consent. 
 - Table, a picture of Aphrodite. 
 
64 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 That equaliz'd the harmony of spheres, 
 A music that would ravish choicest ears. 
 Long look'd they on, (who would not long look on, 
 That such an object had to look upon ?) 470 
 Till at the last the nymph did Marine send 
 To ask the nearest way whereby to wend 
 To those fair walks where sprung Marina's ill, 
 Whilst she would stay : Marine obey'd her will, 
 And hasten'd towards him (who would not do so, 475 
 That such a pretty journey had to go?) 
 Sweetly she came, and with a modest blush, 
 Gave him the day, and then accosted thus : 
 
 Fairest of men, that (whilst thy flock doth feed) 
 Sitt'st sweetly piping on thine oaten reed 480 
 Upon this little berry (some ycleep 
 A hillock) void of care, as are thy sheep 
 Devoid of spots, and sure on all this green 
 A fairer flock as yet was never seen : 
 Do me this favour (men should favour maids) 485 
 That whatsoever path directly leads, 
 And void of danger, thou to me do show, 
 That by it to the Marish I might go. 
 Marriage ! (quoth he) mistaking what she said, 
 Nature's perfection : thou most fairest maid, 490 
 (If any fairer than the fairest may be) 
 Come sit thee down by me ; know, lovely lady, 
 
 481. — Berry, barrow, or mound. Berry, Berry- Head, Berry 
 Pomeroy, all in Devonshire, are perhaps instances of its use. 
 488. — Marisht marsh. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 65 
 
 Love is the readiest way : if ta'en aright, 
 
 You may attain thereto full long ere night. 
 
 The maiden thinking he of marish spoke, 495 
 
 And not of marriage, straightway did invoke, 
 
 And pray'd the shepherds' god might always keep 
 
 Him from all danger, and from wolves his sheep. 
 
 Wishing withal that in the prime of spring 
 
 Each sheep he had two lambs might yearly bring, 500 
 
 But yet (quoth she) arede, good gentle swain, 
 
 If in the dale below, or on yond plain ; 
 
 Or is the village situate in a grove, 
 
 Through which my way lies, and ycleeped Love ? 
 
 Nor on yond plain, nor in this neighbouring wood ; 
 
 Nor in the dale where glides the silver flood ; [505 
 
 But like a beacon on a hill so high, 
 
 That every one may see 't which passeth by, 
 
 Is Love yplac'd : there's nothing can it hide, 
 
 Although of you as yet 'tis unespied. 510 
 
 But on which hill (quoth she) pray tell me true ? 
 
 Why here (quoth he) it sits and talks to you. 
 
 And are you Love (quoth she ?) fond swain, adieu, 
 
 You guide me wrong, my way lies not by you. 
 
 Though not your way, yet you may lie by me : 515 
 
 Nymph, with a shepherd thou as merrily 
 
 May'st love and live, as with the greatest lord. 
 
 " Greatness doth never most content afford." 
 
 I love thee only, not affect world's pelf ; 
 
 501. — Arede, explain. 
 VOL. I. ' F 
 
66 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 " She is not lov'd that's lov'd not for herself." ^20 
 How many shepherds' daughters, who in duty 
 1 To griping fathers have enthrall'd their beauty, 
 To wait upon the gout, to walk when pleases 
 Old January halt. O that diseases [525 
 Should link with youth ! She that hath such a mate 
 Is like two twins born both incorporate : 
 Th' one living, th' other dead : the living twin 
 Must needs be slain through noisomeness of him 
 He carrieth with him : such are their estates, 
 Who merely marry wealth and not their mates. 530 
 
 As ebbing waters freely slide away 
 To pay their tribute to the raging sea ; 
 When meeting with the flood they jostle stout, 
 Whether the one shall in, or th' other out : [535 
 Till the strong flood new power of waves doth bring, 
 And drives the river back into his spring : 
 So Marine's words off'ring to take their course, 
 By Love then ent'ring, were kept back, and force 
 To it, his sweet face, eyes, and tongue assign'd, 
 And threw them back again into her mind. 540 
 44 How hard it is to leave and not to do 
 That which by nature we are prone unto ! 
 We hardly can (alas why not ?) discuss, 
 When Nature hath decreed it must be thus. 
 It is a maxim held of all, known plain : 545 
 Thrust Nature off with forks, she'll turn again." 
 
 Blithe Doridon (so men this shepherd hight) 
 Seeing his goddess in a silent plight, 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 67 
 
 (" Love often makes the speech's organs mute,") 
 Began again thus to renew his suit : 550 
 
 If by my words your silence hath been such, 
 Faith I am sorry I have spoke so much. 
 Bar I those lips ? fit to be th' utt'rers when 
 The heavens would parley with the chief of men ; 
 Fit to direct (a tongue all hearts convinces) 555 
 When best of scribes writes to the best of princes. 
 Were mine like yours, of choicest words completest, 
 " I'd show how griefs a thing weighs down the 
 greatest ; 
 
 The best of forms (who knows not) grief doth taint it, 
 
 The skilfull'st pencil never yet could paint it ; " 560 
 
 And reason good, since no man yet could find 
 
 What figure represents a grieved mind. 
 
 Methinks a troubled thought is thus express'd, 
 
 To be a chaos rude and indigest : 
 
 Where all do rule, and yet none bears chief sway: 565 
 
 Check' d only by a power that's more than they. 
 
 This do I speak, since to this every lover 
 
 That thus doth love, is thus still given over. 
 
 If that you say you will not, cannot love : [570 
 
 Oh heavens ! for what cause then do you here move ? 
 
 Are you not fram'd of that expertest mould 
 
 For whom all in this round concordance hold ? 
 
 Or are you framed of some other fashion, 
 
 And have a form and heart, but yet no passion ? 
 
 572.— Round, globe, world. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 It cannot be : for then unto what end 575 
 
 Did the best workman this great work intend ? 
 
 Not that by minds' commerce, and joint estate, 
 
 The world's continuers still should propagate ? 
 
 Yea, if that Reason (regent of the senses) 
 
 Have but a part amongst your excellences, 580 
 
 She'll tell you what you call Virginity, 
 
 Is fitly liken'd to a barren tree ; 
 
 Which when the gard'ner on it pains bestows, 
 
 To graft an imp thereon, in time it grows 
 
 To such perfection that it yearly brings 585 
 
 As goodly fruit as any tree that springs. 
 
 Believe me, maiden, vow no chastity : 
 
 For maidens but imperfect creatures be. 
 
 Alas, poor boy (quoth Marine), have the Fates 
 Exempted no degrees ? are no estates 590 
 Free from Love's rage ? Be rul'd, unhappy swain ; 
 Call back thy spirits, and recollect again 
 Thy vagrant wits. I tell thee for a truth 
 " Love is a siren that doth shipwreck youth." 
 Be well advis'd ; thou entertain'st a guest 595 
 That is the harbinger of all unrest : 
 Which like the viper's young, that lick the earth, 
 Eat out the breeder's womb to get a birth. 
 
 Faith (quoth the boy), I know there cannot be 
 Danger in loving or enjoying thee. 600 
 For what cause were things made and called good, 
 
 584.— Imji, shoot. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 69 
 
 But to be loved ? If you understood 
 
 The birds that prattle here, you would know then, 
 
 As birds woo birds, maids should be woo'd of men. 
 
 But I want power to woo, since what was mine 605 
 
 Is fled, and lie as vassals at your shrine : 
 
 And since what's mine is yours, let that same move, 
 
 Although in me you see nought worthy love. 
 
 Marine about to speak, forth of a sling 
 
 (Fortune to all misfortunes plies her wing 610 
 
 More quick and speedy) came a sharpen'd flint, 
 
 Which in the fair boy's neck made such a dint, 
 
 That crimson blood came streaming from the wound, 
 
 And he fell down into a deadly swound. 
 
 The blood ran all along where' it did fall, 615 
 
 And could not find a place of burial : 
 
 But where it came, it there congealed stood, 
 
 As if the Earth loath'd to drink guiltless blood. 
 
 Gold-hair'd Apollo, Muses' sacred king, 
 Whose praise in Delphos' Isle doth ever ring, 620 
 Physic's first founder, whose art's excellence 
 Extracted Nature's chiefest quintessence, 
 Unwilling that a thing of such a worth 
 Should so be lost, straight sent a dragon forth 
 To fetch this blood, and he perform'd the same : 625 
 And now apothecaries give it name, 
 From him that fetch'd it — (doctors know it good 
 In physic's use) — and call it dragon's blood. 
 Some of the blood by chance did downward fall, 
 And by a vein got to a mineral, 630 
 
70 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Whence came a red : decayed dames infuse it 
 With Venice ceruse, and for painting use it. 
 Marine astonish'd (most unhappy maid), 
 O'ercome with fear, and at the view afraid, 
 Fell down into a trance, eyes lost their sight, 635 
 Which being open made all darkness light. 
 Her blood ran to her heart, or life to feed, 
 Or loathing to behold so vile a deed. 
 
 And as when winter doth the earth array 
 In silver suit, and when the night and day 640 
 Are in dissension, night locks up the ground, 
 Which by the help of day is oft unbound, 
 A shepherd's boy with bow and shafts address'd, 
 Ranging the fields, having once pierc'd the breast 
 Of some poor fowl, doth with the blow straight rush 
 To catch the bird lies panting in the bush : [645 
 So rush'd this striker in, up Marine took, 
 And hasten' d with her to a near-hand brook. 
 Old shepherds sain (old shepherds sooth have sain) 
 * An expres- Two rivers* took their issue from the main, 650 
 natures of two Botn near together, and each bent his race, 
 rivers rising which of them both should first behold the face 
 gether, and Of radiant Phoebus : one of them in gliding 
 differing in cfranc'd on a vein where nitre had abiding : 
 
 LtlCll C3.SCCS 
 
 and manner The other, loathing that her purer wave 65$ 
 of running. shou]d be defil > d with that the nitre gave? 
 
 632.— Venice ceruse •, white-lead, used by ladies for painting 
 their faces and bosoms. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 7i 
 
 Fled fast away, the other follow'd fast, 
 Till both been in a rock ymet at last. 
 As seemed best, the rock did first deliver 
 Out of his hollow sides the purer river, 660 
 (As if it taught those men in honour clad 
 To help the virtuous and suppress the bad, ) 
 Which gotten loose, did softly glide away. 
 As men from earth, to earth ; from sea, to sea ; 
 So rivers run : and that from whence both came 665 
 Takes what she gave : waves, earth : but leaves a 
 name. 
 
 As waters have their course, and in their place 
 Succeeding streams will out, so is man's race : 
 The name doth still survive, and cannot die, 
 Until the channels stop, or spring grow dry. 670 
 
 As I have seen upon a bridal day 
 Full many maids clad in: their best array, 
 In honour of the bride come with their flaskets 
 Fill'd full with flowers : others in wicker-baskets 
 Bring from the marish rushes to o'erspread 675 
 The ground whereon to church the lovers tread ; 
 Whilst that the quaintest youth of all the plain 
 Ushers their w T ay with many a piping strain : 
 So, as in joy, at this fair river's birth, 
 Triton came up a channel with his mirth, 680 
 
 673. — Flaskets, clothes-baskets. 
 675. — Marish, marsh. 
 
 677. — Quaintest, neat, elegant, or ingenious. 
 
72 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 And call'd the neighboring nymphs each in her turn 
 To pour their pretty rivulets from their urn. 
 To wait upon this new-deliver'd spring, 
 Some running through the meadows, with them bring 
 Cowslip and mint ; and 'tis another's lot 685 
 To light upon some gard'ner's curious knot, 
 Whence she upon her breast (love's sweet repose) 
 Doth bring the queen of flowers, the English rose. 
 Some from the fen bring reeds, wild-thyme from 
 downs ; 
 
 Some from a grove the bay that poets crowns ; 690 
 
 Some from an aged rock the moss hath torn, 
 
 And leaves him naked unto winter's storm ; 
 
 Another from her banks (in mere goodwill) 
 
 Brings nutriment for fish, the camomile. 
 
 Thus all bring somewhat, and do overspread 695 
 
 The way the spring unto the sea doth tread. 
 
 This while the flood which yet the rock up-pent, 
 And suffer'd not with jocund merriment 
 To tread rounds in his spring, came rushing forth, 
 As angry that his waves (he thought) of worth 700 
 Should not have liberty, nor help the prime. 
 And as some ruder swain composing rhyme, 
 Spends many a grey goose-quill unto the handle, 
 Buries within his socket many a candle, 
 Blots paper by the quire, and dries up ink, 705 
 
 686. — Knot, garden plat. 
 
 691. — An aged rock, etc. See Note. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 73 
 
 As Xerxes' army did whole rivers drink, 
 
 Hoping thereby his name his work should raise 
 
 That it should live until the last of days : 
 
 Which finished, he boldly doth address 
 
 Him and his works to undergo the press ; 710 
 
 When lo (O Fate \) his work not seeming fit 
 
 To walk in equipage with better wit, 
 
 Is kept from light, there gnawn by moths and worms, 
 
 At which he frets : right so this river storms : 
 
 But broken forth ; as Tavy creeps upon 715 
 
 The western vales of fertile Albion, 
 
 Here dashes roughly on an aged rock, 
 
 That his intended passage doth up-lock ; 
 
 There intricately 'mongst the woods doth wander, 
 
 Losing himself in many a wry meander : 720 
 
 Here amorously bent, clips some fair mead ; 
 
 And then dispers'd in rills, doth measures tread 
 
 Upon her bosom 'mongst her flow'ry ranks : 
 
 There in another place bears down the banks 
 
 Of some day-labouring wretch : here meets a rill, 725 
 
 And with their forces join'd cuts out a mill 
 
 Into an island, then in jocund guise 
 
 Surveys his conquest, lauds his enterprise : 
 
 Here digs a cave at some high mountain's foot : 
 
 There undermines an oak, tears up his root : 730 
 
 Thence rushing to some country-farm at hand, 
 
 Breaks o'er the yeoman's mounds, sweeps from his land 
 
 712. — To walk in equipage, etc. See Note. 
 
 729. —Here digs a cave, etc. See Note. 
 
74 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 His harvest hope of wheat, of rye, or pease : 
 
 And makes that channel which was shepherd's lease : 
 
 Here, as our wicked age doth sacrilege, 735 
 
 Helps down an abbey, then a natural bridge 
 
 By creeping underground he frameth out, 
 
 As who should say he either went about 
 
 To right the wrong he did, or hid his face, 
 
 For having done a deed so vile and base : 740 
 
 So ran this river on, and did bestir 
 
 Himself to find his fellow-traveller. 
 
 But th' other fearing lest her noise might show 
 What path she took, which way her streams did flow : 
 As some wayfaring man strays thro' a wood, 745 
 Where beasts of prey, thirsting for human blood, 
 Lurk in their dens, he softly list'ning goes, 
 Not trusting to his heels, treads on his toes ; 
 Dreads every noise he hears, thinks each small bush 
 To be a beast that would upon him rush ; 750 
 Feareth to die, and yet his wind doth smother ; 
 Now leaves this path, takes that, then to another ; 
 Such was her course. This feared to be found, 
 The other not to find, swells o'er each mound, 
 Roars, rages, foams, against a mountain dashes, 755 
 And in recoil makes meadows standing plashes : 
 Yet finds not what he seeks in all his way, 
 But in despair runs headlong to the sea. 
 
 734. — Lease, pasture. 
 
 736. — Hel^s down an abbey) etc* See Note. 
 756.— Plashes, pools. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 75 
 
 This was the cause them by tradition taueht, 
 Why one flood ran so fast, th' other so soft, 760 
 Both from one head. Unto the rougher stream, 
 (Crown'd by that meadow's flow'ry diadem, 
 Where Doridon lay hurt) the cruel swain 
 Hurries the shepherdess, where having lain 
 Her in a boat like the cannows of Inde, 765 
 Some silly trough of wood, or some tree's rind, 
 Puts from the shore, and leaves the weeping strand, 
 Intends an act by water, which the land 
 Abhorr'd to bolster ; yea, the guiltless earth 
 Loath'd to be midwife to so vile a birth : 770 
 Which to relate I am enforc'd to wrong 
 The modest blushes of my maiden-song. 
 Then each fair nymph whom Nature doth endow 
 With beauty's cheek, crown'd with a shamefast 
 brow ; 
 
 Whose well-tun'd ears, chaste-object-loving eyne 775 
 
 Ne'er heard nor saw the works of Aretine ;* * An «*- 
 
 scene Iti] 
 
 Who ne'er came on the Cytherean shelf, poe t. 
 
 But is as true as Chastity itself ; 
 
 Where hated Impudence ne'er set her seed ; 
 
 Where lust lies not veil'd in a virgin's weed : 780 
 
 765. — Cannows, canoes. 
 769. — Bolster, support. 
 
 •jjj.—Cytkerean shelf, Cythera, a very rocky island lying off 
 the south-eastern extremity of Laconia, represented in the 
 Greek and Latin poets as one of the favourite residences of 
 Aphrodite. 
 
76 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I 
 
 Let her withdraw. Let each young shepherdling 
 Walk by, or stop his ear, the whilst I sing. 
 
 But ye, whose blood, like kids upon a plain, 
 Doth skip and dance lavoltas in each vein ; [785 
 Whose breasts are swolPn with the venerean game, 
 And warm yourselves at lust's alluring flame ; 
 Who dare to act as much as men dare think, 
 And wallowing lie within a sensual sink ; 
 Whose feigned gestures do entrap our youth 
 With an apparency of simple truth ; 790 
 Insatiate gulfs, in your defective part 
 By Art help Nature, and by Nature, Art : 
 Lend me your ears, and I will touch a string 
 Shall lull your sense asleep the while I sing. 
 
 But stay : methinks I hear something in me 795 
 That bids me keep the bounds of modesty ; 
 Says, " Each man's voice to that is quickly mov'd 
 Which of himself is best of all belov'd ; 
 By utt'ring what thou know'st less glory's got, 
 Than by concealing what thou knowest not." 800 
 If so, I yield to it, and set my rest 
 Rather to lose the bad than wrong the best. 
 My maiden-Muse flies the lascivious swains, 
 And scorns to soil her lines with lustful strains ; 
 Will not dilate (nor on her forehead bear 805 
 Immodesty's abhorred character) 
 
 784. — Lavoltas, romping waltzes. 
 
 801. — Set my rest, am determined, a metaphor from the once 
 fashionable game of primero. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 77 
 
 His shameless pryings, his undecent doings, 
 His curious searches, his respectless wooings ; 
 How that he saw — But what ? I dare not break it, 
 You safer may conceive than I dare speak it. 810 | 
 Yet verily had he not thought her dead, ' 
 Sh'ad lost, ne'er to be found, her maidenhead. 
 
 The rougher stream, loathing a thing compacted 
 Of so great shame should on his flood be acted, 
 (According to our times not well allow'd 815 
 In others what he in himself avow'd) 
 Bent hard his forehead, furrow'd up his face, 
 And danger led the way the boat did trace. 
 And as within a landskip that doth stand 
 Wrought by the pencil of some curious hand, 820 
 We may descry, here meadow, there a wood ; 
 Here standing ponds, and there a running flood ; 
 Here on some mount a house of pleasure vanted, 
 Where once the roaring cannon had been planted ; 
 There on a hill a swain pipes out the day, 825 
 Out-braving all the quiristers of May ; 
 A huntsman here follows his cry of hounds, 
 Driving the hare along the fallow grounds, 
 Whilst one at hand seeming the sport t' allow, [830 
 Follows the hounds and careless leaves the plough ; 
 There in another place some high-rais'd land, 
 In pride bears out her breasts unto the strand ; 
 
 823. — Vanted, made an ostentatious display. 
 
 826.— Quiristers, choristers, constantly used for birds. 
 
78 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Here stands a bridge, and there a conduit head ; 
 
 Here round a Maypole some the measures tread ; 
 
 There boys the truant play and leave their book ; 835 
 
 Here stands an angler with a baited hook ; 
 
 There for a stag one lurks within a bough ; 
 
 Here sits a maiden milking of her cow ; 
 
 There on a goodly plain (by time thrown down) 
 
 Lies buried in his dust some ancient town), 840 
 
 Who now invillaged there's only seen 
 
 In his vast ruins what his state had been ; 
 
 And of all these in shadows so express'd 
 
 Make the beholders' eyes to take no rest : 
 
 So for the swain the flood did mean to him 845 
 
 To show in Nature (not by Art to limn) 
 
 A tempest's rage : his furious waters threat, 
 
 Some on this shore, some on the other beat. 
 
 Here stands a mountain where was once a dale ; 
 
 There where a mountain stood is now a vale. 850 
 
 Here flows a billow, there another meets ; 
 
 Each, on each side the skiff, unkindly greets. 
 
 The waters underneath 'gan upward move, 
 
 Wond'ring what stratagems were wrought above : 
 
 Billows that miss'd the boat still onward thrust, 855 
 
 And on the cliffs, as swoll'n with anger, burst. 
 
 All these, and more, in substance so express'd, 
 
 Made the beholder's thoughts to take no rest. 
 
 Horror in triumph rid upon the waves ; 
 
 And all the Furies from their gloomy caves 860 
 
 Came hovering o'er the boat, summon'd each sense 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 79 
 
 Before the fearful bar of conscience ; 
 Were guilty all, and all condemned were 
 To undergo their horrors with despair. 
 
 What Muse ? what Power ? or what thrice sacred 
 
 herse, 865 
 That lives immortal in a well-tun'd verse, 
 Can lend me such a sight that I might see 
 A guilty conscience' true anatomy ; 
 That well-kept register wherein is writ 
 All ills men do, all goodness they omit ? 870 
 His pallid fears, his sorrows, his affrightings ; 
 His late-wish'd had-I-wists, remorseful bitings ; 
 His many tortures, his heartrending pain ; 
 How were his griefs composed in one chain, 
 And he by it let down into the seas, 875 
 Or through the centre to th' Antipodes ? 
 He might change climates, or be barr'd Heaven's 
 
 face ; 
 
 Yet find no salve, nor ever change his case. 
 Fears, sorrows, tortures, sad affrights, nor any, [880 
 Like to the conscience sting, though thrice as many ; 
 Yet all these torments by the swain were borne. 
 Whilst Death's grim visage lay upon the storm. 
 
 But as when some kind nurse doth long time keep 
 Her pretty baby at suck, whom fall'n asleep 
 She lays down in his cradle, stints his cry 885 
 With many a sweet and pleasing lullaby ; 
 Whilst the sweet child, not troubled with the shock, 
 As sweetly slumbers, as his nurse doth rock : 
 
8o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 So lay the maid, th' amazed swain sat weeping, 
 
 And Death in her was dispossess'd by sleeping. 890 
 
 The roaring voice of winds, the billows' raves, 
 
 Nor all the mutt'ring of the sullen waves 
 
 Could once disquiet, or her slumber stir; 
 
 But lull'd her more asleep than waken'd her. 
 
 Such are their states whose souls from foul offence 895 
 
 Enthroned sit in spotless innocence. 
 
 Where rest my Muse ; till (jolly shepherds' swains) 
 
 Next morn with pearls of dew bedecks our plains 
 
 We'll fold our flocks, then in fit time go on 
 
 To tune mine oaten pipe for Doridon. 900 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Si 
 
 THE THIRD SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 The shepherd's swain here singing on, 
 Tells of the cure of Doridon : 
 And then unto the waters' falls 
 Chanteth the rustic Pastorals. 
 
 Now had the sun, in golden chariot hurl'd, 
 Twice bid good-morrow to the nether world ; 
 And Cynthia, in her orb and perfect round, 
 Twice view'd the shadows of the upper ground ; 
 Twice had the day-star usher'd forth the light ; 5 
 And twice the evening-star proclaim'd the night ; 
 Ere once the sweet-fac'd boy (now all forlorn) 
 Came with his pipe to resalute the morn. 
 
 When grac'd by time (unhappy time the while) 
 The cruel swain (who ere knew swain so vile ?) 10 
 Had struck the lad, in came the wat'ry nymph 
 To raise from sound poor Doridon (the imp 
 
 1. — HurVd % wheeled. 12. — Sound, swoon. 
 
 12. — Imp, a graft or shoot inserted into a tree, used meta- 
 phorically for offspring, a child. 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Whom Nature seem'd to have selected forth 
 To be ingrafted on some stock of worth ;) 
 And the maid help, but since "to dooms of Fate 15 
 Succour, though ne'er so soon, comes still too late," 
 She rais'd the youth, then with her arms enrings him, 
 And so with words of hope she homewards brings 
 him. 
 
 At door expecting him his mother sat, 
 Wond'ring her boy should stay from her so late ; 20 
 Framfrig for him unto herself excuses, 
 And with such thoughts gladly herself abuses : 
 As that her son, since day grew old and weak, 
 Stay'd with the maids to run at barley-break ; 
 Or that he cours'd a park with females fraught, 25 
 Which would not run except they might be caught ; 
 Or in the thickets laid some wily snare 
 To take the rabbit or the purblind hare ; 
 Or taught his dog to catch the climbing kid : 
 Thus shepherds do, and thus she thought he did. 30 
 " In things expected meeting with delay, 
 Though there be none, we frame some cause of stay. " 
 And so did she (as she who doth not so ?) 
 Conjecture Time unwing'd he came so slow. 
 But Doridon drew near, so did her grief : 35 
 " Ill-luck, for speed, of all things else is chief." 
 * Homer. For as the blind man* sung, " Time so provides, 
 That Joy goes still on foot, and Sorrow rides." 
 
 24 and 25. — Bar -ley '-break , and Course-a-pctrk, country games. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 33 
 
 Now when she saw (a woful sight) her son, 
 Her hopes then fail'd her, and her cries begun 40 
 To utter such a plaint, that scarce another, 
 Like this, ere came from any love-sick mother. 
 If man hath done this, Heaven, why mad'st thou 
 men ? 
 
 Not to deface thee in thy children, 
 
 But by the work the workman to adore ; 45 
 
 Framing that something which was nought before. 
 
 Aye me, unhappy wretch ! if that in things 
 
 Which are as we (save title) men fear kings, 
 
 That be their postures to the life limn'd on 
 
 Some wood as frail as they, or cut in stone, 50 
 
 " 'Tis death to stab : why then should earthly things 
 
 Dare to deface his form who formed kings ? 
 
 When the world was but in his infancy, 
 
 Revenge, desires unjust, vile jealousy, 
 
 Hate, envy, murder, all these six then reign 'd, 55 
 
 When but their half of men the world contain'd : 
 
 Yet but in part of these, those ruled then* 
 
 When now as many vices live as men. 
 
 Live they ? yes, live, I fear, to kill my son, 
 
 With whom my joys, my love, my hopes are done. 60 
 
 Cease, quoth the water's nymph, that led the swain ; 
 Though 'tis each mother's cause thus to complain, 
 Yet M abstinence in things we must profess 
 Which Nature fram'd for need, not for excess." 
 
 Since the least blood, drawn from the lesser part 65 
 Of any child, comes from the mother's heart, 
 
84 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 * Alluding to 
 our English 
 pronuncia- 
 tion and in- 
 different 
 ortho- 
 graphy. 
 
 * July took 
 his name from 
 Julius Csesar. 
 
 We cannot choose but grieve, except that we 
 
 Should be more senseless than the senseless tree, 
 
 Replied his mother. Do but cut the limb 
 
 Of any tree, the trunk will weep for him : 70 
 
 Rend the cold sycamore's* thin bark in two, 
 
 His name and tears would say, So love should do. 
 
 " That mother is all flint (than beasts less good) 
 
 Which drops no water when her child streams blood." 
 
 At this the wounded boy fell on his knee, 75 
 Mother, kind mother (said) weep not for me. 
 Why, I am well. Indeed I am : if you 
 Cease not to weep, my wound will bleed anew. 
 When I was promis'd first the light's fruition, 
 You oft have told me, r twas on this condition, So 
 That I should hold it with like rent and pain 
 As others do, and one time leave 't again. 
 Then, dearest mother, leave, oh leave to wail, 
 "Time will effect where tears can nought avail." 
 
 Herewith Marinda taking up her son, 85 
 Her hope, her love, her joy, her Doridon, 
 She thank'd the nymph for her kind succour lent, 
 Who straight tripp'd to her wat'ry regiment. 
 
 Down in a dell (where in that month* whose fame 
 Grows greater by the man who gave it name, 90 
 Stands many a well-pil'd cock of short sweet hay 
 That feeds the husband's neat each winter's day) 
 
 83. — Leave, cease. 
 
 92. —Husband* s neat, farmer's oxen. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 A mountain had his foot, and 'gan to rise 
 In stately height to parley with the skies. 
 And yet as blaming his own lofty gait, 95 
 Weighing the fickle props in things of state, 
 His head began to droop, and downwards bending, 
 Knock'd on that breast which gave it birth and 
 ending : 
 
 And lies so with an hollow hanging vaut, 
 
 As when some boy trying the somersault, IOO 
 
 Stands on his head, and feet, as he did lie 
 
 To kick against earth's spangled canopy ; 
 
 When seeing that his heels are of such weight, 
 
 That he cannot obtain their purpos'd height, 
 
 Leaves any more to strive ; and thus doth say, 105 
 
 What now I cannot do, another day 
 
 May well effect : it cannot be denied 
 
 I show'd a will to act, because I tried : 
 
 The Scornfull-hill men calPd him, who did scorn 
 
 So to be call'd, by reason he had borne 1 10 
 
 No hate to greatness, but a mind to be 
 
 The slave of greatness through humility : 
 
 For had his mother Nature thought it meet, 
 
 He meekly bowing would have kiss'd her feet. 
 
 Under the hollow hanging of this hill 115 
 There was a cave cut out by Nature's skill : 
 Or else it seem'd the mount did open 's breast, 
 That all might see what thoughts he there possess'd. 
 
 99.— Vaut, vault. 
 
 105. — Leaves, ceases. 
 
86 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Whose gloomy entrance was environed round [120 
 With shrubs that cloy ill husbands' meadow-ground : 
 The thick -grown hawthorn and the binding briar, 
 The holly that out-dares cold winter's ire : 
 Who all entwin'd, each limb with limb did deal, 
 That scarce a glimpse of light could inward steal. 
 An uncouth place, fit for an uncouth mind, 1 25 
 
 That is as heavy as that cave is blind. 
 Here liv'd a man his hoary hairs call'd old, 
 Upon whose front time many years had told ; 
 Who, since Dame Nature in him feeble grew, 
 And he unapt to give the world ought new, 130 
 The secret power of herbs that grow on mould, 
 Sought out, to cherish and relieve the old. 
 
 Hither Marinda all in haste came running, 
 And with her tears desir'd the old man's cunning ; 
 When this good man (as goodness still is presfc 135 
 At all assays to help a wight distress'd) 
 As glad and willing was to ease her son, 
 As she would ever joy to see it done ; 
 And giving her a salve in leaves up-bound, 
 And she directed how to cure the wound, 140 
 With thanks, made homewards (longing still to see 
 Th' effect of this good hermit's surgery). 
 There carefully, her son laid on a bed 
 (Enriched with the blood he on it shed), 
 
 135. — Still, constantly. Prest, ready. 
 
 136. — Assays t essays, trials. 
 
Song 3-1 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 8? 
 
 She washes, dresses, binds his wound (yet sore) 145 
 That griev'd it could weep blood for him no more. 
 
 Now had the glorious sun ta'en up his inn, 
 And all the lamps of heav'n enlighten'd been ; 
 Within the gloomy shades of some thick spring 
 Sad Philomel 'gan on the hawthorn sing 1 50 
 
 (Whilst every beast at rest was lowly laid), 
 The outrage done upon a silly maid. 
 All things were hush'd ; each bird slept on his bough ; 
 And night gave rest to him day tir'd at plough ; 
 Each beast, each bird, and each day-toiling 
 wight 7 " 155 
 Receiv'd the comfort of the silent night ; 
 Free from the gripes of sorrow every one, 
 Except poor Philomel and Doridon ; 
 She on a thorn sings sweet though sighing strains ; 
 He on a couch more soft, more sad complains ; 160 
 Whose in-pent thoughts him long time having pain'd, 
 He sighing, wept, and weeping thus complain'd : 
 
 Sweet Philomela (then he heard her sing), 
 I do not envy thy sweet carolling, 
 But do admire thee that each even and morrow 165 
 Canst carelessly thus sing away thy sorrow. 
 Would I could do so too ! and ever be 
 In all my woes still imitating thee : 
 But I may not attain to that, for then 
 Such most unhappy, miserable men 1 70 
 
 147. — Inn s lodging. 149. — Springy wood. 
 
88 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Would strive with Heaven, and imitate the sun, 
 Whose golden beams in exhalation, 
 Though drawn from fens, or other grounds impure, 
 Turn all to fructifying nouriture ; 
 When we draw nothing by our sun-like eyes, 175 
 That ever turns to mirth, but miseries. 
 Would I had never seen, except that she 
 Who made me wish so, love to look on me. 
 Had Colin Clout yet liv'd (but he is gone), 
 That best on earth could tune a lover's moan, 180 
 W^hose sadder tones enforc'd the rocks to weep, 
 And laid the greatest griefs in quiet sleep : 
 Who when he sung (as I would do to mine) 
 His truest loves to his fair Rosaline, 
 Entic'd each shepherd's ear to hear him play, 185 
 And rapt with wonder, thus admiring say ; 
 Thrice happy plains (if plains thrice happy may be) 
 Where such a shepherd pipes to such a lady. 
 Who made the lasses long to sit down near him ; 
 And woo'd the rivers from their springs to heat 
 him. 19° 
 Heaven rest thy soul (if so a swain may pray) 
 And as thy works live here, live there for aye. 
 Meanwhile (unhappy) I shall still complain 
 Love's cruel wounding of a seely swain. 
 
 Two nights thus pass'd : the lily-handed Morn 195 
 Saw Phcebus stealing dew from Ceres' corn. 
 
 179. — Calin Clout, Spenser. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 89 
 
 The mounting lark (day's herald) got on wing, 
 Bidding each bird choose out his bough and sing. 
 The lofty treble sung the little wren ; * A descrip- 
 
 Robin the mean, that best of all loves men ; 200 mus i ca i 
 The nightingale the tenor, and the thrush birds* ° f 
 
 The counter-tenor sweetly in a bush. 
 And that the music might be full in parts, 
 Birds from the groves flew with right willing hearts ; 
 But (as it seem'd) they thought (as do the 
 swains, 205 
 Which tune their pipes on sack'd Hibernia's plains) 
 There should some' droning part be, therefore will'd 
 Some bird to fly into a neighb'ring field, 
 In embassy unto the King of Bees, 
 To aid his partners on the flowers and trees 210 
 Who, condescending, gladly flew along 
 To bear the bass to his well-tuned song. 
 The crow was willing they should be beholding 
 For his deep voice, but being hoarse with scolding, 
 He thus lends aid ; upon an oak doth climb, 21 5 
 And nodding with his head, so keepeth time. 
 
 O true delight, enharbouring the breasts 
 Of those sweet creatures with the plumy crests. 
 Had Nature unto man such simpl'ess given, 
 He would, like birds, be far more near to heaven. 220 
 But Doridon well knew (who knows no less ?) 
 M Man's compounds have o'erthrown his simpleness." 
 
 211. - Condescending, agreeing. 
 
90 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book f. 
 
 Noontide the Morn had woo'd, and she 'gan yield, 
 When Doridon (made ready for the field) 
 Goes sadly forth (a woful shepherd's lad) 225 
 Drowned in tears, his mind with grief yclad, 
 To ope his fold and let his lambkins out, 
 (Full jolly flock they seem'd, a well-fleec'd rout) 
 Which gently walk'd before, he sadly pacing, [230 
 Both guides and follows them towards their grazing. 
 When from a grove the wood-nymphs held full dear, 
 Two heavenly voices did entreat his ear, 
 And did compel his longing eyes to see 
 What happy wight enjoy'd such harmony ; 
 Which joined with five more, and so made 
 seven, 235 
 Would parallel in mirth the spheres of heaven. 
 To have a sight at first he would not press, 
 For fear to interrupt such happiness ; 
 But kept aloof the thick-grown shrubs among, 
 Yet so as he might hear this wooing song : 240 
 
 F. Fie, shepherd's swain, why sit'st thou all alone, 
 Whilst other lads are sporting on the leys ? 
 
 R, Joy may have company, but grief hath none : 
 Where pleasure never came, sports cannot please. 
 
 F. Yet may you please to grace our this day's 
 sport, 245 
 Though not an actor, yet a looker-on. 
 
 228. — Rout) company. 
 
 242. — Leys, leas or pastures. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 9i 
 
 R. A looker-on, indeed ! so swains of sort, 
 
 Cast low, take joy to look whence they are thrown ? 
 R. Seek joy and find it. 
 
 Both. 
 
 Then both agree in one, 
 
 Sorrow doth hate 
 
 To have a mate ; 
 " True grief is still alone." 
 
 F. Sad swain, arede (if that a maid may ask) 255 , 
 What cause so great effects of grief hath 
 
 R. Alas ! Love is not hid, it wears no mask ; 
 
 To view 'tis by the face conceiv'd and brought. 
 F. The cause I grant : the causer is not learn'd : 
 
 Your speech I do entreat about this task. 260 
 R. If that my heart were seen, 'twould be discern'd ; 
 And Fida's name found graven on the cask. 
 F. Hath Love young Remond moved ? 
 R. 'Tis Fida that is loved. 
 
 Grief doth not mind it. 
 
 250 
 
 r 
 
 wrought ? 
 
 Both. 
 
 Although 'tis said that no men 
 Will with their hearts, 
 
 265 
 
 255. -Arcde> explain. 
 
 262. — Cask) casket, 
 
92 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Or goods' chief parts 
 Trust either seas or women. 
 
 F. How may a maiden be assur'd of love, 
 
 Since falsehood late in every swain excelleth ? 270 
 
 R. When protestations fail, time may approve 
 
 Where true affection lives, where falsehood 
 dwelleth. 
 
 F. The truest cause elects a judge as true : 
 
 Fie, how my sighing my much loving telleth. 
 R. Your love is fix'd in one whose heart to you 275 
 Shall be as constancy, which ne'er rebelleth. 
 F. None other shall have grace. 
 R. None else in my heart place. 
 
 Both, 
 
 Go, shepherds' swains and wive all, 
 
 For love and kings 280 
 Are two like things 
 
 Admitting no co-rival. 
 
 As when some malefactor judg'd to die 
 
 For his offence, his execution nigh, 
 
 Casteth his sight on states unlike to his, 285 
 
 And weighs his ill by others' happiness : 
 
 So Doridon thought every state to be 
 
 Further from him, more near felicity. 
 
 O blessed sight, where such concordance meets, 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 93 
 
 Where truth with truth, and love with liking 
 greets. 290 
 
 Had (quoth the swain) the Fates giv'n me some 
 measure 
 
 Of true delight's inestimable treasure, 
 I had been fortunate : but now so weak 
 My bankrupt heart will be enforc'd to break. 
 Sweet love, that draws on earth a yoke so even ; 295 
 Sweet life, that imitates the bliss of heaven ; 
 Sweet death they needs must have, who so unite 
 That two distinct make one hermaphrodite : 
 Sweet love, swe^t life, sweet death, that so do meet 
 On earth ; in death, in heaven be ever sweet ! 300 
 Let all good wishes ever wait upon you, 
 And happiness as handmaid tending on you. 
 Your loves within one centre meeting have ! 
 One hour your deaths, your corps possess one 
 grave ! [305 
 Your names still green, (thus doth a swain implore) 
 Till time and memory shall be no more ! 
 
 Herewith the couple hand-in-hand arose, 
 And took the way which to the sheep-walk goes. 
 And whilst that Doridon their gait look'd on, 
 His dog disclos'd him, rushing forth upon 310 
 A well-fed deer, that trips it o'er the mead 
 As nimbly as the wench did whilom tread 
 
 312. — The wenc/i, Camilla, one of the swift-footed huntresses 
 of Diana (Virgil, ALneid, vii. 803, etc.). 
 
94 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 On Ceres' dangling ears, or shaft let go 
 
 By some fair nymph that bears Diana's bow. 
 
 When turning head, he not a foot would stir, 315 
 
 Scorning the barking of a shepherd's cur : 
 
 So should all swains as little weigh their spite, 
 
 Who at their songs do bawl, but dare not bite. 
 
 Remond, that by the dog the master knew, 
 Came back, and angry bade him to pursue. 320 
 Dory (quoth he), if your ill-tutor'd dog 
 Have nought of awe, then let him have a clog. 
 Do you not know this seely timorous deer, 
 (As usual to his kind) hunted whilere 
 The sun not ten degrees got in the signs, 325 
 Since to our maids, here gathering columbines, 
 She weeping came, and with her head low laid 
 In Fida's lap, did humbly beg for aid. 
 Whereat unto the hounds they gave a check, 
 And saving her, might spy about her neck 330 
 A collar hanging, and (as yet is seen) 
 These words in gold wrought on a ground of green : 
 " Maidens, since 'tis decreed a maid shall have me, 
 Keep me till he shall kill me that must save me." 
 But whence she came, or who the words concern, 335 
 We neither know nor can of any learn. 
 Upon a pallat she doth lie at night, 
 Near Fida's bed, nor will she from her sight : 
 Upon her walks she all the day attends, 
 
 337. — Pallat, straw bed. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 95 
 
 And by her side she trips where'er she wends. 340 
 
 Remond (replied the swain) if I have wrong'd 
 Fida in ought which unto her belong'd, 
 I sorrow for't, and truly do protest, 
 As yet I never heard speech of this beast : 
 Nor was it with my will ; or if it were, 345 
 Is it not lawful we should chase the deer, 
 That breaking our enclosures every morn 
 Are found at feed upon our crop of corn ? 
 Yet had I known this deer, I had not wrong'd 
 Fida in ought which unto her belong'd. 350 
 
 I think no less, quoth Remond ; but, I pray, 
 Whither walks Doridon this holy-day ? 
 Come drive your sheep to their appointed feeding, 
 And make you one at this our merry meeting. 
 Full many a shepherd with his lovely lass 355 
 Sit telling tales upon the clover grass. 
 There is the merry shepherd of the Hole, 
 Thenot, Piers, Nilkin, Duddy, Hobbinoll, 
 Alexis, Silvan, Teddy of the Glen, 
 Rowly and Perigot here by the Fen, 360 
 With many more (I cannot reckon all) 
 That meet to solemnize this festival. 
 
 I grieve not at their mirth, said Doridon : 
 Yet had there been of feasts not any one 
 Appointed or commanded, you will say, 365 
 "Where there's content 'tis ever holy-day." 
 
 Leave further talk (quoth Remond) let's be gone, 
 I'll help you with your sheep, the time draws on. 
 
96 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Fida will call the hind, and come with us. 
 
 Thus went they on, and Remond did discuss 370 
 Their cause of meeting, till they won with pacing 
 The circuit chosen for the maidens' tracing. 
 It was a roundel seated on a plain, 
 That stood as sentinel unto the main, 
 Environ'd round with trees and many an arbour, 375 
 Wherein melodious birds did nightly harbour, 
 And on a bough within the quick'ning spring, 
 Would be a-teaching of their young to sing ; 
 Whose pleasing notes the tired swain have made 
 To steal a nap at noontide in the shade. 380 
 Nature herself did there in triumph ride, 
 And made that place the ground of all her pride. 
 Whose various flow'rs deceiv'd the rasher eye 
 In taking them for curious tapestry. 
 A silver spring forth of a rock did fall, 385 
 That in a drought did serve to water all. 
 Upon the edges of a grassy bank 
 A tuft of trees grew circling in a rank, 
 As if they seem'd their sports to gaze upon, 
 Or stood as guard against the wind and sun. 390 
 So fair, so fresh, so green, so sweet a ground 
 The piercing eyes of Heaven yet never found. 
 Here Doridon all ready met doth see, 
 (Oh, who would not at such a meeting be ?) 
 
 372. - 
 
 373. - 
 
 , — Tracing, dancing. 
 . — Roundel, a round space of ground. 
 
Song 3 ] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 97 
 
 Where he might doubt, who gave to other grace, 395 
 
 Whether the place the maids, or maids the place. 
 
 Here 'gan the reed and merry bagpipe play, 
 
 Shrill as a thrush upon a morn of May, 
 
 (A rural music for an heavenly train) 
 
 And every shepherdess danc'd with her swain. 400 
 
 As when some gale of wind doth nimbly take 
 A fair white lock of wool, and with it make 
 Some pretty driving ; here it sweeps the plain ; 
 There stays, here hops, there mounts, and turns 
 again ; 
 
 Yet all so quick, that none so soon can say 405 
 That now it stops, or leaps, or turns away : 
 So was their dancing : none look'd thereupon, 
 But thought theiq several motions to be one. 
 
 A crooked measure was their first election, 
 Because all crooked tends to best perfection. 410 
 And as I ween fhis often bowing measure 
 Was chiefly framed for the women's pleasure. 
 Though like the rib, they crooked are and bending, 
 Yet to the best of forms they aim their ending. 
 Next in an (I) their measure made a rest, 415 
 Showing when love is plainest it is best. 
 Then in a (Y) which thus doth love commend, 
 Making of two at first, one in the end. 
 And lastly closing in a round do enter, 
 Placing the lusty shepherds in the centre : 420 
 About the swains they dancing seem'd to roll, 
 As other planets round the heav'nly pole, 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book r. 
 
 Who by their sweet aspect or chiding frown, 
 Could raise a shepherd up, or cast him down. 
 Thus were they circled till a swain came near, 425 
 And sent this song unto each shepherd's ear : 
 The note and voice so sweet, that for such mirth 
 The gods would leave the heavens, and dwell on earth. 
 
 Happy are you so enclosed ; 
 
 May the maids be still disposed 430 
 
 In their gestures and their dances, 
 So to grace you with entwining, 
 That Envy wish in such combining, 
 
 Fortune's smile with happy chances. 
 
 Here it seems as if the Graces 435 
 Measur'd out the plain in traces, 
 
 In a shepherdess disguising. 
 Are the spheres so nimbly turning ? 
 \yand'ring lamps in heaven burning, 
 
 To the eye so much enticing ? 440 
 
 Yes, Heaven means to take these thither, 
 And add one joy to see both dance together. 
 
 Gentle nymphs, be not refusing, 
 Love's neglect is time's abusing, 
 
 They and beauty are but lent you, 445 
 Take the one and keep the other : 
 Love keeps fresh what age doth smother : 
 
 Beauty gone you will repent you. 
 
Song 'Britannia's Taftorahi 
 
 99 
 
 T will be fed wbenyee b&ne proued, 
 Neuer Sw&incs more truely loued i 
 
 O then fiyeaj/i nice bebamour. 
 Pilty faine would (as her datie) 
 Be attending flill on beantie 
 
 Let her not be out offauour. 
 
 Di£kinc is novo fa much rewarded, 
 That Piety wsepcsjincejhse x unregarded. 
 
 The meafure and the Song here being ended i 
 
 Each S vraine his thoughts thus to his Loue commended 
 
 The firit pcefeucs his Dogge 9 with thefc: 
 
 When I myjlockenecreyou doe keepe, 
 And bid my i^o^gegoe take a Sbecpe. 
 He cleane mijlaneswhat 1 bid doe, 
 And bends his pace JIM towards yea. 
 Poere wretch >, be know es more care 1 
 T igetyoity then a feely Jbecpe. {keepe 
 
 The fecond, his Pipe> with thefef 
 
 Bid me to fxgffaire Maide) my SongJhaB proue 
 Tljere ne'er was truer Pipe Jung truer Loue, 
 
 The 
 
103 
 
 Uritamia'iTa/lora/s. Book l 
 
 The third 5 apaireof Gloues, thus: 
 
 Thefe ml keefepwr bands from fatzningy 
 Whilji the Same is fwffily terntogt 
 Etst vtbecananynxile deutfe 
 Tc fiield my Heart from your fairs Eyes ? 
 
 Th« foarth, an jfaagram. 
 
 M A I D E M 
 
 A ix>Me m. 
 
 Maidens fhsuld he ay ding Me*, 
 And for httegwe hue agrn : v g 
 Leatne this leffan from your Mother, \ 
 One goodm/b requires another. lie 
 They defer -us their -names hefi^ when lira?? 
 Maidesmofi wittingly ayd Men. 
 
 The fife, a Hi^, with a Pidurc m a Icwell on it, 
 
Song Britannia's 'Pa/lor a Is* j 101 
 
 The f\xt,aNofegay of Rofes, with 
 a Nettle ink. 
 
 The fcauenth, a Girdle. 
 
102 | 
 
 'Briimwa's TafiGrds* Book 
 
 Von hone the substance., and I line. 
 
 3utby the shadowe whichjoujiue 
 I Substance and sbaJowcthotb arc dud; 
 I Arljjmen of me to mm butjou j 
 [" Then whence, u lift butfrvm tbatjtarik 
 1 Which is possessor of the hart. \ 
 
 L meUe maidtn best of any 
 OJcurflaines ibcigbtbrkeasmaig T) 
 Yaile to hue, and kaiu Jenysini/ r*^> 
 
 $$t mq~jneA ?pvqs pis^oo] oTuj £ tuttei k^lettJ^fcf a^T^ 
 
 ni tip siq ?(f AviujX Jivm ncjx 
 
 Tszjp jjnjvjf woqm npfafli; 
 
 3 
 
 [ fmd^moj jr?q si (pnat ipitn qylaj^ 
 • ?fhqii^xi jqpjnfqs- j]L}s m7j)iuy{ 
 
 SvcFa^iCi,scfynttiJeaturi 
 ( k hdestjjurcst sweetes* ereanir? ^ 
 jfeiur y'etwas j'ound.l'uc yuinfT^ 
 
 0 dienlettm^ ^lajnles te mc'uirf? 
 Trust aslepbcardtbjitgbjf mtanesF^ 
 T 'mA is lest when sbte u ffaweTF^ 
 
 1 hue. /u?t,u>i&?(>trr j r mtestiiyj~T^ > 
 Vaytb isjdvth irithiut p jtiStinJ~~^ > 
 Time f all tbirigss dctbinbmtt ~~^ > 
 R enders eatb desert bis merriitT ^ 
 ifj.jdik in me, as ncc 
 
 D tub tig iyme n/re wjnne aire/mag) 
 
104 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 THE FOURTH SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 Fida's distress, the hind is slain, 
 Yet from her ruins lives again. 
 Riot's description next I rhyme ; 
 Then Aletheia, and old Time : 
 And lastly, from this song I go, 
 "aving describ'd the Vale of Woe. 
 
 Happy ye days of old, when every waste 
 Was like a Sanctuary to the chaste ; 
 When incests, rapes, adulteries, were not known ; 
 All pure as blossoms which are newly blown. 
 Maids were as free from spots, and soils within, 5 
 As most unblemish'd in the outward skin. 
 Men every plain and cottage did afford, 
 As smooth in deeds, as they were fair of word. 
 Maidens with men as sisters with their brothers, [10 
 And men with maids convers'd as with their mothers ; 
 Free from suspicion, or the rage of blood. 
 Strife only reign'd, for all striv'd to be good. 
 But then as little wrens but newly fledge, 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 105 
 
 First, by their nests hop up and down the hedge ; 
 
 Then one from bough to bough gets up a tree : 15 
 
 His fellow noting his agility, 
 
 Thinks he as well may venture as the other, 
 
 So flushing from one spray unto another, 
 
 Gets to the top, and then embolden'd flies, 
 
 Unto an height past ken of human eyes : 20 
 
 So time brought worse, men first desir'd to talk ; 
 
 Then came suspect ; and then a private walk ; 
 
 Then by consent appointed times of meeting, 
 
 Where most securely each might kiss his sweeting ; 
 
 Lastly, with lusts their panting breasts so swell, 25 
 
 They came to But to what I blush to tell, 
 
 And enter'd thus, rapes used were of all, 
 
 Incest, adultery, held as venial : 
 
 The certainty in doubtful balance rests, 
 
 If beasts did learn of men, or men of beasts. 30 
 
 Had they not learn'd of man who was their king, 
 
 So to insult upon an underling, 
 
 They civilly had spent their lives' gradation, 
 
 As meek and mild as in their first creation ; 
 
 Nor had th' infections of infected minds 35 
 
 So alter'd nature, and disorder'd kinds, 
 
 Fida had been less wretched, I more glad, 
 
 That so true love so true a progress had. 
 
 When Remond left her (Remond then unkind) 
 Fida went down the dale to seek the hind ; 40 
 
 18. — Flushing, flying out suddenly. 
 
106 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 And found her taking soil within a flood : 
 Whom when she call'd straight follow'd to the wood. 
 Fida, then wearied, sought the cooling shade, 
 And found an arbour by the shepherds made 
 To frolic in (when Sol did hottest shine) 45 
 With cates which were far cleanlier than fine ; 
 For in those days men never us'd to feed 
 So much for pleasure as they did for need. 
 Enriching then the arbour down she sat her ; 
 Where many a busy bee came flying at her : 50 
 Thinking when she for air her breasts discloses, 
 That there had grown some tuft of damask roses, 
 And that her azure veins which then did swell, 
 Were conduit-pipes brought from a living well ; 
 Whose liquor might the world enjoy for money, 55 
 Bees would be bankrupt ; none would care for honey 
 The hind lay still without (poor silly creature, 
 How like a woman art thou fram'd by Nature ? 
 Timorous, apt to tears, wily in running, 
 Caught best when force is intermix'd with cunning) 60 
 Lying thus distant, different chances meet them, 
 jAnd with a fearful object Fate doth greet them. 
 Description Something appear'd, which seem'd, far off, a man 
 In stature, habit, gait, proportion : 
 But when their eyes their objects' masters were, 65 
 And it for stricter censure came more near, 
 By all his properties one might well guess, 
 Than of a man, he sure had nothing less. 
 
 41.- -Taking soil, a term in hunting for taking water. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 107 
 
 For verily since old Deucalion's flood, 
 Earth's slime did ne'er produce a viler brood. 7° 
 Upon the various earth's embroidered gown 
 There is a weed upon whose head grows down ; 
 Sow-thistle 'tis yclept, whose downy wreath, 
 If any one can blow off at a breath, 
 We deem her for a maid : such was his hair, 75 
 Ready to shed at any stirring air. 
 His ears were strucken deaf when he came nigh, 
 To hear the widow's or the orphan's cry ; 
 His eyes encircled with a bloody chain, 
 With poring in the blood of bodies slain ; 80 
 His mouth exceeding wide, from whence did fly 
 Vollies of execrable blasphemy, 
 Banning the heavens, and he that rideth on them, 
 Dar'd vengeance to the teeth to fall upon him : 
 Like Scythian wolves, or men* of wit bereaven, 85 * Men of 
 Which howl and shoot against the lights of heaven. fgfeTt the** 
 His hands (if hands they were) like some dead stars, 
 corse, 
 
 With digging up his buried ancestors ; 
 
 Making his father's tomb and sacred shrine 
 
 The trough wherein the hog-herd fed his swine. 90 
 
 And as that beast hath legs (which shepherds fear, 
 
 Yclept a badger, which our lambs doth tear) 
 
 One long, the other short, that when he runs 
 
 Upon the plains, he halts ; but when he wons 
 
 94.— Wons % dwells. 
 
io8 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 On craggy rocks, or steepy hills, we see 95 
 
 None runs more swift, nor easier than he : 
 
 Such legs the monster had, one sinew shrunk, 
 
 That in the plains he reel'd, as being drunk ; 
 
 And halted in the paths to virtue tending, 
 
 And therefore never durst be that way bending : 100 
 
 But when he came on carved monuments, 
 
 Spiring colosses, and high-raised rents, 
 
 He pass'd them o'er, quick, as the Eastern wind 
 
 Sweeps through a meadow ; or a nimble hind, 
 
 Or satyr on a lawn, or skipping roe, 1 05 
 
 Or well-wing'd shaft forth of a Parthian bow. 
 
 His body made (still in consumptions rife) 
 
 A miserable prison for a life. 
 
 Riot he hight ; whom some curs'd fiend did raise, 
 When like a chaos were the nights and days : no 
 Got and brought up in the Cimmerian clime, 
 Where sun nor moon, nor days, nor nights do time : 
 As who should say, they scorn'd to show their faces 
 To such a fiend should seek to spoil the Graces. 
 
 At sight whereof Fida, nigh drown'd in fear, 115 
 Was clean dismay'd when he approached near ; 
 Nor durst she call the deer, nor whistling wind her, 
 Fearing her noise might make the monster find her ; 
 
 102. — Rents, fissures, crevices. 
 
 in.— Cimmerian clime, a land described by Homer {Odyssey, 
 xi. 14) as being beyond the ocean-stream, plunged in darkness, 
 and unblest by the rays of the sun. 
 
 117. — Wind her, make her turn. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 109 
 
 Who slyly came, for he had cunning learn'd him, 
 And seiz'd upon the hind ere she discern'd him. 120 
 Oh, how she striv'd and stiuggl'd ; every nerve 
 Is press'd at all assays a life to serve : 
 Yet soon we lose what we might longer keep 
 Were not prevention commonly asleep. 
 Maids, of this monster's brood be fearful all ; 125 
 What to the hind may hap to you befall. 
 Who with her feet held up instead of hands. 
 And tears which pity from the rock commands, 
 She sighs, and shrieks, and weeps, and looks upon 
 him : [130 
 Alas ! she sobs, and many"a groan throws on him ; 
 With plaints which might abate a tyrant's knife 
 She begs for pardon, and entreats for life. 
 The hollow caves resound her moanings near it, 
 That heart was flint which did not grieve to hear it ; 
 The high-topp'd firs which on that mountain keep, 135 
 Have ever since that time been seen to weep. 
 The owl till then, 'tis thought, full well could sing, 
 And tune her voice to every bubbling spring : 
 But when she heard those plaints, then forth she yode 
 Out of the covert of an ivy tod, 140 
 And hollowing for aid, so strain'd her throat, 
 That since she clean forgot her former note. 
 A little robin sitting on a tree, 
 In doleful notes bewail'd her tragedy. 
 
 139. — Yode, went. 
 
no BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Booki. 
 
 An asp, who thought him stout, could not dissemble, 
 But show'd his fear, and yet is seen to tremble. [145 
 Yet Cruelty was deaf, and had no sight 
 In ought which might gainsay the appetite : 
 But with his teeth rending her throat asunder, 
 Besprinkl'd with her blood the green grass under, 150 
 And gormandizing on her flesh and blood, 
 He, vomiting, returned to the wood. 
 
 Riot but newly gone, as strange a vision, 
 Though far more heavenly, came in apparition. 
 As that Arabian bird (whom all admire) 155 
 Her exequies prepar'd and funeral fire, 
 Burnt in a flame conceived from the sun, 
 And nourished with slips of cinnamon, 
 Out of her ashes hath a second birth, 
 And flies abroad, a wonderment on earth : 160 
 So from the ruins of this mangled creature 
 Arose so fair and so divine a feature, 
 
 Descrip- That Envy for her heart would dote upon her ; 
 
 uon of Truth. j[ eaven cou id no t choose but be enamour'd on her : 
 Were I a star, and she a second sphere, 165 
 I'd leave the other, and be fixed there. 
 Had fair Arachne wrought this maiden's hair, 
 When she with Pallas did for skill compare, 
 Minerva's work had never been esteem 'd, 
 But this had been more rare and highly deem'd ; 170 
 Yet gladly now she would reverse her doom, 
 Weaving this hair within a spider's loom. 
 Upon her forehead, as in glory, sat 
 
Song<.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. hi 
 
 Mercy and Majesty, for wond'ring at, 
 
 As pure and simple as Albania's snow, 175 
 
 Or milk-white swans which stem the streams of Po : 
 
 Like to some goodly foreland, bearing out 
 
 Her hair, the tufts which fring'd the shore about. 
 
 And lest the man which sought those coasts might slip, 
 
 Her eyes like stars did serve to guide the ship. 180 
 
 Upon her front (heaven's fairest promontory) 
 
 Delineated was th' authentic story 
 
 Of those elect, whose sheep at first began 
 
 To nibble by the springs of Canaan : 
 
 Out of whose sacred loins (brought by the stem 185 
 
 Of that sweet singer of Jerusalem) 
 
 Came the best Shepherd ever flocks did keep, 
 
 Who yielded up his life to save his sheep. 
 
 O thou Eterne ! by whom all beings move, 
 Giving the springs beneath, and springs above ; 190 
 Whose finger doth this universe sustain, 
 Bringing the former and the latter rain ; 
 Who dost with plenty meads and pastures fill, 
 By drops distill'd like dew on Hermon hill : 
 Pardon a silly swain, who (far unable 195 
 In that which is so rare, so admirable) 
 Dares on an oaten pipe thus meanly sing 
 Her praise immense, worthy a silver string. 
 And thou which through the desert and the deep, 
 Didst lead thy chosen like a flock of sheep : 200 
 As sometime by a star thou guided'st them, 
 Which fed upon the plains of Bethlehem ; 
 
112 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 So by thy sacred Spirit direct my quill, 
 
 When I shall sing ought of thy holy hill, 
 
 That times to come, when they my rhymes rehearse, 205 
 
 May wonder at me, and admire my verse : 
 
 For who but one rapt in celestial fire, 
 
 Can by his Muse to such a pitch aspire, 
 
 That from aloft he might behold and tell 
 
 Her worth, whereon an iron pen might dwell? 210 
 
 When she was born, Nature in sport began 
 To learn the cunning of an artisan, 
 And did vermilion with a white compose, 
 To mock herself and paint a damask rose. 
 But scorning Nature unto Art should seek, 215 
 She spilt her colours on this maiden's cheek. 
 Her mouth the gate from whence all goodness came, 
 Of power to give the dead a living name. 
 Her words embalmed in so sweet a breath, [220 
 That made them triumph both on Time and Death ; 
 Whose fragrant sweets, since the chameleon knew, 
 And tasted of, he to this humour grew, 
 Left other elements, held this so rare, 
 That since he never feeds on ought but air. 
 
 O had I Virgil's verse, or Tully's tongue, 225 
 Or raping numbers like the Thracian's song, 
 I have a theme would make the rocks to dance, 
 And surly beasts that through the desert prance, 
 Hie from their caves, and every gloomy den, 
 
 lib.— Racing, ravishing. The Thracian, Orpheus. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 113 
 
 To wonder at the excellence of men. 230 
 Nay, they would think their states for ever rais'd, 
 But once to look on one so highly prais'd. 
 
 Out of whose maiden breasts (which sweetly rise) 
 The seers suck'd their hidden prophecies : 
 And told that for her love in times to come, 235 
 Many should seek the crown of martyrdom, 
 By fire, by sword, by tortures, dungeons, chains, 
 By stripes, by famine, and a world of pains ; 
 Yet constant still remain (to her they lov'd) 
 Like Sion Mount, that cannot be remov'd. 240 
 Proportion on her arms and hands recorded, 
 The world for her no fitter place afforded. 
 Praise her who list, he still shall be her debtor : 
 For Art ne'er feign'd, nor Nature fram'd a better. 
 
 As when a holy father hath began 245 
 To offer sacrifice to mighty Pan, 
 Doth the request of every swain assume, 
 To scale the welkin in a sacred fume 
 Made by a widow'd turtle's loving mate, 
 Or lambkin, or some kid immaculate, 250 
 The off'ring heaves aloft, with both his hands, 
 Which all adore that near the altar stands : 
 So was her heavenly body comely rais'd 
 On two fair columns ; those that Ovid prais'd 
 In Julia's borrow'd name, compar'd with these, 255 
 Were crabs to apples of th' Hesperides ; 
 
 2$$.— Julia's borrow'd name, Corinna. 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Or stump-foot Vulcan in comparison 
 With all the height of true perfection. 
 
 Nature was here so lavish of her store, 
 That she bestow'd until she had no more ; 260 
 Whose treasure being weaken'd (by this dame) 
 She thrusts into the world so many lame. 
 
 The highest synod of the glorious sky 
 (I heard a wood-nymph sing ) sent Mercury 
 To take a survey of the fairest faces, 265 
 And to describe to them all women's graces ; 
 Who long time wand'ring in a serious quest, 
 Noting what parts by Beauty were possess'd : 
 At last he saw this maid, then thinking fit 
 To end his journey, here, nil-ultra, writ. 270 
 
 Fida in adoration kiss'd her knee, 
 And thus bespake : Hail glorious Deity ! 
 (If such thou art, and who can deem you less ?) 
 Whether thou reign'st queen of the wilderness, 
 Or art that goddess ('tis unknown to me) 275 
 Which from the ocean draws her pettigree : 
 Or one of those, who by the mossy banks 
 Of drizzling Helicon, in airy ranks 
 Tread roundelays upon the silver sands, 
 Whilst shaggy satyrs, tripping o'er the strands, 280 
 Stand still at gaze, and yield their senses thralls 
 To the sweet cadence of your madrigals : 
 Or of the fairy troop which nimbly play, 
 
 276. —Pettigree, pedigree. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 115 
 
 And by the springs dance out the summer's day, 
 Teaching the little birds to build their nests, 285 
 And in their singing how to keepen rests ; 
 Or one of those who, watching where a spring 
 Out of our Grandame Earth hath issuing, 
 With your attractive music woo the stream 
 (As men by fairies led, fall'n in a dream) 290 
 To follow you, which sweetly trilling wanders 
 In many mazes, intricate meanders ; 
 Till at the last, to mock th' enamour'd rill, 
 Ye bend your traces up some shady hill ; 
 And laugh to see the wave no further tread ; 295 
 But in a chafe run foaming on his head, 
 1 Being enforc'd a channel new to frame, 
 Leaving the other destitute of name. 
 If thou be one of these, or all, or more, 
 Succour a seely maid, that doth implore 300 
 Aid, on a bended heart, unfeign'd and meek, 
 As true as blushes of a maiden cheek. 
 
 Maiden, arise, replied the new-born maid : 
 " Pure Innocence the senseless stones will aid." 
 Nor of the fairy troop, nor Muses nine, 305 
 Nor am I Venus, nor of Proserpine : 
 But daughter to a lusty aged swain, 
 That cuts the green tufts off th' enamell'd plain ; 
 And with his scythe hath many a summer shorn 
 The plough'd-lands lab'ring with a crop of corn ; 310 
 Who from the cloud -dipt mountain by his stroke Descrip- 
 Fells down the lofty pine, the cedar, oak : tiou of 'I" ime « 
 
 i 2 
 
n6 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book i. 
 
 He opes the floo.d-gates as occasion is, 
 Sometimes on that man's land, sometimes on this. 
 When Verulam, a stately nymph of yore, 315 
 Did use to deck herself on Isis' shore, 
 One morn (among the rest) as there she stood, 
 Saw the pure channel all besmear'd with blood ; 
 Inquiring for the cause, one did impart, 
 Those drops came from her holy Alban's heart ; 320 
 Herewith in grief, she 'gan entreat my sire, 
 That Isis' stream, which yearly did attire 
 Those gallant fields in changeable array, 
 Might turn her course and run some other way, 
 Lest that her waves might wash away the guilt 325 
 From off their hands which Alban's blood had 
 spilt : 
 
 He condescended, and the nimble wave 
 
 Her fish no more within that channel drave : 
 
 But as a witness left the crimson gore 
 
 To stain the earth, as they their hands before. 330 
 
 He had a being ere there was a birth, 
 
 And shall not cease until the sea and earth, 
 
 And what they both contain, shall cease to be, 
 
 Nothing confines him but eternity. 
 
 By him the names of good men ever live, 335 
 
 Which short-liv'd men unto oblivion give : 
 
 And in forgetfulness he lets him fall, 
 
 That is no other man than natural : 
 
 327. — Condescended, agreed. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 117 
 
 'Tis he alone that rightly can discover 
 
 Who is the true, and who the feigned lover. 340 
 
 In summer's heat, when any swain to sleep 
 
 Doth more addict himself than to his sheep ; 
 
 And whilst the leaden god sits on his eyes, 
 
 If any of his fold or strays or dies, 
 
 And to the waking swain it be unknown, 345 
 
 Whether his sheep be dead, or stray'd, or stol'n ; 
 
 To meet my sire he bends his course in pain, 
 
 Either where some high hill surveys the plain ; 
 
 Or takes his step toward the flow'ry valleys, 
 
 Where Zephyr with the cowslip hourly dallies ; 350 
 
 Or to the groves, where birds from heat or weather, 
 
 Sit sweetly tuning of their notes together ; 
 
 Or to a mead a wanton river dresses 
 
 With richest collars of her turning esses ; 
 
 Or where the shepherds sit old stories telling, 355 
 
 Chronos, my sire, hath no set place of dwelling ; 
 
 But if the shepherd meet the aged swain, 
 
 He tells him of his sheep, or shows them slain. 
 
 So great a gift the sacred Powers of heaven 
 
 (Above all others) to "my sire have given, 360 
 
 That the abhorred stratagems of night, 
 
 Lurking in caverns from the glorious light, 
 
 By him (perforce) are from their dungeons hurl'd, 
 
 And show'd as monsters to the wond'ring world. 
 
 What mariner is he sailing upon 365 
 The wat'ry desert-clipping Albion, 
 Hears not the billows in their dances roar, 
 
u8 
 
 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Answer'd by echoes from the neighbour shore ? 
 
 To whose accord the maids trip from the downs, 
 
 And rivers dancing come, ycrown'd with towns, 370 
 
 All singing forth the victories of Time 
 
 Upon the monsters of the Western clime, 
 
 Whose horrid, damned, bloody plots would bring 
 
 Confusion on the laureate poet's king, 
 
 Whose hell-fed hearts devis'd how never more 375 
 
 A swan might singing sit on Isis' shore : 
 
 But croaking ravens, and the screech-owl's cry, 
 
 The fit musicians for a tragedy, 
 
 Should evermore be heard about her strand, 
 
 To fright all passengers from that sad land. 380 
 
 Long summer's days I on his worth might spend, 
 And yet begin again when I would end. 
 All ages since the first age first begun, 
 Ere they could know his worth their age was done : 
 Whose absence all the treasury of earth 385 
 Cannot buy out. From far-fam'd Tagus' birth, 
 Not all the golden gravel he treads over, 
 One minute past, that minute can recover. 
 I am his only child (he hath no other), 
 Clept Aletheia, born without a mother : 39c 
 Poor Aletheia, long despis'd of all, 
 Scarce Charity would lend an hospital 
 To give my month's cold watching one night's rest, 
 But in my room took in the miser's chest. 
 
 390. — Aletheia^ Greek 'AA^0eia, truth. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. if 9 
 
 In winter's time, when hardly fed the flocks, 395 
 And icicles hung dangling on the rocks ; 
 When Hyems bound the floods in silver chains, 
 And hoary frosts had candied all the plains ; 
 When every barn rung with the threshing flails, 
 And shepherds' boys for cold 'gan blow their nails: 400 
 Wearied with toil in seeking out some one 
 That had a spark of true devotion, 
 It was my chance (chance only helpeth need) 
 To find an house ybuilt for holy deed, 
 With goodly architect, and cloisters wide, 405 
 With gro\ T es and walks along a river's side ; 
 The place itself afforded admiration, 
 And every spray a theme of contemplation. 
 But (woe is me !) when knocking at the gate, Aletheia 
 I 'gan entreat an enterance thereat : 410 an e abbTy, e and 
 
 The porter ask'd my name : I told ; he swell'd, is denied. 
 And bade me thence : wherewith in grief repeiTcL 
 I sought for shelter to a ruin'd house, 
 Harb'ring the weasel, and the dust-bred mouse ; 
 And others none, except the two-kind bat, 415 
 Which all the day there melancholy sat : 
 Here sat I down, with wind and rain ybeat ; 
 Grief fed my mind, and did my body eat. 
 Yet Idleness I saw (lam'd with the gout) 
 Had entrance when poor Truth was kept without. 420 
 There saw I Drunkenness with dropsies swoli'n ; 
 
 4i5-— Two-kind bat, i.e. half-bird and half-mouse. 
 
120 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 And pamper'd Lust, that many a night had stol'n 
 
 Over the abbey-wall when gates were lock'd, 
 
 To be in 'Venus' wanton bosom rock'd : 
 
 And Gluttony, that surfeiting had been, 425 
 
 Knock at the gate and straightway taken in \ 
 
 Sadly I sat. and sighing, griev'd to see 
 
 Their happiness, my infelicity. 
 
 At last came Envy by, who, having spied 
 
 Where I was sadly seated, inward hied, 430 
 
 And to the convent eagerly she cries, 
 
 Why sit you here, when with these ears and eyes 
 
 I heard and saw a strumpet dares to say 
 
 She is the true fair Aletheia, 
 
 Which you have boasted long to live among you, 435 
 Yet suffer not a peevish girl to wrong you ? 
 With this provok'd, all rose, and in a rout 
 Ran to the gate, strove who should first get out, 
 Bade me begone, and then (in terms uncivil) 
 Did call me counterfeit, witch, hag, whore, devil ; 440 
 Then like a strumpet drove me from their cells, 
 With tinkling pans, and with the noise of bells. 
 And he that lov'd me, or but moan'd my case, 
 Had heaps of firebrands banded at his face. 
 
 Thus beaten thence (distress'd, forsaken wight) 445 
 Enforc'd in fields to sleep, or wake all night ; 
 A silly sheep, seeing me straying by, 
 Forsook the shrub where once she meant to lie ; 
 
 \y].—Roid y crowd. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 121 
 
 As if she in her kind (unhurting elf) 
 Did bid me take such lodging as herself : 450 
 Gladly I took the place the sheep had given, 
 Uncanopied of anything but heaven. 
 Where, nigh benumb'd with cold, with grief fre- 
 quented, 
 
 Unto the silent night I thus lamented : 
 
 Fair Cynthia, if, from thy silver throne, 455 
 Thou ever lent'st an ear to virgin's moan ! 
 Or in thy monthly course one minute stay'd 
 Thy palfreys' trot, to hear a wretched maid ! 
 Pull in their reins, and lend thine ear to me, 
 Forlorn, forsaken, cloth'd in misery : 460 
 But if a woe hath never woo'd thine ear, 
 To stop those coursers in their full career; 
 But as stone-hearted men, uncharitable, 
 Pass careless by the poor, when men less able 
 Hold not the needy's help in long suspense, 465 
 But in their hands pour their benevolence. 
 O ! if thou be so hard to stop thine ears, 
 When stars in pity drop down from their spheres, 
 Yet for a while in gloomy veil of night, 
 Enshroud the pale beams of thy borrow'd light ! 470 
 O ! never once discourage Goodness (lending 
 One glimpse of light) to see Misfortune spending 
 Her utmost rage on Truth, despis'd, distress'd, 
 Unhappy, unrelieved, yet undress'd ! 
 Where is the heart at Virtue's suffring grieveth? 475 
 Where is the eye that, pitying, relieveth ? 
 
122 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Where is the hand that still the hungry feedeth ? 
 Where is the ear that the decrepit steedeth ? 
 That heart, that hand, that ear, or else that eye, 
 Giveth, relieveth, feeds, steeds Misery ? 480 
 
 0 Earth ! produce me one of all thy store 
 Enjoys ; and be vain-glorious no more. 
 
 By this had chanticleer, the village clock, 
 Bidden the goodwife for her maids to knock ; 
 And the swart ploughman for his breakfast stay'd, 485 
 That he might till those lands were fallow laid : 
 The hills and valleys here and there resound 
 With the re-echoes of the deep-mouth'd hound. 
 Each shepherd's daughter, with her cleanly peal, 
 Was come afield to milk the morning's meal, 490 
 And ere the sun had climb'd the eastern hills, 
 To gild the mutt'ring bourns and pretty rills, 
 Before the lab'ring bee had left the hive, 
 And nimble fishes which in rivers dive, 
 Began to leap, and catch the drowned fly, 495 
 
 1 rose from rest, not in felicity. 
 Seeking the place of Charity's resort, 
 Unware I happen'd on a prince's court ; 
 Where, meeting Greatness, I requir'd relief, 
 
 (O happy undelay'd) she said in brief, 500 
 To small effect thine oratory tends, 
 
 478.' 
 485-- 
 489. 
 
 . — Steedeth, assists. 
 , — Swart, sunburnt. 
 . — Peal, pail. 
 
Sons 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 123 
 
 How can I keep thee and so many friends ? 
 If of my household I should make thee one, 
 Farewell my servant, Adulation : 
 I know she will not stay when thou art there : 505 
 But seek some great man's service otherwhere. 
 Darkness and light, summer and winter's weather 
 May be at once, ere you two live together. 
 Thus with a nod she left me cloth'd in woe. 
 
 Thence to the city once I thought to go, 510 
 But somewhat in my mind this thought had thrown, 
 It was a place wherein I was not known. 
 And therefore went unto these homely towns, 
 Sweetly environ'd with the daisied downs. 
 
 Upon a stream washing a village end 515 
 A mill is plac'd, that never difference kenn'd 
 'Twixt days for work, and holy-tides for rest, 
 But always wrought and ground the neighbours' grist. 
 Before the door I saw the miller walking, Truth en- 
 
 And other two (his neighbours) with him talking : 520 caw from" a 
 One of them was a weaver, and the other miller, a 
 
 The village tailor, and his trusty brother. weaver? 11 * 
 
 To them I came, and thus my suit began : 
 Content, the riches of a country-man, 
 Attend your actions, be more happy still 525 
 Than I am hapless ! and as yonder mill, 
 Though in his turning it obey the stream, 
 Yet by the headstrong torrent from his beam 
 Is unremov'd, and till the wheel be tore, 
 It daily toils ; then rests, and works no more : 530 
 
124 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book I. 
 
 So in life's motion may you never be 
 
 (Though sway'd with griefs) o'erborne with misery. 
 
 With that the miller, laughing, brush'd his clothes, 
 Then swore by Cock and other dunghill oaths, 
 I greatly was to blame that durst so wade 535 
 Into the knowledge of the wheelwright's trade. 
 Ay, neighbour quoth the tailor (then he bent 
 His pace to me, spruce like a Jack of Lent) 
 Your judgment is not seam-rent when you spend it, 
 Nor is it botching, for I cannot mend it. 540 
 And, maiden, let me tell you in displeasure, 
 You must not press the cloth you cannot measure : 
 But let your steps be stitch'd to Wisdom's chalking, 
 And cast presumptuous shreds out of your walking. 
 The weaver said, Fie, wench ! yourself you wrong, 
 Thus to let slip the shuttle of your tongue ; [545 
 For mark me well, yea, mark me well, I say, 
 I see you work your speech's web astray. 
 
 Sad to the soul, o'erlaid with idle words, 
 
 0 Heaven ! quoth I, where is the place affords 55° 
 A friend to help, or any heart that ru'th 
 
 The most dejected hopes of wronged Truth ? 
 Truth ! quoth the miller, plainly for our parts, 
 
 1 and the weaver hate thee with our hearts : 
 
 The strifes you raise I will not now discuss, 555 
 
 534. — Cock> a vulgar corruption of the name of God. 
 538.— Jack of Lent, a stuffed puppet which was thrown at 
 during Lent : hence a term of reproach. 
 551. — Ru'th, rueth, pities. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 125 
 
 Between our honest customers and us : 
 
 But get you gone, for sure you may despair 
 
 Of comfort here, seek it some otherwhere. 
 
 Maid (quoth the tailor) we no succour owe you, 
 
 For as I guess here's none of us doth know you : 560 
 
 Nor my remembrance any thought can seize 
 
 That I have ever seen you in my days. 
 
 Seen you ? nay, therein confident I am ; 
 
 Nay, till this time I never heard your name, 
 
 Excepting once, and by this token chief, 565 
 
 My neighbour at that instant call'd me thief. 
 
 By this you see you are unknown among us, 
 
 We cannot help you, though your stay may wrong us. 
 
 Thus went I on, and further went in woe : 
 For as shrill-sounding Fame, that's never slow, 570 
 Grows in her going, and increaseth more, 
 Where she is now, than where she was before : 
 So Grief (that never healthy, ever sick, 
 That froward scholar to arithmetic, 
 Who doth division and subtraction fly, 575 
 And chiefly learns to add and multiply) 
 In longest joumeys hath the strongest strength, 
 And is at hand, suppress'd, unquail'd at length. 
 
 Between two hills, the highest Phoebus sees Descrip- 
 Gallantly crown'd with large sky-kissing trees, 580 sXafy vale. 
 Under whose shade the humble valleys lay ; 
 And wild boars from their dens their gambols play : 
 There lay a gravell'd walk o'ergrovvn with green, 
 Where neither tract of man nor beast was seen. 
 
126 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 And as the ploughman, when the land he tills, 585 
 
 Throws up the fruitful earth in ridged hills, 
 
 Between whose chevron form he leaves a balk ; 
 
 So 'twixt those hills had Nature fram'd this walk, 
 
 Not over-dark, nor light, in angles bending, 
 
 And like the gliding of a snake, descending ; 590 
 
 All hush'd and silent as the mid of night ; 
 
 No chatt'ring pie, nor crow appear'd in sight ; 
 
 But further in I heard the turtle-dove 
 
 Singing sad dirges on her lifeless love. 
 
 Birds that compassion from the rocks could bring, 595 
 
 Had only license in that place to sing : 
 
 Whose doleful notes the melancholy cat 
 
 Close in a hollow tree sat wond'ring at. 
 
 And trees that on the hill-side comely grew, 
 
 When any little blast of ^£ol blew, 600 
 
 I )id nod their curled heads, as they would be 
 
 The judges to approve their melody. 
 
 Just half the way this solitary grove, 
 A crystal spring from either hill-side strove, [605 
 Which of them first should woo the meeker ground, 
 And makes the pebbles dance unto their sound. 
 But as when children having leave to play, 
 And near their master's eye sport out the day, 
 (Beyond condition) in their childish toys 
 Oft vex their tutor with too great a noise, 610 
 
 587. — Chevron, zigzag. 
 
 ^ij. — Ba/A; a bank or ridge of land left by the plough. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORAIS. 127 
 
 And make him send some servant out of door, 
 To cease their clamour, lest they play no more : 
 So when the pretty rill a place espies, 
 Where with the pebbles she would wantonize, 
 And that her upper stream so much doth wrong 
 her 615 
 To drive her thence, and let her play no longer ; 
 If she with too loud mutt'ring ran away, 
 As being much incens'd to leave her play, 
 A western, mild and pretty whispering gale 
 Came dallying with the leaves along the dale, 620 
 And seem'd as with the water it did chide, 
 Because it ran so long unpacified : 
 Yea, and methought it bade her leave that coil, 
 Or he would choke her up with leaves and soil : 
 Whereat the riv'let in my mind did weep, 625 
 And hurl'd her head into a silent deep. 
 
 Now he that guides the chariot of the sun, 
 Upon th' ecliptic circle had so run, 
 That his brass-hoof d fire-breathing horses wan 
 The stately height of the meridian : 630 
 And the day-lab'ring man (who all the morn 
 Had from the quarry with his pickaxe torn 
 A large well-squared stone, which he w 7 oukl cut 
 To serve his stile, or for some water-shut) 
 Seeing the sun preparing to decline, 635 
 Took out his bag, and sat him down to dine : 
 
 623. — Coil, tumult, bustle. 
 §&5*—Water-shut s a floodgate, dam. 
 
128 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book v 
 
 When by a sliding, yet not steep descent, 
 , I gain'd a place, ne'er poet did invent 
 The like for sorrow ; not in all this round 
 A fitter seat for passion can be found. 640 
 
 As when a dainty fount, and crystal spring, 
 Got newly from the earth's imprisoning, 
 And ready prest some channel clear to win, 
 Is round his rise by rocks immured in, 
 And from the thirsty earth would be withheld, 645 
 Till to the cistern top the waves have swelPd, 
 But that a careful hind the well hath found, 
 As he walks sadly through his parched ground ; 
 Whose patience sufFring not his land to stay 
 Until the water o'er the cistern play, 650 
 He gets a pickaxe, and with blows so stout 
 Digs on the rock, that all the groves about 
 Resound his stroke, and still the rock doth charge, 
 Till he hath made a hole both long and large, 
 Whereby the waters from their prison run 655 
 To close earth's gaping wounds made by the sun : 
 So through these high-rais'd hills, embracing round 
 This shady, sad, and solitary ground, 
 Some power (respecting one whose heavy moan 
 Requir'd a place to sit and weep alone) 660 
 Had cut a path, whereby the grieved wight 
 Might freely take the comfort of this site. 
 About the edges of whose roundly form 
 
 Ready prest, ready and eager. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 129 
 
 In order grew such trees as do adorn 
 
 The sable hearse, and sad forsaken mate, 665 
 
 And trees whose tears their loss commiserate. 
 
 Such are the cypress, and the weeping myrrh, 
 
 The dropping amber, and the refin'd fir, 
 
 The bleeding vine, the wat'ry sycamore, 
 
 And willow for the forlorn paramour ; 670 
 
 In comely distance : underneath whose shade 
 
 Most neat in rudeness Nature arbours made : 
 
 Some had a light, some so obscure a seat, 
 
 Would entertain a suff ranee ne'er so great : 
 
 Where grieved wights sat (as I after found, 675 
 
 Whose heavy hearts the height of sorrow crown'd) 
 
 Wailing in saddest tunes the dooms of Fate 
 
 On men by virtue cleeped fortunate. 
 
 The first note that I heard I soon was won 
 To think the sighs of fair Endymion ; 680 
 The subject of whose mournful heavy lay 
 Was his declining with fair Cynthia. 
 
 Next him a great man sat, in woe no less ; 
 Tears were but barren shadows to express 
 The substance of his grief, and therefore stood 685 
 Distilling from his heart red streams of blood : 
 He was a swain whom all the Graces kiss'd, 
 
 679. — The first note, etc., referring to Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 who was for some time in disgrace at Court. 
 
 682. — Cynthia, Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 683. — A great man, Robert Devereux, second Earl of Es5ex, 
 See Note. . . 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
Ijo BRITANNIA'S PASTOR A IS. [Book i. 
 
 A brave, heroic, worthy martialist : 
 * Yet on the downs he oftentimes was seen 
 
 To draw the merry maidens of the green 690 
 
 With his sweet voice : once, as he sat alone, 
 
 He sung the outrage of the lazy drone 
 
 Upon the lab'ring bee, in strains so rare, 
 
 That all the flitting pinionists of air 
 
 Attentive sat, and in their kinds did long 695 
 
 To learn some note from his well-timed song. 
 
 Exiled Naso (from whose golden pen 
 The Muses did distil delights for men) 
 Thus sang of Cephalus (whose name was worn 
 Within the bosom of the blushing Morn :) 700 
 HeTiad a dart was never set on wing, 
 But Death flew with it r he could never fling, 
 But life fled from the place where stuck the head. 
 A hunter's frolic life in woods he led 
 In separation from his yoked mate, 705 
 Whose beauty, once, he valued at a rate 
 Beyond Aurora's cheek, when she (in pride) 
 Promis'd their offspring should be deified ; 
 Procris she hight ; who (seeking to restore 
 Herself that happiness she had before) 710 
 Unto the green wood wends, omits no pain 
 Might bring her to her lord's embrace again : 
 But Fate thus cross'd her, coming where he lay 
 Wearied with hunting all a summer's day, 
 
 638. — Martialist, a soldier. 
 
 694. — Pinionists j winged creatures, birds. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 131 
 
 He somewhat heard within the thicket rush, 715 
 And deeming it some beast hid in a bush, 
 Raised himself, then set on wing a dart, 
 Which took a sad rest in the restless heart 
 Of his chaste wife ; who with a bleeding breast 
 Left love and life and slept in endless rest. 720 
 With Procris' heavy fate this shepherd's wrong 
 Might be compar'd, and ask as sad a song. 
 
 In th' autumn of his youth and manhood's spring, 
 Desert (grown now a most dejected thing) 
 Won him the favour of a royal maid, 725 
 Who with Diana's nymphs in forests stray'd, 
 And liv'd a huntress' life, exempt from fear. 
 She once encounter'd with a surly bear, 
 Near to a crystal fountain's flowery brink : 
 Heat brought them thither both, and both would 
 drink, 73° 
 When from her golden quiver she took forth 
 A dart, above the rest esteem'd for worth, 
 And sent it to his side : the gaping wound 
 Gave purple streams to cool the parched ground. [735 
 W T hereat he gnash'd his teeth, storm'd his hurt limb, 
 Yielded the earth what it denied him : 
 Yet sunk not there, but (wrapt in horror) hied 
 Unto his hellish cave, despair'd and died. 
 
 After the bear's just death the quick'ning sun 
 Had twice six times about the zodiac run, 740 
 
 728.—^ surly bear, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, in 
 allusion probably to his arms, a bear and ragged staff". 
 
 K 2 
 
132 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book i. 
 
 And (as respectless) never cast an eye 
 ■* Upon the night-enveil'd Cimmerii, 
 When this brave swain, approved valorous, 
 In opposition of a tyrannous 
 
 And bloody savage being long time gone, 745 
 Quelling his rage with faithless Gerion, 
 Returned from the stratagems of wars, 
 Enriched with his quail'd foes' bootless scars, 
 To see the clear eyes of his dearest love, 
 And that her skill in herbs might help remove 750 
 The freshing of a wound which he had got 
 In her defence by Envy's poison'd shot, 
 And coming through a grove wherein his fair 
 Lay with her breasts display'd to take the air, 
 His rushing through the boughs made her arise, 755 
 And dreading some wild beast's rude enterprise, 
 Directs towards the noise a sharpen'd dart, 
 That reach'd the life of his undaunted heart, 
 Which when she knew, twice twenty moons nigh 
 ' spent 
 
 In tears for him, and died in languishment. 760 
 
 Within an arbour shadow'd with a vine, 
 Mixed with rosemary and eglantine, 
 A shepherdess was set, as fair as young, 
 Whose praise full many a shepherd whilom sung, 
 Who on an altar fair had to her name, 765 
 In consecration, many an anagram : 
 
 742. — Cimmerii. See Note at p. 108. 
 T^6.—Genon, Philip II., King of Spain. See Note. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 133 
 
 And ^hen with sugar'd strains they strove to raise 
 
 Worth to a garland of immortal bays, 
 
 She as the learned 'st maid was chose by them, 
 
 Her flaxen hair crown'd with an anadem, 770 
 
 To judge who best deserv'd, for she could fit 
 
 The height of praise unto the height of wit. 
 
 But, well-a-day ! those happy times were gone : 
 
 Millions admit a small subtraction. 
 
 And as the year hath first his jocund spring, 775 
 Wherein the leaves, to birds' sweet carolling, 
 Dance with the wind ; then sees the summer's day 
 Perfect the embryon blossom of each spray ; 
 Next cometh autumn, when the threshed sheaf 
 Loseth his grain, and every tree his leaf ; 780 
 Lastly, cold winter's rage, with many a storm, 
 Threats the proud pines which Ida's top adorn, 
 And makes the sap leave succourless the shoot, 
 Shrinking to comfort his decaying root : 
 Or as a quaint musician being won 785 
 To run a point of sweet division, 
 Gets by degrees unto the highest key ; 
 Then, with like order, falieth in his play 
 Into a deeper tone ; and lastly, throws 
 His period in a diapason close : 790 
 So every human thing terrestrial, 
 
 770. — Anadem, garland. 
 
 785. — Quaint, skilled. 
 
 786. — Division, rapid passage. 
 
 790. — Diapason close, a close with the interval of an octave. 
 
134 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Mis utmost height attain'd, bends to his fall. 
 And as a comely youth, in fairest age, 
 Enamour'd on a maid, whose parentage 
 Had Fate adorn'd, as Nature deck'd her eye, 795 
 Might at a beck command a monarchy, 
 But poor and fair could never yet bewitch 
 A miser's mind, preferring foul and rich, 
 And therefore, as a king's heart left behind, 
 When as his corps are borne to be enshrin'd, 800 
 (His parents' will, a law) like that dead corse, 
 Leaving his heart, is brought unto his horse, 
 Carried unto a place that can impart 
 No secret embassy unto his heart, 
 Climbs some proud hill, whose stately eminence 805 
 Vassals the fruitful vale's circumference : 
 From whence, no sooner can his lights descry 
 The place enriched by his mistress 5 eye, 
 But some thick cloud his happy prospect blends, 
 And he in sorrow rais'd, in tears descends : 810 
 So this sad nymph (whom all commiserate) 
 Once pac'd the hill of greatness and of state, 
 And got the top ; but when she 'gan address 
 Her sight, from thence to see true happiness, 
 Fate interpos'd an envious cloud of fears, 81$ 
 And she withdrew into this vale of tears, 
 Where Sorrow so enthrall'd best Virtue's jewel, 
 Stones check'd Griefs hardness, call'd her too, too 
 cruel. 
 
 A stream of tears upon her fair cheeks flows, 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 *35 
 
 As morning dew upon the damask rose, 823 
 
 Or crystal glass veiling vermilion, 
 
 Or drops of milk on the carnation : 
 
 She sang and wept (O ye sea-binding cleeves, 
 
 Yield tributary drops, for Virtue grieves !) 
 
 And to the period of her sad sweet key 8: 5 
 
 Intwinn'd her case with chaste Penelope. 
 
 But see, the drizzling south my mournful strain 
 
 Answers in weeping drops of quick'ning rain ; 
 
 And since this day we can no further go, 
 
 Restless I rest within this vale of woe, 830 
 
 Until the modest Morn on Earth's vast zone 
 
 The ever giadsome Day shall re-enthrone. 
 
 823. —Cleeves, clifis 
 
136 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 
 
 THE FIFTH SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 In notes that rocks to psty move, 
 Idya a sings her buried love : 
 And from her horn of plenty gives 
 Comfort to Truth, whom none relieves, 
 Repentance' house next calls me on, 
 With Riot's true conversion : 
 Leaving Amintas' love to Truth 
 To be the theme the Muse ensu'th. 
 
 Here full of April, veil'd with Sorrow's wing, 
 For lovely lays, I dreary dirges sing. 
 "Whoso hath seen young lads (to sport themselves) 
 Run in a low ebb to the sandy shelves ; 
 Where seriously they work in digging wells, 
 Or building childish sorts of cockle-shells ; 
 Or liquid water each to other bandy ; 
 Or with the pebbles play at handy-dandy, 
 
 a Idya, the pastoral name of England. 
 4. — Shelves, rocks. 
 
 8. — H andy-dmidy^ a game played by two children. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 137 
 
 Till unawares the tide hath clos'd them round, 
 
 And they must wade it through or else be drown'd : 10 
 
 May (if unto my pipe he listen well) 
 
 My Muse' distress with theirs soon parallel. 
 
 For where I whilom sung the loves of swains, 
 
 And woo'd the crystal currents of the plains, 
 
 Teaching the birds to love, whilst every tree 15 
 
 Gave his attention to my melody : 
 
 Fate now (as envying my too-happy theme) 
 
 Hath round begirt my song with Sorrow's stream, 
 
 Which till my Muse wade through and get on shore, 
 
 My grief-swoH'n soul can sing of love no more. 20 
 
 But turn we now (yet not without remorse) 
 To heavenly Aletheia's sad discourse, 
 That did from Fida's eyes salt tears exhale, 
 When thus she show'd the solitary vale. 
 
 Just in the midst this joy-forsaken ground 25 
 A hillock stood, with springs embraced round, 
 (And with a crystal ring did seem to marry 
 Themselves to this small Isle sad-solitary,) 
 Upon whose breast, which trembled as it ran, 
 Rode the fair downy-silver-coated swan : 30 
 And on the banks each cypress bow'd his head, 
 To hear the swan sing her own epiced. * 
 
 As when the gallant youth which live upon 
 The western downs of lovely Albion, 
 Meeting, some festival to solemnize, 35 
 Choose out two, skill'd in wrestling exercise, 
 Who strongly, at the wrist or collar cling, 
 
 A funeral 
 song before 
 the corpse be 
 interred* 
 
1 38 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 1. 
 
 Whilst arm-in-arm the people make a ring : 
 
 So did the water round this Isle enlink, 
 
 And so the trees grew on the water's brink ; 40 
 
 Waters their streams about the Island scatter 
 
 And trees perform'd as much unto the water : 
 
 Under whose shade the nightingale would bring 
 
 Her chirping young, and teach them how to sing. 
 
 The woods' most sad musicians thither hie, 45 
 
 As it had been the Sylvians' Castalie, 
 
 And warbled forth such elegiac strains, 
 
 That struck the winds dumb ; and the motley plains 
 
 Were fill'd with envy that such shady places 
 
 Held all the world's delights in their embraces. 50 
 
 O how (methinks) the imps of Mneme bring 
 Dews of invention from their sacred spring ! 
 Here could I spend that spring of poesy, 
 Which not twice ten suns have bestow'd on me ; 
 And tell the world the Muses' love appears 55 
 In nonag'd youth as in the length of years. 
 But ere my Muse erected have the frame, 
 Wherein t' enshrine an unknown shepherd's name, 
 She many a grove, and other woods must tread, [60 
 More hills, more dales, more founts must be display'd, 
 More meadows, rocks, and from them all elect 
 Matter befitting such an architect. 
 
 As children on a play-day leave the schools, 
 
 48. 
 5^ 
 
 . — Motley, various-coloured. 
 
 — Imps, offspring. Mneme, Greek \Lvr\\xy\, memory. 
 , — Nonag d youth, not of full age. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 139 
 
 And gladly run unto the swimming pools ; 
 
 Or in the thickets, all with nettles stung, 65 
 
 Rush to despoil some sweet thrush of her young ; 
 
 Or with their hats (for fish) lade in a brook 
 
 Withouten pain ; but when the Morn doth look 
 
 Out of the Eastern gates, a snail would faster 
 
 Glide to the schools, than they unto their master : 70 
 
 So when before I sung the songs of birds, 
 
 Whilst every moment sweeten'd lines affords, 
 
 I pip'd devoid of pain, but now I come 
 
 Unto my task, my Muse is stricken dumb. 
 
 My blubb'ring pen her sable tears lets fall 75 
 
 In characters right hieroglyphical, 
 
 And mixing with my tears are ready turning 
 
 My late white paper to a weed of mourning ; 
 
 Or ink and paper strive how to impart 
 
 My words, the weeds they wore, within my heart : 80 
 
 Or else the blots unwilling are my rhymes 
 
 And their sad cause should live till after-times ; 
 
 Fearing if men their subject should descry, 
 
 They forthwith would dissolve in tears and die. 
 
 Upon the Island's craggy rising hill 85 
 A quadrant ran, wherein by artless skill, 
 At every corner Nature did erect 
 A column rude, yet void of all defect : 
 Whereon a marble lay. The thick-grown briar, 
 And prickled hawthorn (woven all entire) 90 
 Together clung, and barr'd the gladsome light 
 From any entrance, fitting only night. 
 
140 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 No way to it but one, steep and obscure, 
 
 The stairs of rugged stone, seldom in ure, 
 
 All overgrown with moss, as Nature sat 95 
 
 To entertain Grief with a cloth of state. 
 
 Hardly unto the top I had ascended, 
 But that the trees (siding the steps) befriended 
 My weary limbs, who bowing down their arms 
 Gave hold unto my hands to 'scape from harms : 100 
 Which evermore are ready, still present 
 Our feet, in climbing places eminent. 
 Before the door (to hinder Phoebus' view) 
 A shady box-tree grasped with a yew, 
 As in the place' behalf they menac'd war 105 
 Against the radiance of each sparkling star. 
 And on their barks (which Time had nigh deprav'd) 
 These lines (it seem'd) had been of old engrav'd : 
 " This place was fram'd of yore to be possess'd 
 By one which sometime hath been happiest." 1 10 
 
 Lovely Idya, the most beauteous 
 Of all the darlings of Oceanus, 
 Hesperia's envy and the Western pride, 
 Whose party-coloured garment Nature dy'd 
 In more eye-pleasing hues, with richer grain, 115 
 Than Iris' bow attending April's rain ; 
 Whose lily white inshaded with the rose 
 Had that man seen who sung th' Eneidos, 
 Dido had in oblivion slept, and she 
 
 94. — Ure, use. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 141 
 
 Had given his Muse her best eternity. 120 
 Had brave Atrides, who did erst employ 
 His force to mix his dead with those of Troy, 
 Been proffer'd for a truce her feigned peace 
 Helen had stay'd, and that had gone to Greece : 
 The Phrygian soil had not been drunk with 
 blood, 125 
 Achilles longer breath'd, and Troy yet stood : 
 The prince of poets had not sung his story, 
 My friend had lost his ever-living glory. 
 
 But as a snowy Swan, who many a day 
 On Tamar's swelling breasts hath had her play, 130 
 For further pleasure doth assay to swim 
 My native Tavy, or the sandy Plim ; 
 And on the panting billows bravely rides, 
 Whilst country-lasses, walking on the sides, 
 Admire her beauty, and with clapping hands, 135 
 Would force her leave the stream, and tread the sands, 
 When she, regardless, swims to th' other edge, 
 Until an envious briar, or tangling sedge, 
 Despoils her plumes ; or else a sharpen'd beam 
 Pierceth her breast, and on the bloody stream 140 
 She pants for life : so whilom rode this maid 
 On streams of worldly bliss, more rich array'd 
 With Earth's delight than thought could put in ure 
 To glut the senses of an epicure. 
 
 128. — My friend, George Chapman, translator of Homer's 
 poems. 
 
 130. — The old editions read " his play." 
 
142 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book r. 
 
 Whilst neighb'ring kings upon their frontiers stood, 
 
 And offer'd for her dower huge seas of blood : [145 
 
 And perjur'd Gerion to win her rent 
 
 The Indian rocks for gold, and bootless spent 
 
 Almost his patrimony for her sake, 
 
 Yet nothing like respected as the Drake 1 50 
 
 That scour'd her channels, and destroy'd the weed 
 
 Which spoil'd her fishers' nets and fishes' breed. 
 
 At last her truest love she threw upon 
 
 A royal youth, whose like, whose paragon, 
 
 Heaven never lent the Earth : so great a spirit 155 
 
 The world could not contain, nor kingdoms merit : 
 
 And therefore Jove did with the saints enthrone h ; m, 
 
 And left his lady nought but tears to moan him. 
 
 Within this place (as woful as my verse) 
 She with her crystal founts bedew'd his hearse ; 160 
 Inveiled with a sable weed she sat, 
 Singing this song which stones dissolved at. 
 
 What time the w^orld, clad in a mourning-robe, 
 
 A stage made for a woful tragedy ; 
 
 When showers of tears from the celestial globe 165 
 
 Bewail'd the fate of sea-lov'd Britany ; 
 
 When sighs as frequent were as various sights, 
 
 When Hope lay bed-rid, and all pleasures dying, 
 
 150. — The Drake, Sir Francis Drake. 
 
 154. — A royal youths Henry, Prince of Wales. See Note. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 143 
 
 When Envy wept, 
 
 And Comfort slept, 170 
 When Cruelty itself sat almost crying, 
 Nought being heard but what the mind affrights ; 
 When Autumn had disrob'd the Summer's pride, 
 Then England's honour, Europe's wonder, died. 
 
 O saddest strain that e'er the Muses sung ! 175 
 A text of woe for Grief to comment on ; 
 Tears, sighs, and sobs, give passage to my tongue, 
 Or I shall spend you till the last is gone. 
 Which done, my heart in flames of burning love 
 (Wanting his moisture) shall to cinders turn ; 180 
 But first, by me 
 Bequeathed be 
 To strew the place wherein his sacred urn 
 Shall be enclos'd : this might in many move 
 
 The like effect : who would not do it when 1S5 
 No grave befits him but the hearts of men ? 
 
 That man whose mass of sorrows hath been such, 
 That by their weight laid on each several part, 
 His fountains are so dry, he but as much 
 As one poor drop hath left to ease his heart ; 190 
 Why should he keep it ? since the time doth call, 
 That he ne'er better can bestow it in ; 
 
 If so he fears 
 
 That others' tears 
 
144 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 In greater number, greatest prizes win ; 195 
 Know none gives more than he which giveth all. 
 Then he which hath but one poor tear in store, 
 O let him spend that drop, and weep no more. 
 
 Why flows not Helicon beyond her strands ? 
 Is Henry dead, and do the Muses sleep ? 2CO 
 Alas ! I see each one amazed stands ; 
 " Shallow fords mutter, silent are the deep." 
 Fain would they tell their griefs, but know not 
 where ; 
 
 All are so full, nought can augment their store : 
 
 Then how should they 205 
 Their griefs display 
 To men so cloy'd, they fain would hear no more, 
 Though blaming those whose plaints they cannot 
 hear? 
 
 And with this wish their passions I allow, 
 
 May that Muse never speak that's silent now ! 210 
 
 Is Henry dead ? alas ! and do I live 
 
 To sing a screech-owl's note that he is dead? 
 
 If any one a fitter theme can give, 
 
 Come, give it now, or never to be read. 
 
 But let him see it do of horror taste, 215 
 
 Anguish, destruction : could it rend in sunder 
 
 With fearful groans 
 
 The senseless stones, 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 145 
 
 Yet should we hardly be enforc'd to wonder, 
 
 Oar former griefs would so exceed their last. 220 
 
 Time cannot make our sorrows ought completer ; 
 
 Nor add one grief to make our mourning greater. 
 
 England was ne'er engirt with waves till now ; 
 Till now it held part with the Continent. 
 Aye me ! some one in pity show me how 225 
 I might in doleful numbers so lament, 
 That any one which lov'd him, hated me, 
 Might dearly love me for lamenting him. 
 Alas ! my plaint 
 
 In such constraint 230 
 Breaks forth in rage, that though my passions swim, 
 Yet are they drowned ere they landed be : 
 Imperfect lines ! O happy ! were I hurl'd 
 And cut from life as England from the world. 
 
 O happier had we been ! if we had been 235 
 
 Never made happy by enjoying thee ! 
 
 Where hath the glorious eye of heaven seen 
 
 A spectacle of greater misery ? 
 
 Time, turn thy course, and bring again the spring ; 
 
 Break Nature's laws ; search the records of old, 240 
 
 If aught befell 
 
 Might parallel 
 Sad Britain's case : weep, rocks, and Heaven behold 
 What seas of sorrow she is plunged in, 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Where storms of woe so mainly have beset her, 245 
 She hath no place for worse, nor hope for better. 
 
 Britain was whilom known (by more than fame) 
 
 To be one of the Islands Fortunate. 
 
 What frantic man would give her now that name, 
 
 Lying so rueful and disconsolate ? 250 
 
 Hath not her wat'ry zone in murmuring 
 
 Fill'd every shore with echoes of her cry? 
 Yes, Thetis raves, 
 And bids her waves 
 
 Bring all the nymphs within her emperie 255 
 
 To be assistant in her sorrowing. 
 
 See where they sadly sit on Isis' shore, 
 
 And rend their hairs as they would joy no more. 
 
 Isis, the glory of the Western world, 
 
 When our heroe (honour'd Essex) died, 260 
 
 Strucken with wonder, back again she hmTd, 
 
 And fill'd her banks wKh an unwonted tide : 
 
 As if she stood in doubt, if it were so, 
 
 And for the certainty had turn'd her way. 
 
 Why do not now 265 
 Her waves reflow ? 
 Poor nymph, her sorrows will not let her stay ; 
 Or flies to tell the world her country's woe ; 
 
 Or cares not to come back, perhaps, as showing 
 Our tears should make the flood, not her renew- 
 ing. 270 
 
Song 5-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 147 
 
 Sometimes a tyrant held the reins of Rome, 
 Wishing to all the city but one head, 
 That all at once might undergo his doom, 
 And by one blow from life be severed. 
 Fate wish'd the like on England, and 
 given : 
 
 O miserable men, enthrall'd to Fate !) 
 Whose heavy hand 
 That never scann'd 
 The misery of kingdoms ruinate, 
 Minding to leave her of all joys bereaven, 
 With one sad blow (alas ! can worser fall ?) 
 Hath given this little Isle her funeral. 
 
 O come, ye blessed imps of Memory, 
 Erect a new Parnassus on his grave ! 
 There tune your voices to an elegy, 285 
 The saddest note that e'er Apollo gave. 
 Let every accent make the stander-by 
 Keep time unto your song with dropping tears, 
 Till drops that fell 
 
 Have made a well 290 
 To swallow him which still unmoved hears ! 
 And though myself prove senseless of your cry, 
 Yet gladly should my light of life grow dim, 
 To be entomb'd in tears are wept for him. 
 
 'twas 
 275 
 
 280 
 
 283. — Imps, children. 
 
148 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 When last he sicken'd, then we first began 295 
 
 To tread the labyrinth of woe about : 
 
 And by degrees we further inward ran, 
 
 Having his thread of life to guide us out. 
 
 But Destiny no sooner saw us enter 
 
 Sad Sorrow's maze, immured up in night, 300 
 (Where nothing dwells 
 But cries and yells 
 
 Thrown from the hearts of men depriv'd of light,) 
 
 When we were almost come into the centre, 
 
 Fate (cruelly) to bar our joys returning, 305 
 Cut off our thread, and left us all in mourning. 
 
 If you have seen at foot of some brave hill 
 Two springs arise, and delicately trill 
 In gentle chidings through an humble dale, 
 Where tufty daisies nod at every gale, 310 
 And on the banks a swain, with laurel crown'd , 
 Marrying his sweet notes with their silver sound ; 
 When as the spongy clouds swoll'n big with water, 
 Throw their conception on the world's theatre, 
 Down from the hills the rained waters roar, 315 
 Whilst every leaf drops to augment their store ; 
 Grumbling the stones fall o'er each other's back, 
 Rending the green turfs with their cataract,* 
 And through the meadows run with such a noise, 
 That taking from the swain the fountain's voice, 320 
 Enforce him leave their margent, and alone 
 
 * A fall of 
 waters from 
 a very high 
 place. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 149 
 
 Couple his base pipe with their baser tone : 
 
 Know (Shepherdess) that so I lent an ear Aletheia to 
 
 To those sad wights whose plaints I told whilere ; Flda ' 
 
 But when this goodly lady 'gan address 325 
 
 Her heavenly voice to sweeten heaviness, 
 
 It drown'd the rest, as torrents little springs ; 
 
 And strucken mute at her great sorrowings, 
 
 Lay still and wonder'd at her piteous moan, 
 
 Wept at her griefs, and did forget their own, 330 
 
 Whilst I attentive sat, and did impart 
 
 Tears when they wanted drops, and from a heart, 
 
 As high in sorrow as e'er creature wore, 
 
 Lent thrilling groans to such as had no more. 
 
 Had wise Ulysses (who regardless flung 335 
 Along the ocean when the sirens sung) 
 Pass'd by and seen her on the sea-torn cleeves 
 Wail her lost love (while Neptune's wat'ry thieves 
 Durst not approach for rocks :) to see her face 
 He would have hazarded his Grecian race, 340 
 Thrust headlong to the shore, and to her eyes 
 Offer'd his vessel as a sacrifice. 
 Or had the sirens on a neighbour shore 
 Heard in what raping notes she did deplore 
 Her buried glory, they had left their shelves, 345 
 And to come near her would have drown'd them- 
 selves. 
 
 335 —Flung, hastened. 337-— Cleeves, cliffs. 
 
 344. — Raping, ravishing. 
 
150 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Afetheia Now silence lock'd the organs of that voice 
 
 cometh to Whereat each merry sylvan wont rejoice, 
 When with a bended knee to her I came, 
 And did impart my grief and hated name. 350 
 But first a pardon begg'd, if that my cause 
 So much constrain'd me as to break the laws 
 Of her wish'd sequestration, or ask'd bread 
 (To save a life) from her whose life was dead ; 
 But lawless famine, self-consuming hunger, 355 
 Alas ! compelPd me : had I stayed longer, 
 My weaken'd limbs had been my want's forc'd raeed, 
 And I had fed on that I could not feed. 
 W r hen she (compassionate) to my sad moan 
 Did lend a sigh, and stole it from her own ; 360 
 And (woful lady wreck'd on hapless shelf) 
 Yielded me comfort, yet had none herself : 
 Told how she knew me well since I had been - 
 As chiefest consort of the Fairy Queen. 
 O happy Queen ! for ever, ever praise 365 
 Dwell on thy tomb ; the period of all days 
 Only seal up thy fame ; and as thy birth 
 Enrich'd thy temples on the fading earth, 
 So have thy virtues crown'd thy blessed soul, 
 Where the first Mover with his words control ; 370 
 As with a girdle the huge ocean binds ; 
 Gathers into his fist the nimble winds ; 
 Stops the bright courser in his hot career ; 
 
 366.— O happy Queen, Elizabeth. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 151 
 
 Commands the moon twelve courses in a year : 
 Live thou with him in endless bliss, while we 375 
 Admire all virtues in admiring thee. 
 
 Thou, thou, the fautress of the learned Well ; 
 Thou nursing mother of God's Israel ; 
 Thou, for whose loving truth, the heavens rains 
 S weet mel and manna on our flow'ry plains ; 380 
 Thou, by whose hand the sacred Trine did bring 
 Us out of bonds, from bloody Bonnering. 
 Ye suckling babes, for ever bless that name 
 Releas'd your burning in your mothers' flame ! 
 Thrice-blessed maiden, by whose hand was 
 given 385 
 Free liberty to taste the food of Heaven. 
 Never forget her (Albion's lovely daughters) 
 Which led you to the springs of living waters ! 
 And if my Muse her glory fail to sing, 
 May to my mouth my tongue for ever cling ! 390 
 
 Herewith (at hand) taking her horn of plenty Idya 
 Fill'd with the choice of every orchard's dainty, ^KdS h 
 As pears, plums, apples, the sweet raspis-berry, 
 The quince, the apricock, the blushing cherry, 
 The mulberry (his black from Thisbe taking), 395 
 The cluster'd filbert, grapes oft merry-making. 
 (This fruitful horn th' immortal ladies fill'd 
 With all the pleasures that rough forests yield, 
 
 377. — Fatitress, patroness. 
 382. — Bonnering. See Note. 
 
 381. — Trine, Trinity. 
 395. — Thisbe. See Note. 
 
152 
 
 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Bioki. 
 
 And gave Idya, with a further blessing, 
 That Aence, as from a garden, without dressing 400 
 She these should ever have, and never want 
 Store, from an orchard without tree or plant.) 
 With a right willing hand she gave me hence 
 The stomach's comforter, the pleasing quince ; 
 And for the chiefest cherisher she lent 4°5 
 The royal thistle's milky nourishment. 
 
 Here stay'd I long ; but when to see Aurosa 
 Kiss the perfum'd cheeks of dainty Flora, 
 Without the vale I trod one lovely morn, 
 With true intention of a quick return, - 1 
 
 An unexpected chance strove to defer 
 My going back, and ail the love of her. 
 But, maiden, see the day is waxen old, 
 And 'gins to shut in with the marigold. 
 The neatherd's kine do bellow in the yard 1 4*5 
 And dairy maidens, for the milk prepar'd, 
 Are drawing at the udder ; long ere now 
 The ploughman hath unyok'd his team from plough. 
 My transformation to a fearful hind 
 Shall to unfold a fitter season find. ? * 2 ° 
 
 Meanwhile yond palace, whose brave turrets tops 
 Over the stately wood survey the copse, 
 Promis'th (if sought) a wished place of rest, 
 Till Sol our hemisphere have repossess d. 
 
 Now must my Muse afford a strain to Riot, 425 
 
 419,— Fearful* timid. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 153 
 
 Who, almost kill'd with his luxurious diet, 
 
 Lay eating grass (as dogs) within a wood, 
 
 So to disgorge the undigested food. 
 
 By whom fair Aletheia pass'd along 
 
 With Fida, queen of every shepherd's song, 430 
 
 By them unseen (for he securely lay 
 
 Under the thick of many a leaved spray) 
 
 And through the levell'd meadows gently threw 
 
 Their neatest feet, wash'd with refreshing dew, 
 
 Where he durst not approach, but on the edge 435 
 
 Of th' hilly wood, in covert of a hedge, 
 
 Went onward with them, trod with them in paces, 
 
 And far off much admir'd their forms and graces. 
 
 Into the plains at last he headlong venter'd ; 
 
 But they the hill had got and palace enter'd. 440 
 
 When, like a valiant, well-resolved man, 
 Seeking new paths i' th' pathless ocean, 
 Unto the shores of monster-breeding Nile, 
 Or through the North to the unpeopled Thyle, 
 Where, from the equinoctial of the spring 445 
 To that of autumn, Titan's golden ring 
 Is never off ; and till the spring again 
 In gloomy darkness all the shores remain : 
 Or if he furrow up the briny sea 
 To cast his anchors in the frozen bay 450 
 
 444. — Thyle ; or rather Thule, the name given by Greek and 
 Roman geographers to a land situated to the North of Britain, 
 which they held to be the most northerly portion of Europe— 
 indeed of the known world. 
 
154 BRITANNIA'S PASTOR A IS. [Book i. 
 
 Of woody Norway, who hath ever fed 
 Her people more with scaly fish than bread, 
 Though rattling mounts of ice thrust at his helm, 
 And by their fall still threaten to o'erwhelm 
 His little vessel, and though Winter throw 455 
 (What age should on their heads) white caps of snow ; 
 Strives to congeal his blood ; he cares not for't, 
 But arm'd in mind, gets his intended port : 
 
 So Riot, though full many doubts arise 
 Whose unknown ends might grasp his enterprise, 460 
 Climbs towards the palace, and with gait demure, 
 With hanging head, a voice as feigning pure, 
 With torn and ragged coat, his hairy legs 
 Bloody, as scratch'd with briars, he entrance begs. 
 
 Remembrance sat as portress of this gate : 465 
 A lady always musing as she sat, 
 Except when sometime suddenly she rose, 
 And with a back-bent eye, at length, she throws 
 Her hands to heaven ; and in a wond'ring guise, 
 Star'd on each object with her fixed eyes : 470 
 As some wayfaring man passing a wood, 
 Whose waving top hath long a sea-mark stood, 
 Goes jogging on, and in his mind nought hath, 
 But how the primrose finely strew the path, 
 Or sweetest violets lay down their heads 475 
 At some tree's root on mossy feather-beds, 
 Until his heel receives an adder's sting, 
 Whereat he starts, and back his head doth fling. 
 
 She never mark'd the suit he did prefer, 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 155 
 
 But (careless) let him pass along by her. 480 
 
 So on he went into a spacious court, 
 All trodden bare with multitudes' resort ; 
 At th' end whereof a second gate appears, 
 The fabric show'd full many thousand years, 
 Whose postern-key that time a lady kept, 485 
 Her eyes all swoll'n as if she seldom slept, 
 And would by fits her golden tresses tear, 
 And strive to stop her breath with her own hair. 
 Her lily hand (not to be lik'd by Art) 
 A pair of pincers held ; wherewith her heart 490 
 Was hardly grasped, while the piled stones 
 Re-echoed her lamentable groans. 
 
 Here at this gate the custom long had been 
 When any sought to be admitted in, 
 Remorse thus us'd them, ere they had the key, "495 
 And all these torments felt, pass'd on their way. 
 
 When Riot came, the lady's pains nigh done, 
 She pass'd the gate ; and then Remorse begun 
 To fetter Riot in strong iron chains, 
 And doubting much his patience in the pains : 500 
 As when a smith and 's man, lame Vulcan's fellows, 
 Call'd from the anvil or the puffing bellows, 
 To clap a well-wrought shoe, for more than pay, 
 Upon a stubborn nag of Galloway, 
 Or unback'd jennet, or a Flanders mare, 505 
 That at the forge stand snuffing of the air ; 
 
 e**et, a small Spanish horse. 
 
156 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 The swarty smith spits in his buckhorn fist, 
 
 And bids his man bring out the five-fold twist, 
 
 His shackles, shacklocks, hampers, gyves and chains, 
 
 His linked bolts ; and with no little pains 510 
 
 These make him fast ; and lest all these should falter, 
 
 Unto a post w T ith some six-doubled halter 
 
 He binds his head ; yet all are of the least 
 
 To curb the fury of the headstrong beast ; 
 
 When, if a carrier's jade he brought unto him, 515 
 
 His man can hold his foot whilst he can shoe him : 
 
 Remorse was so enforc'd to bind him stronger, 
 
 Because his faults requir'd infliction longer 
 
 Than any sin-press'd wight which many a day 
 
 Since Judas hung himself had pass'd that way. 520 
 
 When all the cruel torments he had borne, 
 Galled with chains, and on the rack nigh torn, 
 Pinching with glowing pincers his own heart, 
 All lame and restless, full of wounds and smart, 
 He to the postern creeps, so inward hies, 525 
 And from the gate a two-fold path descries, 
 One leading up a hill, Repentance' way, 
 And (as more worthy) on the right hand lay : 
 The other headlong, steep, and liken'd well 
 Unto the path which tendeth down to hell : 530 
 All steps that thither went show'd no returning, 
 The port to pains, and to eternal mourning ; 
 
 507. — Swarty, grimy. 
 
 509. — Shacklocks locks for fetters. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA S PASTORALS. 
 
 157 
 
 Where certain Death liv'd, in an ebon chair, 
 
 The soul's black homicide, meagre Despair, 
 
 Had his abode : there 'gainst the craggy rocks 535 
 
 Some dash'd their brains out with relentless knocks ; 
 
 Others on trees (O most accursed elves !) 
 
 Are fastening knots, so to undo themselves. 
 
 Here one in sin, not daring to appear 
 
 At Mercy's seat with one repentant tear, 540 
 
 Within his breast was lancing of an eye, 
 
 That unto God it might for vengeance cry ; 
 
 There from a rock a wretch but newly fell, 
 
 All torn in pieces, to go whole to hell. 
 
 Here with a sleepy potion one thinks fit 545 
 
 To grasp with Death, but would not know of it ; 
 
 There in a pool two men their lives expire, 
 
 And die in water to revive in fire. 
 
 Here hangs the blood upon the guiltless stones ; 
 
 There worms consume the flesh of human bones. 550 
 
 Here lies an arm ; a leg there ; here a head ; 
 
 Without other limbs of men unburied, 
 
 Scatt'ring the ground, and as regardless hurl'd, 
 
 As they at virtue spurned' in the world. 
 
 Fie, hapless wretch ! O thou, whose graces sterv- 
 
 ™& 555 
 Measut'st God's mercy by thine own deserving ; 
 Which cri'st (distrustful of the power of Heaven) 
 u My sins are greater than can be forgiven ; " 
 Which still are ready to " curse God and die " 
 At every stripe of worldly misery : 560 
 
158 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 0 learn thou, in whose breasts the drngon lurks, 
 
 God's mercy ever is o'er all his works. 
 
 Know he is pitiful, apt to forgive ; 
 
 Would not a sinner's death, but that he live. 
 
 O ever, ever rest upon that word 565 
 
 Which doth assure thee, though his two-edg'd sword 
 
 Be drawn in justice 'gainst thy sinful soul, 
 
 To separate the rotten from the whole ; 
 
 Yet if a sacrifice of prayer be sent him, 
 
 He will not strike ; or, if he strike, repent him. 570 
 
 Let none despair : for cursed Judas' sin 
 
 Was not so much in yielding up the King 
 
 Of life to death, as when he thereupon 
 
 Wholly despair'd of God's remission. 
 
 Riot, long doubting stood which way we -a 
 best 575 
 To lead his steps : at last, preferring rest 
 (As foolishly he thought) before the pain 
 Was to be past ere he could well attain 
 The high-built palace, 'gan adventure on 
 That path which led to all confusion, 580 
 W T h^n suddenly a voice as sweet as clear, 
 With words divine began entice his ear : 
 Whereat, as in a rapture, on the ground 
 lie prostrate lay, and all his senses found 
 A time of rest ; only that faculty 585 
 Which never can be seen, nor ever die, 
 That in the essence of an endless nature 
 Doth sympathize with the All-good Creator, 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 159 
 
 That only wak'd which cannot be interr'd 
 
 And from a heavenly choir this ditty heard. 590 
 
 Vain man, do not mistrust 
 
 Of heaven winning ; 
 Nor (though the most unjust) 
 Despair for sinning. 
 God will be seen his sentence changing, 595 
 If he behold thee wicked ways estranging. 
 
 Climb up where pleasures dwell 
 
 In flow'ry alleys ; 
 And taste the living well 
 
 That decks the valleys. 600 
 Fair Metanoia is attending 
 To crown thee with those joys which know no ending. 
 
 Herewith on leaden wings sleep f>om him flew, 
 When on his arm he rose, and sadly threw 
 Shrill acclamations ; while an hollow cave, 605 
 Or hanging hill, or heaven an answer gave. 
 O sacred essence, light'ning me this hour ! 
 How may I lightly style thy great Power? Echo. 
 Power. 
 
 Power ? but of whence ? under the green-wood spray, 
 Or liv'st in heav'n ? say. Echo. In heavens aye. 610 
 
 601. — Metanoia , Greek ixerdvoia, repentance. 
 
1 6o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 In heavens aye I tell. May I it obtain 
 
 By alms, by fasting, prayer, by pain ? Echo. By pain. 
 
 Show me the pain, 't shall be undergone : 
 
 I to mine end will still go on. Echo. Go on. 
 
 But whither ? On ! Show me the place, the time. 615 
 
 What if the mountain I do climb ? Echo. Do ; climb. 
 
 Is that the way to joys which still endure ? 
 
 O bid my soul of it be sure ! Echo. Be sure. 
 
 Then thus assured, do I climb the hill. [620 
 
 Heaven be my guide in this thy will. Echo. I will. 
 
 As when a maid taught from her mother wing 
 To tune her voice unto a silver string, 
 When she should run, she rests, rests when should 
 run, 
 
 And ends her lesson having now begun : 
 
 Now misseth she her stop, then in her song, 625 
 
 And doing of her best she still is wrong, 
 
 Begins again, and yet again strikes false, 
 
 Then in a chafe forsakes her virginals, 
 
 And yet within an hour she tries anew, 
 
 That with her daily pains (Art's chiefest due) 630 
 
 She gains that charming skill ; and can no less 
 
 Tame the fierce walkers of the wilderness, 
 
 Than that Oeagrin harpist, for whose lay 
 
 628. — Virginals, the more usual name for the keyed musical 
 instrument, the virginal, with one string, jack and quill to eacli 
 note ; it was the precursor of the harpsichord. 
 
 633. — Oeagrin Harpist, Orpheus, according to some accounts, 
 the son of Oeagrus and Clio or Polyhymnia. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 161 
 
 Tigers with hunger pin'd and left their prey : 
 
 So Riot, when he 'gan to climb the hill, 63$ 
 
 Here maketh haste and there long standeth still, 
 
 Now getteth up a step, then falls again, 
 
 Yet not despairing all his nerves doth strain 
 
 To clamber up anew, then slide his feet, 
 
 And down he comes : but gives not over yet, 640 
 
 For (with the maid) he hopes a time will be 
 
 When merit shall be link'd with industry. 
 
 Now as an angler melancholy standing 
 Upon a green bank yielding room for landing, 
 A wriggling yellow worm thrust on his hook, 645 
 Now in the midst he throws, then in a nook : 
 Here pulls his line, there throws it in again, 
 Mendeth his cork and bait, but all in vain, 
 He long stands viewing of the curled stream ; 
 At last a hungry pike, or well-grown bream 650 
 Snatch at the worm, and hasting fast away, 
 He knowing it a fish of stubborn sway, 
 Pulls up his rod, but soft, as having skill, 
 Wherewith the hook fast holds the fish's gill ; 
 Then all his line he freely yieldeth him, 655 
 Whilst furiously all up and down doth swim 
 Th' insnared fish, here on the top doth scud, 
 There underneath the banks, then in the mud, 
 And with his frantic fits so scares the shoal, 
 That each one takes his hide, or starting hole : 660 
 By this the pike, clean wearied, underneath 
 A willow lies, and pants (if fishes breathe) 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
1 62 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Wherewith the argler gently pulls him to him, 
 
 And lest his haste might happen to undo him, 
 
 Lays down his rod, then takes his line in hand, 665 
 
 And by degrees getting the fish to land, 
 
 Walks to another pool : at length is winner 
 
 Of such a dish as serves him for his dinner : 
 
 So when the climber. half the way had got, 
 
 Musing he stood, and busily 'gan plot 670 
 
 How (since the mount did always steeper tend) 
 
 He might with steps secure his journey end. 
 
 At last (as wand'ring boys to gather nuts) 
 
 A hooked pole he from a hazel cuts ; 
 
 Now throws it here, then there to take some hold, 675 
 
 But bootless and in vain, the rocky mould 
 
 Admits no cranny where his hazel hook 
 
 Might promise him a step, till in a nook 
 
 vSomewhat above his reach he hath espied 
 
 A little oak, and having often tried 680 
 
 To catch a bough with standing on his toe, 
 
 Or leaping up, yet not prevailing so, 
 
 He rolls a stone towards the little tree, 
 
 Then gets upon it, fastens warily 
 
 His pole unto a bough, and at his drawing 685 
 
 The early-rising crow with clam'rous cawing, 
 
 Leaving the green bough, flies about the rock, 
 
 Whilst twenty twenty couples to him flock : 
 
 And now within his reach the thin leaves wave, 
 
 With one hand only then he holds his stave, 690 
 
 And with the other grasping first the leaves, 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 163 
 
 A pretty bough he in his fist receives ; 
 
 Then to his girdle making fast the hook, 
 
 His other hand another bough hath took ; 
 
 His first, a third, and that, another gives, 695 
 
 To bring him to the place where his root lives. 
 
 Then, as a nimble squirrel from the wood, 
 
 Ranging the hedges for his filberd-food, 
 
 Sits peartly on a bough his brown nuts cracking, 
 
 And from the shell the sweet white kernel taking, 700 
 
 Till with their crooks and bags a sort of boys, 
 
 To share with him, come with so great a noise, 
 
 That he is forc'd to leave a nut nigh broke, 
 
 And for his life leap to a neighbour oak, 
 
 Thence to a beech, thence to a row of ashes ; 705 
 
 Whilst through the quagmires, and red water plashes, 
 
 The boys run dabbling thorough thick and thin ; 
 
 One tears his hose, another breaks his shin, 
 
 This, torn and tatter'd, hath with much ado 
 
 Got by the briars ; and that hath lost his shoe ; 710 
 
 This drops his band ; that headlong falls for haste ; 
 
 Another cries behind for being last ; 
 
 With sticks and stones, and many a sounding holloa, 
 
 The little fool, with no small sport, they follow, 
 
 Whilst he, from tree to tree, from spray to spray, 715 
 
 Gets to the wood, and hides him in his dray : 
 
 699. — Peartly, briskly. 
 'jot.. — Sort, set or company. 
 706. — Plashes, pools. 
 716. — Dray, a squirrel's nest. 
 
 M 2 
 
1 64 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 Such shift made Riot ere he could get up, 
 
 And so from bough to bough he won the top, 
 
 Though hindrances, for ever coming there, 
 
 Were often thrust upon him by Despair. 720 
 
 Now at his feet the stately mountain lay, 
 And with a gladsome eye he 'gan survey 
 What perils he had trod on since the time 
 His weary feet and arms assayed to climb. 
 When with a humble voice, withouten fear, 725 
 Though he look'd wild and overgrown with hair, 
 A gentle nymph, in russet coarse array, 
 Comes and directs him onward in his way, 
 Descrip- First, brings she him into a goodly hall, 
 
 houseVf 16 Fair ' y et not beautified witn mineral : 730 
 
 Repentance. But in a careless art and artless care 
 
 Made loose neglect more lovely far than rare. 
 
 Upon the floor ypav'd with marble slate, 
 
 With sack-cloth cloth'd, many in ashes sat ; 
 
 And round about the walls for many years 735 
 
 Hung crystal vials of repentant tears ; 
 
 And books of vows, and many a heavenly deed 
 
 Lay ready open for each one to read. 
 
 Some were immured up in little sheds, 
 
 There to contemplate heaven, and bid their beads ; 
 
 Others with garments thin of camel's hair, [740 
 
 With head, and arms, and legs, and feet all bare, 
 
 Were singing hymns to the Eternal Sage, 
 
 For safe returning from their pilgrimage ; 
 
 Some with a whip their pamper'd bodies beat ; 745 
 
Song 5.J BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Others in fasting live, and seldom eat : 
 
 But as those trees which do in India grow 
 
 And call'd of elder swains full long ago 
 
 The sun and moon's fair trees, full goodly dight, 
 
 And ten times ten feet challenging their height, 750 
 
 Having no help to overlook brave towers, 
 
 From cool refreshing dew, or drizzling showers, 
 
 When as the earth, as oftentimes is seen, 
 
 Is interpos'd 'twixt Sol and Night's pale queen ; 
 
 Or when the moon eclipseth Titan's light, 755 
 
 The trees all comfortless robb'd of their sight 
 
 Weep liquid drops, which plentifully shoot 
 
 Along the outward bark down to the root, 
 
 And by their own shed tears they ever flourish, 
 
 So their own sorrows, their own joys do nourish : 760 
 
 And so within this place full many a wight 
 
 Did make his tears his food both day and night, 
 
 And had it g[r]anted from th' Almighty great 
 
 To swim through them unto his mercy-seat. 
 
 Fair Metanoia in a chair of earth, 765 
 
 With count'nance sad, yet sadness promis'd mirth, 
 
 Sat veil'd in coarsest weeds of camel's hair, 
 
 Enriching poverty ; yet never fair 
 
 Was like to her, nor since the world begun 
 
 A lovelier lady kiss'd the glorious sun. 770 
 
 For her the god of thunder, mighty, great, 
 
 Whose footstool is the earth, and heaven his seat, 
 
 Unto a man who from his crying birth 
 
 Went on still shunning what he carried, earth, 
 
1 66 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book I. 
 
 When he could walk no further for his grave, 775 
 Nor could step over, but he there must have 
 A seat to rest, when he would fain go on, 
 But age in every nerve, in every bone 
 Forbad his passage : for her sake hath Heaven 
 Fill'd up the grave, and made his path so even 780 
 That fifteen courses had the bright steeds run, 
 (And he was weary) ere his course was done. 
 For scorning her the courts of kings which throw 
 A proud rais'd pinnacle to rest the crow, 
 And on a plain outbrave a neighbour rock 785 
 In stout resistance of a tempest's shock, 
 For her contempt Heaven, raining his disasters, 
 Have made those towers but piles to burn their 
 masters. 
 
 To her the lowly nymph (Humblessa hight) 
 Brought as her office this deformed wight ; 790 
 To whom the lady courteous semblance shows, 
 And pitying his estate in sacred thewes, 
 And letters worthily ycleep'd divine, 
 Resolv'd t' instruct him : but her discipline 
 She knew of true effect would surely miss, 795 
 Except she first his metamorphosis 
 Should clean exile : and knowing that his birth 
 Was to inherit reason, though on earth 
 Some witch had thus transform'd him, by her skill, 
 Expert in changing, even the very will, 800 
 
 792. — Thewes, manners. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 167 
 
 In few days' labours with continual prayer, 
 (A sacrifice transcends the buxom air) 
 His grisly shape, his foul deformed feature, 
 His horrid looks, worse than a savage creature, 
 By Metanoia's hand from heaven, began 805 
 Receive their sentence of divorce from man. 
 And as a lovely maiden, pure and chaste, 
 With naked iv'ry neck, and gown unlac'd, 
 Within her chamber, when the day is fled, 
 Makes poor her garments to enrich her bed : 810 
 First, puts she off her lily-silken gown, 
 That shrieks for sorrow as she lays it down ; 
 And with her arms graceth a waistcoat fine, 
 Embracing her as it would ne'er untwine. 
 Her flaxen hair, ensnaring all beholders, 815 
 She next permits to wave about her shoulders, 
 And though she cast it back, the silken slips 
 Still forward steal and hang upon her lips : 
 Whereat she sweetly angry, with her laces 
 Binds up the wanton locks in curious traces, 820 
 Whilst (twisting with her joints) each hair long 
 lingers, 
 
 As loth to be enchain'd but with her fingers. 
 Then on her head a dressing like a crown ; 
 Her breasts all bare, her kirtle slipping down, 
 And all things off (which rightly ever be 825 
 Call'd the foul-fair marks of our misery) 
 
 802.— Buxom, yielding, in which sense it is constantly used 
 by Spenser. 
 
163 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 Except her last, which enviously doth seize her, 
 
 Lest any eye partake with it in pleasure, 
 
 Prepares for sweetest rest, while sylvans greet her, 
 
 And longingly the down bed swells to meet her : 830 
 
 So by degrees his shape all brutish vild, 
 
 Fell from him (as loose skin from some young child) 
 
 In lieu whereof a man-like shape appears, 
 
 And gallant youth scarce skilPd in twenty years, 
 
 So fair, so fresh, so young, so admirable 835 
 
 In every part, that since I am not able 
 
 In words to show his picture, gentle swains, 
 
 Recall the praises in my former strains ; 
 
 And know if they have graced any limb, 
 
 I only lent it those, but stole \ from him. 840 
 
 Had that chaste Roman dame beheld his face, 
 Ere the proud king possess'd her husband's place, 
 Her thoughts had been adulterate, and this stain 
 Had won her greater fame had she been slain. 
 The lark that many morns herself makes merry 845 
 With the shrill chanting of her teery-lerry, 
 (Before he was transform'd) would leave the skies, 
 And hover o'er him to behold his eyes. 
 Upon an oaten pipe well could he play, 
 For when he fed his flock upon the lay 850 
 Maidens to hear him from the plains came tripping, 
 
 831.— Vild, vile. 
 
 846. — Teery-lerry ', more usually tirra-iirra, borrowed from 
 the French tire-lire. 
 850. — Lay, ley, lea. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 169 
 
 And birds from bough to bough full nimbly skipping ; 
 His flock (then happy flock) would leave to feed, 
 And stand amaz'd to listen to his reed ; 
 Lions and tigers, with each beast of game, 855 
 With hearing him were many times made tame ; 
 Brave trees and flowers would towards him be bend- 
 ing, 
 
 And none that heard him wish'd his song an ending : 
 Maids, lions, birds, flocks, trees, each flower, each 
 spring 
 
 Were wrapt with wonder when he used to sing. 860 
 So fair a person to describe to men 
 Requires a curious pencil, not a pen. 
 
 Him Metanoia clad in seemly wise 
 (Not after our corrupted age's guise, 
 Where gaudy weeds lend splendour to the limb, 865 • 
 While that his clothes receiv'd their grace from him), 
 Then to a garden set with rarest flowers, 
 With pleasant fountains stor'd and shady bowers, 
 She leads him by the hand, and in the groves, 
 Where thousand pretty birds sung to their loves, 870 
 And thousand thousand blossoms (from their stalks) 
 Mild Zephyrus threw down to paint the walks : 
 Where yet the wild boar never durst appear : 
 Here Fida (ever to kind Raymond dear) 
 Met them, and show'd where Aletheia lay, 875 
 The fairest maid that ever bless'd the day. 
 Sweetly she lay, and cool'd her lily hands 
 Within a spring that threw up golden sands : 
 
170 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book i. 
 
 As if it would entice her to persever 
 
 In living there, and grace the banks for ever. 880 
 
 To her Amintas (Riot now no more) 
 Came, and saluted : never man before 
 More bless'd, nor like this kiss hath been another 
 But when two dangling cherries kiss'd each other : 
 Nor ever beauties, like, met at such closes, 885 
 But in the kisses of two damask roses. 
 O how the flowers (press'd with their treadings on 
 them) 
 
 Strove to cast up their heads to look upon them ! 
 How jealously the buds that so had seen them 
 Sent forth the sweetest smells to step between 
 them, 890 
 As fearing the perfume lodg'd in their powers 
 Once known of them, they might neglect the flowers. 
 How often wish'd Amintas with his heart, 
 His ruddy lips from hers might never part ; 
 And that the heavens this gift were them bequeath- 
 ing, 895 
 To feed on nothing but each other's breathing ! 
 
 A truer love the Muses never sung, 
 Nor happier names e'er grac'd a golden tongue. 
 O ! they are better fitting his sweet stripe, 
 Who on the banks of Ancor tun'd his pipe : 900 
 
 899. — Stripe, strain or measure. 
 
 900. — Ancor, or Anker, the river intersecting Hartshill in 
 Warwickshire, the birthplace of Michael Drayton. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 171 
 
 Or rather for that learned swain whose lays 
 
 Divinest Homer crown'd with deathless bays : 
 
 Or any one sent from the sacred Weil 
 
 Inheriting the soul of Astrophel : 
 
 These, these in golden lines might write this story, 
 
 And make these loves their own eternal glory : [905 
 
 Whilst I, a swain as weak in years as skill, 
 
 Should in the valley hear them on the hill. 
 
 Yet when my sheep have at their cistern been, 
 
 And I have brought them back to shear the green, 
 
 To miss an idle hour, and not for meed, [910 
 
 With choicest relish shall mine oaten reed 
 
 Record their worths : and though in accents rare 
 
 I miss the glory of a charming air, 
 
 My Muse may one day make the courtly swains 915 
 
 Enamour'd on the music of the plains, 
 
 And as upon a hill she bravely sings, 
 
 Teach humble dales to weep in crystal springs. 
 
 901. — That learned swain, George Chapman, the translator 
 of Homer's poems. 
 
 904. — Astrophel, a poetical name given by Spenser and his 
 contemporaries to Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
Britannia's 
 
 PASTORALS. 
 
 The second Booke. 
 
 HO RAT. 
 
 Carmine Dij superiplacantur^ carmine Manes. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed by Thomas Snodham for George 
 Norton, and are to be sold at the signe of 
 the Red Bull without Temple-barre. 
 1616. 
 
TO 
 
 The truly Noble and Learned 
 WILLIAM, EARL OF PEMBROKE, 
 
 Lord Chamberlain to His Majesty ; <2rY. 
 
 Not that the gift, great Lord, deserves your hand, 
 Held ever worth the rarest works of men, 
 Offer I this ; but since in all our land 
 None can more rightly claim a poet's pen : 
 That noble blood and virtue truly known, 
 Which circular in you united run, 
 Makes you each good, and every good your own, 
 If it can hold in what my Muse hath done. 
 But weak and lowly are these tuned lays, 
 Yet though but weak to win fair Memory, 
 You may improve them, and your gracing raise ; 
 For things are priz'd as their possessors be. 
 If for such favour they have worthless striven, 
 Since love the cause was, be that love forgiven ! 
 
 Your Honour 
 
 W« Browne. 
 
To the most ingenious Author Mr. W. Browne. 
 
 Ingenious swain ! that highly dost adorn 
 Clear Tavy ! on whose brink we both were born ! 
 Just praise in me would ne'er be thought to move 
 From thy sole worth, but from my partial love. 
 Wherefore I will not do thee so much wrong, 
 Az by such mixture to allay thy song. 
 But while kind strangers rightly praise each grace 
 Of thy chaste Muse, I (from the happy place 
 That brought thee forth, and thinks it not unfit 
 To boast now that it erst bred such a wit) 
 Would only have it known I much rejoice 
 To hear such matters sung by such a voice. 
 
 John Glanvill. 
 
 To his Friend Mr. Browne* 
 
 All that do read thy works, and see thy face, 
 Where scarce a hair grows up thy chin to grace, 
 Do greatly wonder how so youthful years 
 Could frame a work where so much worth appears. 
 - vol. I. N 
 
173 
 
 COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 To hear how thou describ'st a tree, a dale, 
 A grove, a green, a solitary vale, 
 The evening showers, and the morning gleams, 
 The golden mountains, and the silver streams, 
 How smooth thy verse is, and how sweet thy rhymes, 
 1 low sage, and yet how pleasant are thy lines ; 
 What more or less can there be said by men, 
 But, Muses rule thy hand, and guide thy pen. 
 
 Tho. Wenman, 
 
 e Societate Inter. Tempi j» 
 
 To his worthily -affected Friend Mr. W. Broivm. 
 
 Awake, sad Muse, and thou my sadder spright, 
 Made so by Time, but more by Fortune's spite ; 
 Awake, and hie us to the green ; 
 
 There shall be seen 
 The quaintest lad of all the time 
 
 For neater rhyme : 
 Whose free and unaffected strains 
 
 Take all the swains 
 That are not rude and ignorant, 
 
 Or Envy want. 
 
 And Envy, lest its hate discover'd be, 
 A courtly love and friendship offers thee : 
 The shepherdesses, blithe and fair, 
 For thee despair. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 179 
 
 And whosoe'er depends on Pan 
 
 Holds him a man 
 Beyond themselves (if not compare), 
 
 He is so rare, 
 So innocent in all his ways 
 As in his lays. 
 He masters no low soul who hopes to please 
 The nephew a of the brave Philisides. 
 
 Another to the same. 
 
 WERE all men's envies fix'd in one man's looks, 
 That monster that would prey on safest Fame, 
 Durst not once check at thine, nor at thy name : 
 So he who men can read as well as books 
 Attest thy lines ; thus tried, they show to us 
 As Scaeva's shield, b thyself Emeritus. 
 
 W. Herbert. 
 
 To my Browne, yet brightest swain 
 That woons, 0 or haunts or hill or plain, 
 
 Poeta nascitur. 
 
 Pipe on, sweet swain, til] joy, in bliss, sleep waking ; 
 Hermes, it seems, to thee, of all the swains, 
 
 a The nephew, etc., William, Earl of Pembroke, to whom the 
 book is dedicated. 
 
 b Sccevas shield, transfixed in a hundred and twenty places 
 at the battle of Dyrrhachium. 
 
 c Woons, wons, dwells. 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 Hath lent his pipe and art : for thou art making 
 With sweet notes (noted) heav'n of hills and 
 plains ! 
 
 Nay, if as thou begin'st, thou dost hold on, 
 
 The total earth thine Arcadie will be, 
 
 And Neptune's monarchy thy Helicon ; 
 
 So all in both will make a god of thee, 
 
 To whom they will exhibit sacrifice 
 
 Of richest love and praise ; and envious swains 
 
 (Charm'd with thine accents) shall thy notes agnize a 
 
 To reach above great Pan's in all thy strains. 
 
 Then ply this vein, for it may well contain 
 
 The richest morals under poorest shroud ; 
 
 And sith in thee the past'ral spirit doth reign, 
 
 On such wit's-treasures let it sit abrood, 
 
 Till it hath hatch'd such numbers as may buy 
 
 The rarest fame that e'er enriched air ; 
 
 Or fann'd the way fair to eternity, 
 
 To which unsoil'd thy glory shall repair ! 
 
 Where (with the gods that in fair stars do dwell, 
 
 When thou shalt, blazing, in a star abide) 
 
 Thou shalt be styl'd the shepherds' star to tell 
 
 Them many mysteries and be their guide. 
 
 Thus do I spur thee on with sharpest praise, 
 To use thy gifts of Nature and of skill, 
 To double-gild Apollo's brows and bays, 
 Yet make great Nature Art's true sov : reign still. 
 
 a Agnize^ acknowledge. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 181 
 
 So Fame shall ever say, to thy renown, 
 
 The shepherd's-star, or bright'st in sky, is Browne ! 
 
 The true lover of thine 
 
 Art and Nature, 
 
 John Davies of Heref. 
 
 Ad Illustrissimnm Juvenem Gulielmum Browne 
 Generosum, in Oj>ei'is stii Tomum secun- 
 dum Carmen gratulatorium. 
 
 SCRIPTA prius vidi, legi, digitoque notavi 
 
 Carminis istius singula verba meo. 
 Ex scriptis sparsim quserebam carpere dicta, 
 
 Omnia sed par est, aut ego nulla notem. 
 Filia si merit facies haec nacta sororis, 
 
 Laudator prolis solus & Author eris : 
 Haec nondum visi qui flagrat amore libelli 
 
 Pnenarrat scriotis omnia certa tuis. 
 
 Carolus Croke. 
 
 To my noble Friend the Author. 
 
 A perfect pen itself will ever praise. 
 So pipes our shepherd in his roundelays, 
 That who could judge of Music's sweetest strain, 
 Would swear thy Muse were in a heavenly vein, 
 
1 82 COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 A work of worth shows what the workman is : 
 When as the fault that may be found amiss, 
 (To such at least as have judicious eyes) 
 Nor in the work, nor yet the workman lies. 
 Well worthy thou to wear the laurel wreath : 
 When from thy breast these blessed thoughts do 
 breathe, 
 
 That in thy gracious lines such grace do give, 
 
 It makes thee everlastingly to live. 
 
 Thy words well couch'd, thy sweet invention show 
 A perfect poet that could place them so. 
 
 Unton Croke, 
 
 e Societate Inter. Templi. 
 
 To the Author. 
 
 That privilege which others claim, 
 
 To flatter with their friends, 
 With thee, friend, shall not be mine aim ; 
 
 My verse so much pretends. 
 The general umpire of best wit 
 
 In this will speak thy fame. 
 The Muses' minions, as they sit, 
 
 Will still confirm the same : 
 Let me sing him that merits best ; 
 
 Let others scrape for fashion ; 
 Their buzzing prate thy worth will jest, 
 
 And slight such commendation. 
 
 Anth. Vincent. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 183 
 
 To his worthy Friend Mr. W. Brozvne, o?z his Book. 
 
 That poets are not bred so, but so born, 
 
 Thy Muse it proves ; for in her age's morn 
 
 She hath struck Envy dumb, and charm'd the love 
 
 Of ev'ry Mu.^e whose birth the skies approve. 
 
 Go on ; I know thou art too good to fear. 
 
 And may thy early strains affect the ear 
 
 Of that rare Lord, who judge and guerdon can 
 
 The richer gifts which do advantage man ! 
 
 John Morgan, 
 
 e Societate Inter. Templi. 
 
 To his Friend the Author. 
 
 Sometimes, dear friend, I make thy book my meat, 
 
 And then I judge 'tis honey that I eat. 
 
 Sometimes my drink it is, and then I think 
 
 It is Apollo's nectar, and no drink. 
 
 And being hurt in mind, I keep in store 
 
 Thy book; a precious balsam for the sore. 
 'Tis honey, nectar, balsam most divine : 
 Or one word for them all ; my friend, 'tis thine. 
 
 Tho. Heygate, 
 
 e Societate Inter. Templi. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 To his Friend the Author* 
 
 If antique swains wan such immortal praise, 
 Though they alone with their melodious lays 
 Did only charm the woods and flow'ry lawns, 
 Satyrs, and floods, and stones, and hairy fawns : 
 How much, brave youth, to thy due worth belongs, 
 That charm 'st not them but men with thy sweet 
 songs ? 
 
 Augustus Cesar, 
 
 e Societate Inter. TempIL 
 
 To the Author. 
 
 ? Tis known 1 scorn to flatter, or commend, 
 What merits not applause, though in my friend ; 
 Which by my censure should now more appear, 
 Were this not full as good as thou art dear : 
 But since thou couldst not (erring) make it so, 
 That I might my impartial humour show 
 By finding fault ; nor one of these friends tell 
 How to show love so ill, that I as well 
 Might paint out mine : I feel an envious touch, 
 And tell thee, swain, that at thy fame I grutch, a 
 Wishing the art that makes this poem shine, 
 And this thy work (wert not thou wronged) mine, 
 
 a Grutch, grumble. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 185 
 
 For when detraction shall forgotten be, 
 
 This will continue to eternize thee ; 
 
 And if hereafter any busy wit 
 
 Should, wronging thy conceit, miscensure it, 
 
 Though seeming learn'd or wise : here he shall see, 
 
 'Tis prais'd by wiser and more learn'd than he. 
 
 G. Wither. 
 
 To Mr. Browne. 
 
 Were there a thought so strange as to deny 
 That happy bays do some men's births adorn, 
 Thy work alone might serve to justify, 
 That poets are not made so, but so born. 
 How could thy plumes thus soon have soar'd thus 
 high, 
 
 Iladst thou not laurel in thy cradle worn? 
 
 Thy birth o'ertook thy youth : and it doth make 
 Thy youth (herein ) thine elders overtake. 
 
 W. B. 
 
 To my truly beloved Friend M. Browne, on his 
 Pastorals. 
 
 Some men, of books or friends not speaking right, 
 May hurt them more with praise than foes with 
 spite. 
 
 But I have seen thy work, and I know thee : 
 And, if thou list thyself, what thou canst be. 
 
COMMENDATORY VERSES. 
 
 For though but early in these paths thou tread, 
 
 I find thee write most worthy to be read. 
 
 It must be thine own judgment yet that sends 
 
 This thy work forth : that judgment mine commends. 
 
 And, where the most read books, on authors' fames, 
 
 Or, like our money-brokers, take up names 
 
 On credit, and are cozen'd ; see that thou, 
 
 By off'ring not more sureties than enow, 
 
 Hold thine own worth unbroke, which is so good 
 
 Upon th' Exchange of Letters, as I would 
 
 More of our writers would, like thee, not swell 
 
 With the how much they set forth, but th' how well. 
 
 Ben. Jonson. 
 
BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 THE FIRST SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 Marina's freedom now I sing, 
 < And of her new endangering : 
 Of Famine's Cave, and then th' abuse 
 Tow'rds buried Colin* and his Muse. 
 
 As when a mariner, accounted lost, 
 
 Upon the vvat'ry Desert long time tost, 
 
 In Summer's parching heat, in Winter's cold> 
 
 In tempests great, in dangers manifold, 
 
 Is by a jav'ring wind drawn up the mast, 5 
 
 Whence he descries his native soil at last, 
 
 For whose glad sight he gets the hatches under, 
 
 And to the ocean tells his joy in thunder, 
 
 a Colin, Edmund Spenser. 
 
1 88 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 (Shaking those barnacles into the sea, 
 
 At once that in the womb and cradle lay) 10 
 
 When suddenly the still inconstant wind 
 
 Masters before, that did attend behind, 
 
 And grows so violent that he is fain 
 
 Command the pilot stand to sea again, 
 
 Lest want of sea-room in a channel straight, 1 5 
 
 Or casting anchor might cast o'er his freight : 
 
 Thus, gentle Muse, it happens in my song : 
 A journey, tedious for a strength so young, 
 I undertook by silver-seeming floods, 
 Past gloomy bottoms and high-waving woods, 20 
 Climb'd mountains where the wanton kidling dallies, 
 Then with soft steps enseal' d the meeken'd valleys, 
 In quest of memory : and had possest 
 A pleasant garden for a welcome rest 
 No sooner, than a hundred themes come on, 25 
 And hale my bark anew for Helicon. 
 
 Thrice-sacred Powers ! (if sacied Powers there be 
 Whose mild aspect engyrland Poesy) 
 Ye happy sisters of the learned Spring, 
 Whose heavenly notes the woods are ravishing ! 30 
 Brave Thespian maidens, at whose charming lays 
 Each moss-thrumb'd mountain bends, each current 
 plays ! 
 
 Pierian singers ! O ye blessed Muses 1 
 
 28. — Engyrland, encircle. 
 
 32. — Moss-th.7 umb'd, knitted over with moss. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Who as a gem too dear the world refuses ! 
 
 Whose truest lovers never clip with age, 35 
 
 O be propitious in my pilgrimage ! 
 
 Dwell on my lines ! and till the last sand fall, 
 
 Run hand in hand with my weak Pastoral ! 
 
 Cause every coupling cadence flow in blisses, 
 
 And fill the world with envy of such kisses. 40 
 
 Make all the rarest beauties of our clime, 
 
 That deign a sweet look on my younger rhyme, 
 
 To linger on each line's enticing graces, 
 
 As on their lovers' lips and chaste embraces ! [45 
 
 Through rolling trenches of self-drowning waves, 
 Where stormy gusts throw up untimely graves, 
 By billows whose white foam show'd angry minds 
 For not out-roaring all the high-rais'd winds, 
 Into the ever-drinking thirsty sea 
 By rocks that under water hidden lay 50 
 To shipwreck passengers, (so in some den 
 Thieves bent to robb'ry watch wayfaring men,) 
 Fairest Marina, whom I whilom sung, 
 In all this tempest, violent though long, 
 Without all sense of danger lay asleep : 55 
 Till tossed where the still inconstant deep, 
 With widespread arms, stood ready for the tender 
 Of daily tribute that the swoll'n floods render 
 Into her chequer ; whence, as worthy kings, 
 She helps the wants of thousand lesser springs : 60 
 
 35.— Clip, embrace. 
 
iqo BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Here wax'd the winds dumb, shut up in their caves ; 
 
 As still as midnight were the sullen waves ; 
 
 And Neptune's silver ever-shaking breast 
 
 As smooth as when the halcyon builds her nest. 
 
 None other wrinkles on his face were seen 65 
 
 Than on a fertile mead, or sportive green, 
 
 Where never ploughshare ripp'd his mother's womb 
 
 To give an aged seed a living tomb ; 
 
 Nor blinded mole the batt'ning earth e'er stirr'd ; 
 
 Nor boys made pitfalls for the hungry bird. 70 
 
 The whistling reeds upon the waters' side 
 
 Shot up their sharp heads in a stalely pride ; 
 
 And not a binding osier bow'd his head, 
 
 But on his root him bravely carried. 
 
 No dandling leaf play'd with the subtile air, 75 
 
 vSo smooth the sea was, and the sky so fair. 
 
 Now/with his hands, instead of broad-palm 'd oars, 
 The swain attempts to get the shell -strew'd shores, 
 And with continual lading making way. 
 Thrust the small boat into as fair a bay 80 
 As ever merchant wish'd might be the road 
 Wherein to ease his sea-torn vessel's load. 
 It was an island, hugg'd in Neptune's arms, 
 As tend'ring it against all foreign harms, 
 And Mona hight : so amiably fair, 85 
 So rich in soil, so healthful in her air, 
 
 64. — Halcyon, kingfisher. 
 
 69. — Batt'iihig, thriving, fertile. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 191 
 
 So quick in her increase, (each dewy night 
 
 Yielding that ground as green, as fresh of plight 
 
 As 'twas the day before, whereon then fed 
 
 Of gallant steers full many a thousand head) 90 
 
 So deck'd with floods, so pleasant in her groves, 
 
 So full of well-fleec'd flocks and fatten'd droves ; 
 
 That the brave issue of the Trojan line, 
 
 Whose worths, like diamonds, yet in darkness shine ; 
 
 Whose deeds were sung by learned bards as high, 95 
 
 In raptures of immortal poesy, 
 
 As any nations, since the Grecian lads 
 
 Were famous made by Homer's Iliads : 
 
 Those brave heroic spirits, 'twixt one another, 
 
 Proverbially call Mona Cambria's mother.* 100 * f&oft JWam 
 
 Yet Cambria is a land from whence have come ISuintrt). 
 
 Worthies well worth the race of Ilium ; 
 
 Whose true desert of praise could my Muse touch, 
 
 I should be proud that I had done so much. 
 
 And though of mighty Brute I cannot boast, 105 
 
 Yet doth our warlike strong Devonian coast 
 
 Resound his worth, since on her wave-worn strand * Petunt 
 
 He and his Trojans first set foot on land, omnfbus 
 
 Struck sail, and anchor cast on Totnes'* shore, bonis onus " 
 
 Though now no ship can ride there any more. no peris vemis 
 
 In th' island's road the swain now moors his boat ™*7i sul " 
 
 cantes in 
 
 Unto a willow, lest it outwards float, Totenesio 
 And with a rude embracement taking up ter°applica-~ 
 The maid, more fair than she* that fill'd the cup ™nt. Galf - 
 
 Monum. 
 
 Of the great thunderer, wounding with her eyes 115 * Hebe. 
 
192 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 More hearts than all the troops of deities, 
 He wades to shore, and sets her on the sand, 
 That gently yielded when her foot should land ; 
 Where bubbling waters through the pebbles fleet, 
 As if they strove to kiss .her slender feet. 120 
 
 Whilst like a wretch, whose cursed hand hath ta'en 
 The sacred relics from a holy fane, 
 Feeling the hand of Heaven (enforcing wonder) 
 In his return, in dreadful cracks of thunder, 
 Within a bush his sacrilege hath left, 125 
 And thinks his punishment freed with the theft : 
 So fled the swain from one ; had Neptune spied 
 At half an ebb he would have forc'd the tide 
 To swell anew, whereon his car should sweep, 
 Deck'd with the riches of th' unsounded deep, 130 
 And he from thence would with all state on shore, 
 To woo this beauty, and to woo no more. 
 
 Divine Electra (of the sisters seven 
 That beautify the glorious orb of heaven) 
 When Ilium's stately towers serv'd as one light 135 
 To guide the ravisher in ugly night 
 Unto her virgin beds, withdrew her face, 
 And never would look down on human race 
 Till this maid's birth ; since when some power hath 
 won her 
 
 By often fits to shine as gazing on her. 140 
 Grim Saturn's son, the dread Olympic Jove, 
 
 122. — Fane, temple. 
 
 133. — The sisters seven, the seven Pleiades. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 193 
 
 That dark'd three days to frolic with his love, 
 
 Had he in Alcmen's stead clipp'd this fair wight, 
 
 The world had slept in everlasting night. 
 
 For whose sake only (had she lived then) 145 
 
 Deucalion's flood had never rag'd on men ; 
 
 Nor Phaeton perform' d his father's duty, 
 
 For fear to rob the world of such a beauty : 
 
 In whose due praise a learned quill might spend 
 
 Hours, days, months, years, and never make an end. 
 
 What wretch inhuman, or what wilder blood, [150 
 Suck'd in a desert from a tiger's brood, 
 Could leave her so disconsolate ? but one 
 Bred in the wastes of frost-bit Calydon ; 
 For had his veins been heat with milder air, 155 
 Fie had not wrong'd so foul a maid so fair. 
 
 Sing on, sweet Muse, and whilst I feed mine eyes 
 Upon a jewel and unvalued prize, 
 As bright a star, a dame, as fair, as chaste, 
 As eye beheld, or shall, till Nature's last, 160 
 Charm her quick senses, and with raptures sweet 
 Make her affection with your cadence meet ! 
 And if her graceful tongue admire one strain, 
 It is the best reward my pipe would gain. 
 In lieu whereof, in laurel- worthy rhymes 165 
 Her love shall live until the end of times, 
 And spite of age the last of days shall see 
 Her name embalm'd in sacred poesy. 
 
 158.— Unvalued, priceless. 
 VOL. L O 
 
194 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Sadly alone upon the aged rocks, 
 Whom Thetis grac'd in washing oft their locks 170 
 Of branching samphire, sat the maid o'ertaken 
 With sighs and tears, unfortunate, forsaken, 
 And with a voice that floods from rocks would borrow, 
 She thus both wept and sung her notes of sorrow : 
 
 If Heaven be deaf and will not hear my cries, 175 
 But adds new days to add new miseries ; 
 Kear then, ye troubled wa\es and flitting gales, 
 That cool the bosoms of the fruitful vales ! 
 Lend, one, a flood of tears, the other, wind, 
 To weep and sigh that Heaven is so unkind ! 180 
 But if ye will not spare of all your store 
 One tear or sigh unto a wretch so poor ; 
 Yet as ye travel on this spacious round, 
 Through forests, mountains, or the lawny ground, 
 If t hap you see a maid weep forth her woe, 185 
 As I have done, O bid her as ye go 
 Not lavish tears ! for when her own are gone, 
 The world is flinty and will lend her none. 
 If this be eke deni'd, O hearken then, 
 Each hollow vaulted rock and crooked den ! 190 
 And if within your sides one Echo be, 
 Let her begin to rue my destiny ! 
 And in your clefts her plainings do not smother, 
 But let that Echo teach it to another 1 [195 
 Till round the world in sounding coombe and plain, 
 
 ilZ.—Rowid, globe. 
 
 195. — Coombe, valley. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 195 
 
 The last of them tell it the first again : 
 
 Of my sad fate so shall they never lin, 
 
 But where one ends, another still begin. 
 
 Wretch that I am, my words I vainly waste ; 
 
 Echo of all woes only speaks the last ; 200 
 
 And that's enough : for should she utter all, 
 
 As at Medusa's head, each heart would fall 
 
 Into a flinty substance, and repine 
 
 At no one grief except as great as mine. 
 
 No careful nurse would wet her watchful eye, 205 
 
 When any pang should gripe her infantry, 
 
 Nor though to Nature it obedience gave, 
 
 And kneel'd to do her homage in the grave, 
 
 Would she lament her suckling from her torn ; 
 
 'Scaping by death those torments I have borne. 210 
 
 This sigh'd, she wept, low leaning on her hand, 
 Her briny tears down raining on the sand, 
 Which seen by them that sport it in the seas 
 On dolphins' backs, the fair Nereides, 
 They came on shore, and slily as they fell 215 
 Convey'd each tear into an oyster-shell, 
 And by some power that did affect the girls, 
 Trans form 'd those liquid drops to orient pearls, 
 And strew'd them on the shore : for whose rich prize 
 In winged pines the Roman colonies 220 
 
 197. — Lin, cease. 
 
 206. — In/ajitry, children. 
 
 220. — Pines, ships. 
 
 o 2 
 
1 96 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Flung through the deep abyss to our white rocks 
 For gems to deck their ladies' golden locks : 
 Who valu'd them as highly in their kinds 
 As those the sunburnt ^Ethiopian finds. 
 
 Long on the shore distress'd Marina lay : 225 
 For he that opes the pleasant sweets of May, 
 Beyond the noonstead so far drove his team, 
 That harvest folks, with curds and clouted cream, 
 With cheese and butter, cakes, and cates enow, 
 That are the yeoman's from the yoke or cow, 230 
 On sheaves of corn were at their noonshun's ctose, 
 Whilst [by] them merrily the bagpipe goes : 
 Ere from her hand she lifted up her head, 
 Where all the Graces then inhabited. 
 When casting round her over-drowned eyes, 235 
 (So have I seen a gem of mickle price 
 Roll in a scallop-shell with water fill'd) 
 She, on a marble rock at hand beheld, 
 In characters deep cut with iron stroke, [240 
 A shepherd's moan, which, read by her, thus spoke : 
 
 Glide soft, ye silver floods, 
 
 And every spring : 
 Within the shady woods 
 Let no bird sing ! 
 Nor from the grove a turtle-dove 245 
 Be seen to couple with her love ; 
 
 0.1']% — Noonstead, period of noon. 
 231. — Noonshun, luncheon. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 197 
 
 But silence on each dale and mountain dwell, 
 Whilst Willy bids his friend and joy farewell. 
 
 But (of great Thetis' train) 
 
 That on the shores do plain 
 Your sea-green hair, 
 As ye in trammels knit your locks, 
 Weep ye ; and so enforce the rocks 
 In heavy murmurs through the broad shores tell 255 
 How Willy bade his friend and joy farewell. 
 
 Cease, cease, ye murd'ring winds, 
 
 To move a wave ; 
 But if with troubled minds 
 
 Know 'tis as various as yourselves, 
 Now in the deep, then on the shelves, 
 His coffin toss'd by fish and surges fell, 
 Whilst Willy weeps and bids all joy farewell. 
 
 Ye mermaids fair, 
 
 250 
 
 You seek his grave ; 
 
 260 
 
 Had he Arion-like 
 Been judg'd to drown, 
 
 He on his lute could strike 
 So rare a sowne, 
 
 265 
 
 251. — Plain, make smooth. 
 262. — SkefoeS) rocks. 
 268.— Sowne, sound. 
 
193 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 A thousand dolphins would have come 
 And jointly strive to bring him home. 270 
 But he on shipboard died, by sickness fell, 
 Since when his Willy bade all joy farewelL 
 
 Great Neptune, hear a swain 1 
 
 His coffin take, 
 And with a golden chain 275 
 For pity make 
 It fast unto a rock near land ! 
 Where ev'ry calmy morn I'll stand, 
 And ere one sheep out of my fold I tell, 
 Sad Willy's pipe shall bid his friend farewell. 280 
 
 Ah heavy shepherd, whosoe'er thou be, 
 
 Quoth fair Marina, I do pity thee : 
 
 For who by death is in a true friend cross'd, 
 
 Till he be earth, he half himself hath lost. 
 
 More happy deem I thee, lamented swain, 285 
 
 Whose body lies among the scaly train, 
 
 Since I shall never think that thou canst die, 
 
 Whilst Willy lives, or any poetry : 
 
 For well it seems in versing he hath skill, 
 
 And though he, aided from the sacred hill, 290 
 
 To thee with him no equal life can give, 
 
 Yet by his pen thou may'st for ever live. 
 
 With this a beam of sudden brightness flies 
 
 Upon her face, so dazzling her clear eyes, 
 
 That neither flower nor grass which by her grew 295 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 199 
 
 She could discern cloth'd in their perfect hue. 
 
 For as a wag, to sport with such as pass, 
 
 Taking the sunbeams in a looking-glass, 
 
 Conveys the ray into the eyes of one 
 
 Who, blinded, either stumbles at a stone, 300 
 
 Or as he dazzled walks the peopled streets, 
 
 Is ready justling every man he meets : 
 
 So then Apollo did in glory cast 
 
 His bright beams on a rock with gold enchas'd, 
 
 And thence the swift reflection of their light 305 
 
 Blinded those eyes, the chiefest stars of night. 
 
 When straight a thick-swoll'n cloud (as if it sought 
 
 In beauty's mind to have a thankful thought) 
 
 Inveil'd the lustre of great Titan's car, 
 
 And she beheld from whence she sat, not far, 310 
 
 Cut on a high-brow'd rock, inlaid with gold, 
 
 This epitaph, and read it, thus enroll'd : 
 
 In depth of waves long hath Alexis slept, 
 
 So choicest jewels are the closest kept ; 
 
 Whose death the land had seen, but it appears 315 
 
 To countervail his loss men wanted tears. 
 
 So here he lies, whose dirge each mermaid sings, 
 
 For whom the clouds weep rain, the Earth her springs. 
 
 Her eyes these lines acquainted with her mind 
 Had scarcely made, when o'er the hill behind 320 
 She heard a woman cry : " Ah well-a-day, 
 WTiat shall I do ? Go home, or fly, or stay ? " 
 
200 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Admir'd Marina rose, and with a pace 
 
 As graceful as the goddesses did trace 
 
 O'er stately Ida when fond Paris' doom 325 
 
 Kindled the fire should mighty Troy entomb, 
 
 She went to aid the woman in distress, 
 
 (True beauty never was found merciless-) 
 
 Yet durst she not go nigh lest, being spied, 
 
 Some villain's outrage that might then betide, 330 
 
 For ought she knew, unto the crying maid, 
 
 Might grasp with her : by thickets which array'd 
 
 The high sea-bounding hill so near she went, 
 
 She saw what wight made such loud dreriment. 
 
 Loud ? yes : sung right : for since the azure sky 335 
 
 Imprison'd first the world, a mortal's cry 
 
 With greater clangour nevei pierc'd the air. 
 
 A wight she was so far from being fair ; 
 None could be foul esteem'd compar'd with her. 
 
 Describing foulness, pardon if I err, 340 
 Ye shepherds' daughters, and ye gentle swains I 
 My Muse would gladly chant more lovely strains : 
 Yet since on miry grounds she trod, for doubt 
 Of sinking, all in haste, thus wades she out. 
 As when great Neptune in his height of pride 345 
 The inland creeks fills with a high spring-tide, 
 Great shoals of fish among the oysters hie, 
 Which by a quick ebb on the shores left dry, 
 
 325. — Doom, judgment. 
 
 334. — Drerimen t, lamentation-. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 201 
 
 The fishes yawn, the oysters gapen wide : 
 
 So broad her mouth was. As she stood and cried, 350 
 
 She tore her elvish knots of hair, as black 
 
 And full of dust as any collier's sack. 
 
 Her eyes, unlike, were like her body right, 
 
 Squint and misshapen, one dun, t'other white. 
 
 As in a picture limn'd unto the life, 355 
 Or carved by a curious workman's knife, 
 If twenty men at once should come to see 
 The great effects of untir'd industry, 
 Each sev'rally would think the picture's eye 
 Was fix'd on him and on no stander-by : 360 
 So as she bawling was upon the bank, 
 If twice five hundred men stood on a rank, 
 Her ill face towards them, every one would say, 
 She looks on me ; when she another way 
 Had cast her eyes, as on some rock or tree, 365 
 And on no one of all that company. 
 Her nose (O crooked nose !) her mouth o'erhung, 
 As it would be directed by her tongue : 
 Her forehead such, as one might near avow [370 
 Some ploughman there had lately been at plough. 
 Her face so scorch'd was, and so vild it shows, 
 ^As on a pear-tree she had scar'd the crows. 
 Within a tanner's fat I oft have eyed 
 (That three moons there had lain) a large ox-hide 
 In liquor mix'd with strongest bark (for gain) 375 
 
 351.— Elvish knots, elf-locks, tangled hair. 
 373-— Tat, vat. 
 
BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 
 
 Yet had not ta'en one-half so deep a stain 
 
 As had her skin, and that as hard well-nigh 
 
 As any brawns long harden'd in the sty. 
 
 Her shoulders such, as I have often seen 
 
 A silly cottage on a village green 3 8 ° 
 
 Might change his corner-posts ; in good behoof, 
 
 For four such under-proppers to his roof. 
 
 Housewives, go hire her, if you yearly gave 
 
 A lambkin more than use, you that might save 
 
 In washing-beetles, for her hands would pass 385 
 
 To serve that purpose, though you daily wash. 
 
 For other hidden parts thus much I say ; 
 
 As ballad-mongers on a market-day 
 
 Taking their stand, one (with as harsh a noise 
 
 As ever cart-wheel made) squeaks the sad choice 390 
 
 Of Tom the Miller with a golden thumb, 
 
 Who, cross'd in love, ran mad and deaf and dumb ; 
 
 Half part he chants, and will not sing it out, 
 
 But thus he speaks to his attentive rout : 
 
 Thus much for love I warbled from my breast, 395 
 
 And, gentle friends, for money take the rest : 
 
 So speak I to the over-longing ear, 
 
 That would the rest of her description hear, 
 
 Much have I sung for love, the rest (not common) 
 
 Martial will show for coin in 's crabbed woman. 400 
 
 378. — Brawns, hogs. 
 
 380. — Silly, simple, humble. 
 
 ^.—Washing-beetles, or batlets, instruments with which 
 washers beat their coarse clothes. 
 
Song i J BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 203 
 
 If e'er you saw a pedant 'gin prepare 
 To speak some graceful speech to master mayor, 
 And being bashful, with a quaking doubt 
 That in his eloquence he may be out, 
 He oft steps forth, as oft turns back again ; 405 
 And long 'tis ere he ope his learned vein : 
 Think so Marina stood : for now she thought 
 To venture forth, then some conjecture wrought 
 Her to be jealous left this ugly wight, [410 
 Since like a witch she look'd, through spells of night 
 Might make her body thrall that yet was free 
 To all the foul intents of witchery : 
 This drew her back again. At last she broke 
 Through all fond doubts, went to her, and bespoke 
 In gentle manner thus : Good day, good maid ; 5 
 With that her cry she on a sudden stay'd, 
 And rubb'd her squint eyes with her mighty fist 
 But as a miller, having ground his grist, 
 Lets down his flood-gates with a speedy fall, 
 And quarring up the passage therewithal, 420 
 The waters swell in spleen, and never stay 
 Till by some cleft they find another way : 
 So when her tears were stopp'd from either eye 
 Her singults, blubb'rings seem'd to make them fly 
 Out at her oyster-mouth and nosethrils wide. 425 
 Can there (quoth fair Marina) e'er betide 
 
 414. — Fond, foolish. 
 420 —Quarring, closing-. 424. — Singults, sobs. 
 
 425.— Nosethrils, nor trils. 
 
20 4 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 In these sweet groves a wench so great a wrong, 
 
 That should enforce a cry so loud, so long ? 
 
 On these delightful plains how can there be 
 
 So much as heard the name of villainy ? 430 
 
 Except when shepherds in their gladsome fit 
 
 Sing hymns to Pan that they are free from it. 
 
 But show me, what hath caus'd thy grievous yell ? 
 As late (quoth she) I went to yonder well, 
 (You cannot see it here ; that grove doth cover 435 
 With his thick boughs his little channel over) 
 To fetch some water, as I use, to dress 
 My master's supper (you may think of flesh ; 
 But well I wot he tasteth no such dish) 
 Of rotchets, whitings, or such common fish, 440 
 That with his net he drags into his boat : 
 Among the flags below there stands his cote, 
 A simple one, thatch'd o'er with reed and broom ; 
 It hath a kitchen and a several room 
 For each of us. — But this is nought : you flee, 445 
 Replied Marine, I prithee answer me 
 To what I question'd. Do but hear me first, 
 Answer'd the hag. He is a man so curst, 
 Although I toil at home, and serve his swine, 
 Yet scarce allows he me whereon to dine : 450 
 In summer time on blackberries I live, 
 On crabs and haws, and what wild forests give : 
 In winter's cold, barefoot, I run to seek 
 
 440. — Rotchets ; piper-fish. 
 
 442.— Cote, cottage. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 205 
 
 For oysters and small winkles in each creek, 
 
 Whereon I feed, and on the meagre slone. 455 
 
 But if he home return and find me gone, 
 
 I still am sure to feel his heavy hand. 
 
 Alas and wealaway, since now I stand 
 
 In such a plight : for if I seek his door 
 
 He'll beat me ten times worse than e'er before, 460 
 
 What hast thou done ? (yet ask'd Marina) say? 
 
 I with my pitcher lately took my way 
 
 (As late I said) to thilk same shaded spring, 
 
 Fill'd it, and homewards, rais'd my voice to sing ; 
 
 But in my back return, I (hapless) spied 465 
 
 A tree of cherries wild, and them I eyed 
 
 With such a longing that unwares my foot 
 
 Got underneath a hollow-growing root ; 
 
 Carrying my pot as maids use on their heads, 
 
 I fell with it, and broke it all to shreds. 470 
 
 This is my grief, this is my cause of moan. 
 
 And if some kind wight go not to atone 
 
 My surly master with me, wretched maid, 
 
 I shall be beaten dead. Be not afraid, 
 
 Said sweet Marina, hasten thee before; 475 
 
 I'll come to make thy peace : for since I sore 
 
 Do hunger, and at home thou hast small cheer, 
 
 (Need and supply grow far off, seldom near,) 
 
 To yonder grove I'll go to taste the spring, 
 
 And see what it affords for nourishing. 480 
 
 4SS.—Slone, sloe. 463. — Thilk % that. 
 
2o6 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Thus parted they. And sad Marina blest 
 
 The hour she met the maid, who did invest 
 
 Her in assured hope she once should see 
 
 Her flock again and drive them merrily 
 
 To their flower-decked lair, and tread the shores 485 
 
 Of pleasant Albion through the well-pois'd oars 
 
 Of the poor fisherman that dwelt thereby. 
 
 But as a man who in a lottery 
 Hath ventur'd of his coin, ere he have ought, 
 Thinks this or that shall with his prize be bought, 493 
 And so enrich 'd, march with the better rank, 
 When suddenly he's call'd, and all is blank : 
 To chaste Marina so doth Fortune prove, 
 " Statesmen and she are never firm in love." 
 
 No sooner had Marina got the wood, 495 
 But as the trees she nearly search 'd for food, 
 A villain lean as any rake appears, 
 That look'd, as pinch'd with famine, Egypt's years, 
 Worn out and wasted to the pithless bone, 
 As one that had a long consumption. 500 
 His rusty teeth (forsaken of his lips 
 As they had serv'd with want two 'prenticeships) 
 Did through his pallid cheek and lankest skin 
 Bewray what number were enrank'd within. 
 His greedy eyes deep sunk into his head, 505 
 Which with a rough hair was o'ercovered. 
 How many bones made up this starved wight 
 
 4Q6.— . 
 
 ■Nearly, narrowly. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 207 
 
 Was soon perceiv'd ; a man of dimmest sight 
 Apparently might see them knit, and tell 
 How all his veins and every sinew fell. 510 
 His belly inwards drawn, his bowels press'd, 
 His unfill'd skin hung dangling on his breast, 
 His feeble knees with pain enough uphold 
 That pined carcase, casten in a mould 
 Cut out by Death's grim form. If small legs wan 515 
 Ever the title of a gentleman, 
 His did acquire it. In his flesh pull'd down 
 As he had liv'd in a beleaguer'd town, 
 Where plenty had so long estranged Ueen 
 That men most worthy note in grief were seen 520 
 (Though they rejoic'd to have attain'd such meat) 
 Of rats and half-tann'd hides with stomachs great 
 Gladly to feed : and where a nurse, most vild, 
 Drunk her own milk, and starv'd her crying child. 
 Yet he through want of food not thus became : 525 
 But Nature first decreed, that as the flame 
 Is never seen to fly his nourishment, 
 But all consumes : and still the more is lent 
 The more it covets : and as all the floods, 
 Down trenching from small groves and greater 
 woods, 530 
 The vast insatiate sea doth still devour, 
 And yet his thirst not quenched by their power : 
 So ever should befall this starved wight, 
 
 530. — Down trenching, flowing down through made channels. 
 
2o8 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS.- [Book 2. 
 
 The more his viands more his appetite. 
 
 Whate'er the deeps bring forth, or earth, or air, 535 
 
 He ravine should, and want in greatest fare. 
 
 And what a city twice seven j^ears would serve, 
 
 He should devour, and yet be like to starve. 
 
 A wretch so empty, that if e'er there be 
 
 In Nature found the least vacuity, 540 
 
 'Twill be in him. The grave to Ceres' store ; 
 
 A cannibal to lab'rers old and poor ; 
 
 A sponge-like dropsy, drinking till it burst ; 
 
 The sickness term'd the wolf, vild and accurs'd ; 
 
 In some respects like th' art of alchemy, 545 
 
 That thrives least when it long'st doth multiply. 
 
 Limos he cleeped was : whose long-nail'd paw 
 
 Seizing Marina, and his sharp-fang'd jaw 
 
 (The strongest part he had) fix'd in her weeds, [550 
 
 He forc'd her thence, through thickets and high reeds, 
 
 Towards his cave. Her fate the swift winds rue, 
 
 And round the grove in heavy murmurs flew. 
 
 The limbs of trees that, as in love with either, 
 
 In close embracements long had liv'd together, 
 
 Rubb'd each on other, and in shrieks did show 555 
 
 The winds had mov'd more partners of their woe. 
 
 Old and decayed stocks that long time spent 
 
 Upon their arms their roots' chief nourishment, 
 
 And that drawn dry, as freely did impart 
 
 Their boughs a-feeding 0.1 their father's heart, 56° 
 
 547.— Lzvios, the Greek word for famine. 
 
Song i J BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 209 
 
 Yet by respectless imps when all was gone, 
 Pithless and sapless, naked left alone, 
 Their hollow trunks, fill'd with their neighbours' 
 moans, 
 
 Sent from a thousand vents ten thousand groans. 
 All birds flew from the wood, as they had been 565 
 Scar'd with a strong bolt rattling 'mong the treen. 
 
 Limos with his sweet theft nV.l slily rushes 
 Through sharp-hook'd brambles, thorns, and tangling 
 bushes, 
 
 Whose tenters sticking in her garments sought, 
 Poor shrubs, to help her, but availing nought, 570 
 As angry (best intents miss'd best proceeding) 
 They scratch'd his face and legs, clear water bleed- 
 ing. 
 
 Not greater haste a fearful school-boy makes 
 
 Out of an orchard whence by stealth he takes 
 
 A churlish farmer's plums, sweet pears or grapes.. 575 
 
 Than Limos did, as from the thick he 'scapes 
 
 Down to the shore. Where resting him a space, 
 
 Restless Marina 'gan entreat for grace 
 
 Of one whose knowing it as desp'rate stood, 
 
 As where each clay to get supply of food. 580 
 
 O ! had she thirsty such entreaty made 
 At some high rock, proud of his evening shade, 
 He would have burst in two, and from his veins, 
 For her avail, upon the under plains 
 
 569. — Tenters, prickles 
 VOL. I. P 
 
2io BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 A hundred springs a hundred ways should swim, 585 
 
 To show her tears enforced floods from him. 
 
 Had such an oratress been heard to plead 
 
 For fair Polyxena, the murth'rer's head 
 
 Had been her pardon, and so 'scap'd that shock, 
 
 Which made her lover's tomb her dying block. 590 
 
 Not an enraged lion, surly, wood ; 
 
 No tiger reft her young, nor savage brood ; 
 
 No, not the foaming boar, that durst approve 
 
 Loveless to leave the mighty Queen of Love, 
 
 But her sad plaints their uncouth walks among 595 
 
 Spent in sweet numbers from her golden tongue, 
 
 So much their great hearts would in softness steep, 
 
 They at her foot would grovelling lie and weep. 
 
 Yet now (alas !) nor words, nor floods of tears 
 
 Did ought avail. The belly hath no ears. 600 f 
 
 As I have known a man loath meet with gain 
 That carrieth in his front least show of pain, 
 Who for his victuals all his raiment pledges, 
 Whose stacks for firing are his neighbours' hedges, 
 From whence returning with a burden great, 605 
 Weaned, on some green bank he takes his seat, 
 But fearful (as still theft is in his stay) 
 Gets quickly up, and hasteth fast away : 
 
 588. — Murth'rers head, that of Paris, who treacherously 
 slew Achilles, the lover of Polyxena. 
 591. — Wood, mad or wild. 
 
 593. — The foaming boar, etc., alluding to Adonis, beloved 
 of Venus, who met his death while hunting a boar. 
 595. — Uncouth, unfrequented. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 211 
 
 So Limos sooner eased than yrested 
 
 Was up and through the reeds (as much molested 610 
 
 As in the brakes) who lovingly combine, 
 
 And for her aid together twist and twine ; 
 
 Now manacling his hands, then on his legs 
 
 Like fetters hang the under-growing segs : 
 
 And had his teeth not been of strongest hold, 615 
 
 He there had left his prey. Fates uncontroll'd 
 
 Denied so great a bliss to plants or men, 
 
 And lent him strength to bring her to his den. 
 
 West, in Apollo's course to Tagus' stream, 
 Crown'd with a silver-circling diadem 620 
 Of wet exhaled mists, there stood a pile 
 Of aged rocks (torn from the neighbour isle 
 And girt with waves) against whose naked breast 
 The surges tilted, on his snowy crest 
 The tow'ring falcon whilom built, and kings 625 
 Strove for that aerie, on whose scaling wings 
 Monarchs in gold refin'd as much would lay 
 As might a month their army royal pay. 
 Brave birds they were, whose quick, self-less'ning kin 
 Still won the girlonds from the peregrine.* 630 * A falcon 
 Not Cerna Isle in Afric's silver main, fhffafcln- 
 Nor lustful -bloody-Tereus' Thracian strain, gentle. 
 Nor any other lording of the air, 
 Durst with this aerie for their wing compare. 
 
 614. — Segs, sedges. 
 
 630. — Girlonds, garlands. 
 
 631. — Cerna Isle, Mauritius. 
 
 p 2 
 
212 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 About his sides a thousand sea-gulls bred, 635 
 
 The mevy and the halcyon famosed 
 
 For colours rare, and for the peaceful seas 
 
 Round the Sicilian coast, her brooding days. 
 
 Puffins (as thick as starlings in a fen) [640 
 
 Were fetch'd from thence : there sat the pewet hen, 
 
 And in the clefts the martin built his nest. 
 
 But those by this curs'd caitiff dispossess'd 
 
 Of roost and nest, the least ; of life, the most : 
 
 All left that place, and sought a safer coast. 
 
 Instead of them the caterpillar haunts, 645 
 
 And cankerworm among the tender plants, 
 
 That here and there in nooks and corners grew 
 
 Of cormorants and locusts not a few ; 
 
 The cramming raven, and a hundred more 
 
 Devouring creatures ; yet when from the shore 650 
 
 Limos came wading (as he easily might 
 
 Except at high tides) all would take their flight, 
 
 Or hide themselves in some deep hole or other, 
 
 Lest one devourer should devour another. 
 
 Near to the shore that border'd on the rock 655 
 No merry swain was seen to feed his flock, 
 No lusty neatherd thither drove his kine, 
 Nor boorish hogherd fed his rooting swine : 
 A stony ground it was, sweet herbage fail'd : 
 Nought there but weeds, which Limos, strongly 
 nail'd, 660 
 
 636.— Mevy, sea-mew. Halcyon^ kingfisher. Famosed, 
 celebrated. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 2x3 
 
 Tore from their mother's breast to stuff his maw. 
 
 No crab-tree bore his load, nor thorn his haw. 
 
 As in a forest well complete with deer 
 
 We see the hollies, ashes, everywhere 
 
 Robb'd of their clothing by the browsing game : 665 
 
 So near the rock all trees where'er you came, 
 
 To cold December's wrath stood void of bark. 
 
 Here danc'd no nymph, no early-rising lark 
 
 Sung up the ploughman and his drowsy mate : 
 
 All round the rock['s] barren and desolate. 670 
 
 In midst of that huge pile was Limos' cave,* * The de- 
 
 Full large and round, wherein a miller's knave the ?£ve of 
 
 Might for his horse and quern have room at will : Famine. 
 Where was out-drawn by some enforced skill 
 What mighty conquests were achiev'd by him. 675 
 First stood the siege of great Jerusalem, 
 Within whose triple wall and sacred city — 
 (Weep, ye stone-hearted men ! oh, read and pity ! 
 'Tis Sion's cause invokes your briny tears : 
 Can any dry eye be when she appears 680 
 As I must-sing her ? oh, if such there be, 
 Fly, fly th' abode of men ! and hasten thee 
 Into the desert, some high mountain under, 
 Or at thee boys will hiss, and old men wonder) — 
 Here sits a mother weeping, pale and wan, 685 
 With fixed eyes, whose hopeless thoughts seem'd 
 ran 
 
 672.— Knave, servant. 
 
 673. — Quern, mill. 
 
214 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Boole I. 
 
 How (since for many days no food she tasted, 
 Her meal, her oil consum'd, all spent, all wasted) 
 For one poor day she might attain supply, 
 And desp'rate of aught else, sit, pine, and die. 690 
 At last her mind meets with her tender child 
 That in the cradle lay (of osiers wild), 
 Which taken in her arms, she gives the teat, 
 From whence the little wretch with labour great 
 Not one poor drop can suck : whereat she, wood, 695 
 Cries out, O Heaven ! are all the founts of food 
 Exhausted quite? and must my infant young 
 Be fed with shoes ? yet wanting those ere long, 
 Feed on itself? No, first the room that gave 
 Him soul and life shall be his timeless grave : 700 
 My dugs, thy best relief, through griping hunger 
 Flow now no more, my babe ; then since no 
 longer 
 
 By me thou canst be fed, nor any other, 
 
 Be thou the nurse and feed thy dying mother. 
 
 Then in another place she straight appears, 705 
 
 Seething her suckling in her scalding tears. 
 
 From whence not far the painter made her stand 
 
 Tearing his sod flesh with her cruel hand 
 
 In gobbets which she ate. O cursed womb, 
 
 That to thyself art both the grave and tomb. 710 
 
 A little sweet lad, there, seems to entreat 
 With held up hands his famish'd sire for meat, 
 Who wanting aught to give his hoped joy 
 But throbs and sighs ; the over-hungry boy, 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 215 
 
 For some poor bit in dark nooks making quest, 715 
 His satchel finds, which grows a gladsome feast 
 To him and both his parents. Then, next day- 
 He chews the points wherewith he us'd to play : 
 Devouring last his books of every kind, 
 They fed his body which should feed his mind : 720 
 But when his satchel, points, books all were gone, 
 Before his sire he droops, and dies anon. 
 
 In height of art then had the workman done, 
 A pious, zealous, most religious son, 
 Who on the enemy excursion made, 725 
 And spite of danger strongly did invade 
 Their victuals' convoy, bringing from them home 
 Dri'd figs, dates, almonds, and such fruits as come 
 To the beleag'ring foe, and sates the want 
 Therewith of those who from a tender plant 730 
 Bred him a man for arms : thus oft he went, 
 And stork-like sought his parents' nourishment, 
 Till fates decreed he on the Roman spears 
 Should give his blood for them who gave him 
 theirs. 
 
 A million of such throes did Famine bring 735 
 Upon the city of the mighty king, 
 Till, as her people, all her buildings rare 
 Consum'd themselves and dimm'd the lightsome air. 
 
 Near this the curious pencil did express 
 A large and solitary wilderness, 740 
 Whose high well-limned oaks in growing show'd 
 As they would ease strong Atlas of his load ; 
 
216 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2, 
 
 Here underneath a tree in heavy plight, 
 
 Her bread and pert of water wasted quite, 
 
 Egyptian Hagar, nipp'd with hunger fell, 745 
 
 Sat robb'd of hope : her infant Ishmael, 
 
 Far from her being laid, full sadly seem'd 
 
 To cry for meat, his cry she naught esteemed, 
 
 But kept her still, and turn'd her face away, 
 
 Knowing all means were bootless to assay 750 
 
 In such a desert ; and since now they must 
 
 Sleep their eternal sleep, and cleave to dust, 
 
 She chose apart to grasp one death alone, 
 
 Rather than by her babe a million. 
 
 Then Eresichthon ? s case in Ovid's song 755 
 Was portrayed out ; and many more along 
 The insides of the cave, which were descried 
 By many loop-holes round on every side. 
 
 These fair Marina view'd, left all alone, 
 The cave fast shut, Limos for pillage gone % 76a 
 Near the washed shore 'mong roots and breers and 
 thorns, 
 
 A bullock finds, who delving with bis horns 
 
 The hurtless earth (the while his tough hoof tore 
 
 The yielding turf) in furious rage he bore 
 
 His head among the boughs that held it round, 765 
 
 While with his bellows all the shores resound : 
 
 755- — Eresichthon, a son of Triopas, who cut down trees in 
 a grove sacred to Demeter, for which he was punished by the 
 goddess with fearful hunger. 
 
 761. — BreerSy briars. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 217 
 
 Him Limos kill'd, and hal'd with no small pain 
 Unto the rock ; fed well ; then goes again : 
 Which serv'd Marina fit, for had his food [770 
 Fail'd him, her veins had fail'd their dearest blood. 
 
 Now great Hyperion left his golden throne 
 That on the dancing waves in glory shone, 
 For whose declining on the western shore 
 The oriental hills black mantles wore, 
 And thence apace the gentle twilight fled, 775 
 That had from hideous caverns ushered 
 All-drowsy Night, who in a car of jet, 
 By steeds of iron-grey, which mainly sweat 
 Moist drops on all the world, drawn through the sky, 
 The helps of darkness waited orderly. 78° 
 First thick clouds rose from all the liquid plains ; 
 Then mists from marishes, and grounds whose veins 
 Were conduit-pipes to many a crystal spring ; 
 From standing pools and fens were following 
 Unhealthy fogs ; each river, every rill 785 
 Sent up their vapours to attend her will 
 These pitchy curtains drew 'twixt earth and heaven. 
 And as Night's chariot through the air was driven, 
 Clamour grew dumb, unheard was shepherd's song, 
 And silence girt the woods ; no warbling tongue 790 
 Talk'd to the Echo ; satyrs broke their dance, 
 And all the upper world lay in a trance. 
 Only the curled streams soft chidings kept ; 
 
 782.— Marishes, marshes. 
 
218 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And little gales that from the green leaf swept 
 
 Dry summer's dust, in fearful whisp'rings stirr'd, 795 
 
 As loath to waken any singing bird. 
 
 Darkness no less than blind Cimmerian 
 Of Famine's cave the full possession wan, 
 Where lay the shepherdess inwrapt with night, 
 The wished garment of a mournful wight. 800 
 Here silken slumbers and refreshing sleep 
 Were seldom found ; with quiet minds those keep, 
 Not with disturbed thoughts ; the beds of kings 
 Are never press'd by them, sweet rest enrings 
 The tired body of the swarty clown, 805 
 And oft'ner lies on flocks than softest down. 
 
 Twice had the cock crown, and in cities strong 
 The bellman's doleful noise and careful song 
 Told men, whose watchful eyes no slumber hent, 
 What store of hours theft-guilty night had spent. 810 
 Yet had not Morpheus with this maiden been, 
 As fearing Limos, whose impetuous teen 
 Kept gentle rest from all to whom his cave 
 Yielded enclosure deadly as the grave ; 
 But to all sad laments left her forlorn, 815 
 In which three watches she had nigh outworn. 
 
 Fair silver-footed Thetis that time threw 
 Along the ocean with a beauteous crew 
 Of her attending sea-nymphs, Jove's bright lamps 
 
 805.— Swarty, sunburnt. Bog.— Hent, took, seized. 
 812. — Teetii violence. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 219 
 
 Guiding from rocks her chariot's hippocamps :* 820 * Sea-horses. 
 
 A journey only made unwares to spy 
 
 If any mighties of her empery 
 
 Oppress'd the least, and forc'd the weaker sort 
 
 To their designs by being great in court. 
 
 O ! should all potentates whose higher birth 825 
 
 Enrols their titles, other gods On earth, 
 
 Should they make private search, in veil of night, 
 
 For cruel wrongs done by each favourite ; 
 
 Here should they find a great one paling in 
 
 A mean man's land, which many years had been 830 
 
 His charge's life, and by the other's hest, 
 
 The poor must starve to feed a scurvy beast. 
 
 If any recompense drop from his fist, 
 
 His time's his own, the money w"hat he list. 
 
 There should they see another that commands 835 
 
 His farmer's team from furrowing his lands, 
 
 To bring him stones to raise his building vast, 
 
 The while his tenant's sowing time is past. 
 
 Another (spending) doth his rents enhance, 
 
 Or gets by tricks the poor's inheritance. 840 
 
 But as a man whose age hath dimm'd his eyes, 
 
 Useth his spectacles, and as he prys 
 
 Through them all characters seem wondrous fair, 
 
 Yet when his glasses quite removed are, 
 
 Though with all careful heed he nearly look, 845 
 
 Cannot perceive one tittle in the book ; 
 
 831.— /to 1 , command. 
 
 845.— Nearly > closely. 
 
220 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 So if a king behold such favourites, 
 
 Whose being great was being parasites, 
 
 With th' eyes of favour, all their actions are 
 
 To him appearing plain and regular : 850 
 
 But let him lay his sight of grace aside, 
 
 And see what men he hath so dignified, 
 
 They all would vanish, and not dare appear, 
 
 Who, atom -like, when their sun shined clear, 
 
 Danc'd in his beam ; but now his rays are gone, 855 
 
 Of many hundred we perceive not one. 
 
 Or as a man who, standing to descry 
 
 How great floods far off run, and valleys lie, 
 
 Taketh a glass prospective good and true, 
 
 By which things most remote are full in view : 860 
 
 If monarchs, so, would take an instrument 
 
 Of truth compos'd to spy their subjects drent 
 
 In foul oppression by those high in seat, 
 
 Who care not to be good but to be great, 
 
 In full aspect the wrongs of each degree 865 
 
 Would lie before them ; and they then would see 
 
 The devilish politician all convinces, 
 
 In murd'ring statesmen and in pois'ning princes ; 
 
 The prelate in pluralities asleep, 
 
 Whilst that the wolf lies preying on his sheep ; 870 
 
 The drowsy lawyer, and the false attorneys 
 
 Tire poor men's purses with their lifelong journeys ; 
 
 The country gentleman from 's neighbour's hand 
 
 862. — Drent, drowned. 
 
 %6-j.— Convinces, overthrows. 
 
Song I.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 221 
 
 Forceth th' inheritance, joins land to land, 
 And most insatiate seeks under his rent 875 
 To bring the world's most spacious continent ; 
 The fawning citizen (whose love's bought dearest) 
 Deceives his brother when the sun shines clearest, 
 Gets, borrows, breaks, lets in, and stops out light, 
 And lives a knave to leave his son a knight ; 880 
 The griping farmer hoards the seed of bread, 
 Whilst in the streets the poor lie famished : 
 And free there's none from all this worldly strife, 
 Except the shepherd's heaven-bless'd happy life. [885 
 But stay, sweet Muse, forbear this harsher strain ! 
 Keep with the shepherds ; leave the satyrs' vein ; 
 Coop not with bears ; Jet Icarus alone 
 To scorch himself within the torrid zone : 
 Let Phaeton run on, Ixion fall, 
 
 And with an humble styled Pastoral 890 
 
 Tread through the valleys, dance about the streams. 
 
 The lowly dales will yield us anadems 
 
 To shade our temples, 'tis a worthy meed, 
 
 No better garland seeks mine oaten reed ; 
 
 Let others climb the hills, and^to their praise, 895 
 
 Whilst I sit girt with flowers, be crown'd with bays. 
 
 Show now, fair Muse, what afterward became 
 Of great Achilles' mother ; she whose name 
 The mermaids sing, and tell the weeping strand 
 A braver lady never tripp'd on land, 900 
 
 892.— A nadems, garlands. 
 
222 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Except the ever-living Faery Queen, 
 
 Whose virtues by her swain so written been, 
 
 That time shall call her high enhanced story 
 
 In his rare song, the Muses' chiefest glory. 
 
 So mainly Thetis drove her silver throne, 905 
 
 Inlaid with pearls of price and precious stone, 
 
 For whose gay purchase she did often make 
 
 The scorched negro dive the briny lake, 
 
 That by the swiftness of her chariot wheels, 
 
 Scouring the main as well-built English keels, 910 
 
 She of the new-found world all coasts had seen, 
 
 The shores of Thessaly, where she was queen, 
 
 Her brother Pontus' waves, embrac'd, with those 
 
 Mceotian fields and vales of Tenedos, [915 
 
 Strait Hellespont, whose high-brow'd cliffs yet sound 
 
 The mournful name of young Leander drown'd ; 
 
 Then with full speed her horses doth she guide 
 
 Through the ^Egean Sea, that takes a pride 
 
 In making difference 'twixt the fruitful lands, 
 
 Europe and Asia almost joining hands, 9 20 
 
 But that she thrusts her billows all afront 
 
 To stop their meeting through the Hellespont. 
 
 The Midland Sea so swiftly was she scouring, 
 
 The Adriatic gulf brave ships devouring. 
 
 To Padus' silver stream then glides she on, 925 
 
 Plin. lib. 3. Enfamoused by reckless Phaeton, 
 cap. 16. 
 
 902. — Swain, Spenser. 
 
 926. — Enfamoused) made famous. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 223 
 
 Padus that doth beyond his limits rise, 
 When the hot dog-star rains his maladies, 
 And robs the high and air-invading Alps 
 Of all their winter-suits and snowy scalps, 930 
 To drown the levell'd lands along his shore, 
 And make him swell with pride. By whom of yore 
 The sacred Heliconian damsels sat, 
 To whom was mighty Pindus consecrate, 
 And did decree, neglecting other men, 935 
 Their height of art should flow from Maro's pen ; 
 And prattling echoes evermore should long 
 For repetition of sweet Naso's song. 
 It was enacted here in after days 
 What wights should have their temples crown'd with 
 bays ; 940 
 Leam'd Ariosto, holy Petrarch's quill, 
 And Tasso should ascend the Muses' hill. 
 Divinest Barta*s, whose enriched soul 
 Proclaim'd his Maker's worth, should s*o enroll 
 His happy name in brass, that Time nor Fate 945 
 That swallow all, should ever ruinate : 
 Delightful Saluste, whose all-blessed lays 
 The shepherds make their hymns on holy-days ; 
 And truly say thou in one week hast penn'd 
 What time may ever study, ne'er amend. 950 
 Marot and Ronsard, Garnier's buskin'd Muse 
 
 947. — Saluste, Guillaume de Saluste du Bartas. See Note. 
 951. — Garnier's buskin'd Muse, the tragedies of Robert 
 Gamier, the French dramatist and poet (i 545-1601). 
 
224 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Should spirit of life in very stones infuse ; 
 And many another swan whose powerful strain 
 Should raise the golden world to life again. 
 
 But let us leave, fair Muse, the banks of Po ; 955 
 Thetis forsook his brave stream long ago, 
 And we must after. See, in haste she sweeps 
 Along the Celtic shores ; th' Armorick deeps 
 She now is ent'ring : bear up then ahead, 
 And by that time she hath discovered 960 
 Our alablaster rocks, we may descry 
 And ken with her the coasts of Britany. 
 There will she anchor cast to hear the songs 
 Of English shepherds, whose all-tuneful tongues 
 So pleas'd the naiades, they did report 965 
 Their songs' perfection in great Nereus' court : 
 Which Thetis hearing, did appoint a day 
 When she would meet them in the British Sea, 
 And thither for each swain a dolphin bring 
 To ride with her, whilst she would hear him sing. 970 
 The time prefix'd was come ; and now the star 
 Of blissful light appear'd, when she her car 
 Stay'd in the Narrow Seas. At Thames' fair port 
 The nymphs and shepherds of the Isle resort, 
 And thence did put to sea with mirthful rounds, 975 
 Whereat the billows dance above their bounds, 
 And bearded goats, that on the clouded head 
 
 958. — Armorick deeps \ the sea sweeping the coast between . 
 the Loire and the Seine. 
 973. — Narrow Seas, the Straits of Dover. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 225 
 
 Of any sea-surveying mountain fed, 
 
 Leaving to crop the ivy, list'ning stood 
 
 At those sweet airs which did entrance the flood. 980 
 
 In jocund sort the goddess thus they met, 
 
 And after rev'rence done, all being set 
 
 Upon their finny coursers round her throne, 
 
 And she prepar'd to cut the wat'ry zone 
 
 Engirting Albion, all their pipes were still, 985 
 
 And Colin Clout began to tune his quill 
 
 With such deep art, that every one was given 
 
 To think Apollo, newly slid from heav'n, 
 
 Had ta'en a human shape to win his love, 
 
 Or with the Western swains for glory strove. 990 
 
 He sung th' heroic knights of fairyland 
 
 In lines so elegant, of such command, 
 
 That had the Thracian* play'd but half so well, * Orpheus 
 
 He had not left Eurydice in hell. 
 
 But ere he ended his melodious song 995 
 
 An host of angels flew the clouds among, 
 
 And rapt this swan from his attentive mates 
 
 To make him one of their associates 
 
 In heaven's fair choir : where now he sings the praise 
 
 Of him that is the first and last of days. 1000 
 
 Divinest Spenser, heav'n-bred, happy Muse ! 
 
 Would any power into my brain infuse 
 
 Thy worth, or all that poets had before, 
 
 I could not praise till thou deserv'st no more. 
 
 986. — Colin Clout, Spenser. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Quill, pipe. 
 
 Q 
 
226 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 A damp of wonder and amazement strook 1005 
 Thetis' attendants ; many a heavy look 
 Follow'd sweet Spenser, till the ihick'ning air 
 Sight's further passage stopp'd. A passionate tear 
 Fell from each nymph, no shepherd's cheek was dry, 
 A doleful dirge, and mournful elegy 1010 
 Flew to the shore ; when mighty Nereus' queen, 
 In memory of what was heard and seen, 
 Employ'd a factor, fitted well with store 
 Of richest gems, refined Indian ore, 
 To raise, in honour of his worthy name, 1015 
 A pyrarris, whose head like winged Fame 
 Should pierce the clouds, yea, seem the stars to kiss, 
 And Mausolus' great tomb might shroud in his. 
 Her will had been performance, had not Fate, 
 That never knew how to commiserate, 1020 
 Suborn'd curs'd Avarice to lie in wait 
 For that rich prey — (gold is a taking bait) — 
 Who closely lurking like a subtle snake 
 Under the covert of a thorny brake, 
 Seiz'd on the factor by fair Thetis sent, 1025 
 And robb'd our Colin of his monument. 
 
 Ye English shepherds, sons of Memory, 
 For satires change your pleasing melody ; 
 Scourge, rail and curse that sacrilegious hand, 
 That more than fiend of hell, that Stygian brand, 1030 
 All-guilty Avarice, that worst of evil, 
 
 1005. — Damp, dejection. 
 
Song i.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 227 
 
 That gulf-devouring offspring of a devil : 
 
 Heap curse on curse so direful and so fell, 
 
 Their weight may press his damned soul to hell. 
 
 Is there a spirit so gentle can refrain 1035 
 
 To torture such ? O let a satyr's vein 
 
 Mix with that man ! to lash this hellish limb, 
 
 Or all our curses will descend on him. 
 
 For mine own part, although I now commerce 
 With lowly shepherds in as low a verse, 1040 
 If of my days I shall not see an end 
 Till more years press me, some few hours I'll spend 
 In rough hewn satires, and my busied pen 
 Shall jerk to death this infamy of men. 
 And like a Fury glowing coulters bear, 1045 
 With which — But see how yonder fondlings tear 
 Their fleeces in the brakes ; I must go free 
 Them of their bonds ; rest you here merrily 
 Till my return, when I will touch a string 
 Shall make the rivers dance and valleys ring. 1050 
 
 1037. — Limb, a term of reproach, e.g. a limb of Satan. 
 
 1044. — Jerk, beat. 
 
 1045. — Coulters, ploughshares. 
 
 1046. — Fondlings, lambs. 
 
228 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 
 
 THE SECOND SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 What shepherds on the sea were seen 
 To entertain the Ocean's Queen ; 
 Remond in search of Fida gone, 
 And for his love young Doridon ; 
 Their meeting with a woeful swain, 
 Mute, and not able to complain 
 His metamorphos'd mistress 5 wrong, 
 Is all the subject of this song. 
 
 The Muses' friend (grey-eyed Aurora) yet 
 Held all the meadows in a cooling sweat, 
 The milk-white gossamers not upwards snow'd, 
 Nor was the sharp and useful-steering goad 
 Laid on the strong-neck'd ox ; no gentle bud 
 The sun had dried ; the cattle chew'd the cud 
 Low levell'd on the grass ; no fly's quick sting 
 Enforc'd the stonehorse in a furious ring 
 To tear the passive earth, nor lash his tail 
 About his buttocks broad ; the slimy snail 
 Might on the wainscot, by his many mazes, 
 Winding meanders and self-knitting traces, 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 229 
 
 Be follow'd where he stuck, his glittering slime 
 
 Not yet wip'd off. It was so early time, 
 
 The careful smith had in his sooty forge 15 
 
 Kindled no coal ; nor did his hammers urge 
 
 His neighbours' patience : owls abroad did fly, 
 
 And day as then might plead his infancy. 
 
 Yet of fair Albion all the western swaines 
 
 Were long since up, attending on the plains 20 
 
 When Nereus' daughter with her mirthful host 
 
 Should summon them on their declining coast. 
 
 But since her stay was long, for fear the sun 
 Should find them idle, some of them begun 
 To leap and wrestle, others threw the bar ; 25 
 Some from the company removed are 
 To meditate the songs they meant to play, 
 Or make a new round for next holiday. 
 Some tales of love their love-sick fellows told : 
 Others were seeking stakes to pitch their fold. 30 
 This, all alone was mending of his pipe : 
 That, for his lass sought fruits most sweet, most ripe. 
 Here from the rest a lovely shepherd's boy 
 Sits piping on a hill, as if his joy 
 Would still endure, or else that age's frost 35 
 Should never make him think what he had lost. 
 Yonder a shepherdess knits by the springs, 
 Her hands still keeping time to what she sings : 
 Or seeming, by her song, those fairest hands 
 Were comforted in working. Near the sands 40 
 Of some sweet river sits a musing lad, 
 
230 BRITANNIA S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 That moans the loss of what he sometime had, 
 His love by death bereft : when fast by him 
 An aged swain takes place, as near the brim 
 Of 's grave as of the river, showing how 45 
 That as those floods, which pass along right now, 
 Are follow'd still by others from their spring, 
 And in the sea have all their burying : 
 Right so our times are known, our ages found, 
 (Nothing is permanent within this round,) 50 
 One age is now, another that succeeds, 
 Extirping all things which the former breeds : 
 Another follows that, doth new times raise, 
 New years, new months, new weeks, new hours, new 
 days, 
 
 Mankind thus goes like rivers from their spring, 55 
 
 And in the earth have all their burying. 
 
 Thus sat the old man counselling the young ; 
 
 Whilst, underneath a tree which overhung 
 
 The silver stream (as some delight it took 
 
 To trim his thick boughs in the crystal brook) 60 
 
 Were set a jocund crew of youthful swains, 
 
 Wooing their sweetings with delicious strains. 
 
 Sportive Oreades the hills descended, 
 
 The Hamadryades their hunting ended, 
 
 And in the high woods left the long-liv'd harts 65 
 
 To feed in peace, free from their winged darts ; 
 
 Floods, mountains, valleys, woods, each vacant lies 
 
 So.— Round, globe, world. fo.— Sweetings, sweethearts. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Of nymphs that by them danc'd their haydigyes : 
 
 For all those powers were ready to embrace 
 
 The present means to give our shepherds grace. 70 
 
 And underneath this tree (till Thetis came) 
 
 Many resorted, where a swain of name 
 
 Less than of worth : (and we do never own 
 
 Nor apprehend him best that most is known). 
 
 Fame is uncertain, who so swiftly flies 75 
 
 By th' unregarded shed where Virtue lies ; 
 
 She, ill-inform'd of Virtue's worth, pursu'th 
 
 In haste Opinion for the simple truth. 
 
 True Fame is ever liken'd to our shade, 
 
 He soonest misseth her that most hath made to 
 
 To overtake her ; whoso takes his wing, 
 
 Regardless of her, she'll be following : 
 
 Her true propriety she thus discovers. 
 
 " Loves her contemners, and contemns her lovers." 
 
 Th' applause of common people never yet I 5 
 
 Pursu'd this swain ; he knew 't the counterfeit 
 
 Of settled praise, and therefore at his songs, 
 
 Though all the shepherds and the graceful throngs 
 
 Of semi-gods compar'd him with the best 
 
 That ever touch'd a reed, or was address'd 90 
 
 In shepherd's coat, he never would approve 
 
 Their attributes given in sincerest love ; 
 
 Except he truly knew them as his merit. 
 
 Fame gives«a second life to such a spirit. 
 
 68. — Haydigyes, rural dances. 
 
232 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book r 
 
 This swain, entreated by the mirthful rout, 95 
 That with entwined arms lay round about 
 The tree 'gainst which he lean'd, (so have I seen 
 Tom Piper stand upon our village green, 
 Baok'd with the May-pole, whilst a jocund crew 
 In gentle motion circularly threw 100 
 Themselves about him), to his fairest ring 
 Thus 'gan in numbers well according sing : 
 
 Venus by Adonis' side 
 
 Crying kiss'd, and kissing cried, 
 
 Wrung her hands and tore her hair 105 
 
 For Adonis dying there. 
 
 Stay (quoth she) O stay and live \ 
 
 Nature surely doth not give 
 
 To the earth her sweetest flowers 
 
 To be seen but some few hours. 1 10 
 
 On his face, still as he bled 
 For each drop a tear she shed, 
 Which she kiss'd or wip'd away, 
 Else had drown'd him where he lay. 
 
 Fair Proserpina (quoth she) 115 
 Shall not have thee yet from me ; 
 Nor thy soul to fly begin 
 While my lips can keep it in. 4 
 
 98. — Tom Piper, one of the characters making up a inarris 
 dance (Bkand, Pop. Antiq^ ecL Bohn, L 266-7). 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 233 
 
 Here she clos'd again. And some 
 
 Say Apollo would have come 120 
 
 To have cur'd his wounded limb, 
 
 But that she had smother'd him. 
 
 Look as a traveller in summer's day, 
 Nigh chok'd with dust and molt with Titan's ray, 
 Longs for a spring to cool his inward heat, 125 
 And to that end with vows doth Heaven entreat, 
 When going further finds an apple-tree, 
 Standing as did old Hospitality, 
 With ready arms to succour any needs : 
 Hence plucks an apple, tastes it, and it breeds 130 
 So great a liking in him for his thirst, 
 That up he climbs, and gathers to the first 
 A second, third ; nay, will not cease to pull 
 Till he have got his cap and pockets full : 
 " Things long desir'd so well esteemed are, 135 
 That when they come we hold them better far. 
 There is no mean 'twixt what we love and want, 
 Desire, in men, is so predominant : " 
 No less did all this quaint assembly long 
 Than doth the traveller : this shepherd's song 140 
 Had so ensnar'd each acceptable ear, 
 That but a second, naught could bring them clear 
 From an affected Snare ; had Orpheus been 
 Playing, some distance from them, he had seen 
 Not one to stir a foot for his rare strain, 145 
 But left the Thracian for the English swain. 
 
234 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Or had suspicious Juno (when her Jove 
 
 * 15. Into a cow transform'd his fairest love*) 
 
 Great Inachus' sweet stem in durance given 
 
 * Mercury. To this young lad, the messenger of heaven,* 150 
 
 Fair Maia's offspring, with the depth of art 
 
 That ever Jove to Hermes might impart, 
 
 In fing'ring of a reed, had never won 
 
 Poor Id's freedom. And though Arctor's son, 
 
 Hundred-ey'd Argus, might be lull'd by him, 155 
 
 And loose his pris'ner, yet in every limb 
 
 That god of wit had felt this shepherd's skill, 
 
 And by his charms brought from the Muses' hill 
 
 Enforc'd to sleep ; then, robb'd of pipe and rod, 
 
 And vanquish'd so, turn swain, this swain a god. 160 
 
 Yet to this lad not wanted Envy's sting, 
 
 (" He's not worth aught that's not worth envying,'') 
 
 Since many at his praise were seen to grutch. 
 
 For as a miller in his bolting-hutch 
 
 Drives out the pure meal nearly as he can, 165 
 
 And in his sifter leaves the coarser bran : 
 
 So doth the canker of a poet's name 
 
 Let slip such lines as might inherit fame, 
 
 And from a volume culls some small amiss 
 
 To fire such dogged spleens as mate with his. 170 
 
 Yet, as a man that by his art would bring 
 
 The ceaseless current of a crystal spring 
 
 To overlook the lowly flowing head, 
 
 163.— Grutch, grumb'e. 
 
 169. — Amiss, fault. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 235 
 
 Sinks by degrees his soder'd pipes of lead 
 Beneath the fount, whereby the water goes 175 
 High, as a well that on a mountain flows : 
 So when detraction and a cynic's tongue 
 Have sunk desert unto the depth of wrong, 
 By that the eye of skill true worth shall see 
 To brave the stars, though low his passage 
 be. 1 So 
 
 But here I much digress, yet pardon, swains : 
 For as a maiden gath'ring on the plains 
 A scentful nosegay to set near her pap, 
 Or as a favour for her shepherd's cap, 
 Is seen far off to stray if she have spied 185 
 A flower that might increase her posy's pride : 
 So if to wander I am sometimes press'd, 
 'Tis for a strain that might adorn the rest. 
 
 Requests, that with denial could not meet, 
 Flew to our shepherd, and the voices sweet 190 
 Of fairest nymphs entreating him to say 
 What wight he lov'd ; he thus begun his lay : 
 
 Shall I tell you whom I love ? 
 
 Hearken then awhile to me ; 
 And if such a woman move, 195 
 
 As I now shall versify ; 
 Be assur'd, 'tis she, or none 
 That I love, and love alone. 
 
 174. — Soder'd, soldered. 
 
236 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Nature did her so much right, 
 
 As she scorns the help of Art ; 200 
 
 In as many virtues dight 
 As e'er yet embrac'd a heart. 
 
 So much good so truly tried, 
 
 Some for less were deified. 
 
 Wit she hath without desire 205 
 To make known how much she hath ; 
 
 And her anger flames no higher 
 Than may fitly sweeten wrath. 
 
 Full of pity as may be, 
 
 Though perhaps not so to me. 210 
 
 Reason masters every sense, 
 
 And her virtues grace her birth : 
 
 Lovely as all excellence, 
 
 Modest in her most of mirth : 
 
 Likelihood enough to prove, 215 
 
 Only worth could kindle love. 
 
 Such she is : and if you know 
 Such a one as I have sung ; 
 Be she brown, or fair, or so, 
 
 That she be but somewhile young ; 220 
 % E „ p Be assur'd, 'tis she, or none 
 
 roeis,Aethon, That I love, and love alone. 
 
 and Phlegon, 
 were feigned 
 
 to be the^ Eous and his fellows in the team,* 
 
 ^orses 01 (Who, since their wat'ring in the Western stream, 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 237 
 
 Had run a furious journey to appease 225 
 
 The night-sick eyes of our Antipodes,) 
 
 Now sweating were in our horizon seen 
 
 To drink the cold dew from each flow'ry green : 
 
 When Triton's trumpet with a shrill command 
 
 Told silver-footed Thetis was at hand. 230 
 
 As I have seen when on the breast of Thames 
 A heavenly bevy of sweet English dames, 
 In some calm ev'ning of delightful May, 
 With music give a farewell to the day, 
 Or as they would, with an admired tone, 235 
 Greet Night's ascension to her eben throne, 
 Rapt with their melody a thousand more 
 Run to be wafted from the bounding shore : 
 So ran the shepherds, and with hasty feet [240 
 Strove which should first increase that happy fleet. 
 
 The true presagers of a coming storm,* * Dolphins. 
 
 Teaching their fins to steer them to the form 
 Of Thetis' will, like boats at anchor stood, 
 As ready to convey the Muses' brood 
 Into the brackish lake that seem'd to swell 245 
 As proud so rich a burden on it fell. 
 
 Ere their arrival Astrophel had done 
 His shepherd's lay, yet equaliz'd of none. 
 Th' admired mirror, glory of our Isle, 
 Thou far-far-more than mortal man, whose style 250 
 Struck more men dumb to hearken to thy song, 
 
 2tf.—AstroJ>/i:l, Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
238 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Than Orpheus' harp or Tully's golden tongue. 
 
 To him (as right) for wit's deep quintessence, 
 
 For honour, valour, virtue, excellence, 
 
 Be all the garlands, crown his tomb with bay, 255 
 
 Who spake as much as e'er our tongue can say. 
 
 Happy Arcadia ! while such lovely strains 
 Sung of thy valleys, rivers, hills and plains ; 
 Yet most unhappy other joys among, 
 That never heard'st his music nor his song. 260 
 Deaf men are happy so, whose virtues' praise 
 (Unheard of them) are sung in tuneful lays. 
 And pardon me, ye sisters of the mountain, 
 Who wail his loss from the Pegasian fountain, 
 If, like a man for portraiture unable, 265 
 I set my pencil to Apelles' table ; 
 Or dare to draw his curtain, with a will 
 To show his true worth, when the artist's skill 
 Within that curtain fully doth express 
 His own art's-mast'ry, my unableness. 270 
 
 He sweetly touched what I harshly hit, 
 Yet thus I glory in what I have writ ; 
 Sidney began (and if a wit 'so mean 
 May taste with him the dews of Hippocrene) 
 I sung the Past'ral next ; his Muse, my mover : 275 
 And on the plains full many a pensive lover 
 Shall sing us to their loves, and praising be 
 My humble lines the more for praising thee. 
 
 2-66.— Apelles' table, a picture of Aphrodite left unfinished 
 at the pa'nter's death. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 239 
 
 Thus we shall live with them by rocks, by springs, 
 As well as Homer by the death of kings. 280 
 
 Then in a strain beyond an oaten quill 
 The learned shepherd of fair Hitchin hill* * M - Chap- 
 
 Sung the heroic deeds of Greece and Troy, 
 In lines so worthy life, that I employ 
 My reed in vain to overtake his fame. 285 
 All praiseful tongues do wait upon that name. 
 
 Our second Ovid, the most pleasing Muse 
 That Heav'n did e'er in mortal's brain infuse, 
 All-loved Drayton, in soul-raping strains, 
 A genuine note of all the nymphish trains 290 
 Began to tune ; on it all ears were hung 
 As sometime Dido's on ^Eneas' tongue. 
 
 Jonson, whose full of merit to rehearse 
 Too copious is to be confin'd in verse ; 
 Vet therein only fittest to be known, 295 
 Could any write a line which he might own. 
 One so judicious, so well knowing, and 
 A man whose least worth is to understand ; 
 One so exact in all he doth prefer 
 To able censure ; for the theatre 300 
 Not Seneca transcends his worth of praise ; 
 Who writes him well shall well deserve the bays. 
 
 Well-languag'd Daniel : Brooke, whose polish'd 
 lines 
 
 232.- -Hitchin, in Hertfordshire, the birthplace of George 
 Chapman, the translator of Homer's poems. 
 289. — Soul-raping, soul-ravishing. 
 
240 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Are fittest to accomplish high designs, 
 
 Whose pen (it seems) still young Apollo guides ; 305 
 
 Worthy the forked hill, for ever glides 
 
 Streams from thy brain, so fair, that time shall see 
 
 Thee honour'd by thy verse, and it by thee. 
 
 And when thy temple's well-deserving bays 
 
 Might imp a pride in thee to reach thy praise, 310 
 
 As in a crystal glass, fill'd to the ring 
 
 With the clear water of as clear a spring, 
 
 A steady hand may very safely drop 
 
 Some quantity of gold, yet o'er the top 
 
 Not force the liquor run, although before 315 
 
 The glass (of water) could contain no more : 
 
 Yet so, all-worthy Brooke, though all men sound 
 
 With plummets of just praise thy skill profound, 
 
 Thou in thy verse those attributes canst take, 
 
 And not apparent ostentation make, 320 
 
 That any second can thy virtues raise, 
 
 Striving as much to hide as merit praise. 
 
 Davies and Wither, by whose Muses' power 
 A natural day to me seems but an hour, 
 And could I ever hear their learned lays, 325 
 Ages would turn to artificial days. 
 These sweetly chanted to the Queen of Waves, 
 She prais'd, and what she prais'd, no tongue depraves. 
 Then base contempt (unworthy our report) 
 Fly from the Muses and their fair resort, 330 
 
 310. — hnfi, engraft, insert. 
 
 323. — Depraves, traduces, vilifies. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 241 
 
 And exercise thy spleen on men like thee : 
 
 Such are more fit to be contemn'd than we. 
 
 'Tis not the rancour of a canker'd heart 
 
 That can debase the excellence of Art ; 
 
 Nor great in titles make our worth obey, 335 
 
 Since we have lines far more esteem'd than they. 
 
 For there is hidden in a poet's name 
 
 A spell that can command the wings of Fame, 
 
 And maugre all Oblivion's hated birth, 
 
 Begin their immortality on earth ; 340 
 
 When he that 'gainst a Muse with hate combines, 
 
 May raise his tomb in vain to reach our lines. 
 
 Thus Thetis rides along the Narrow Seas 
 Encompass'd round with lovely naiades, 
 With gaudy nymphs, and many a skilful swain, 345 
 Whose equals earth cannot produce again, 
 But leave the times and men that shall succeed them 
 Enough to praise that age which so did breed them. 
 
 Two of the quaintest swains that yet have been 
 Fail'd their attendance on the Ocean's Queen, 350 
 Remond and Doridon, whose hapless fates 
 Late sever'd them from their more happy mates. 
 For, gentle swains, if you remember well, 
 When last I sung on brim of yonder dell, 
 And as I guess it was that sunny morn, 355 
 When in the grove there by my sheep were shorn, 
 I ween I told you, while the shepherds young 
 Were at their past'ral and their rural song, 
 The shrieks of some poor maid, fallen in mischance, 
 
 vol. 1. R 
 
242 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Invok'd their aid, and drew them from their dance : 
 
 Each ran a several way to help the maid ; [360 
 
 Some tow'rds the valley, some the green wood st ray'd : 
 
 Here one the thicket beats, and there a swain 
 
 Enters the hidden caves ; but all in vain. [365 
 
 Nor could they find the wight whose shrieks and cry 
 
 Flew through the gentle air so heavily, 
 
 Nor see or man or beast, whose cruel teen 
 
 Would wrong a maiden or in grave or green. 
 
 Back then return Yl they all to end their sport 
 
 But Doridon and Remond, who resort 370 
 
 Back to those places which they erst had sought, 
 
 Nor could a thicket be by Nature wrought 
 
 In such a web, so intricate, and knit 
 
 So strong with briars, but they would enter it. 
 
 Remond his Fida calls ; Fida the woods 375 
 
 Resound again, and Fida speak the floods, 
 
 As if the rivers and the hills did frame 
 
 Themselves no small delight to hear her name. 
 
 Yet she appears not. Doridon would now 
 
 Have call'd his love too, but he knew not how : 380 
 
 Much like a man who dreaming in his sleep 
 
 That he is falling from some mountain steep 
 
 Into a soundless lake, about whose brim 
 
 A thousand crocodiles do wait for him, [385 
 
 And hangs but by one bough, and should that break 
 
 His life goes with it, yet to cry or speak, 
 
 367.— Teen, violence. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 243 
 
 Though fain he would, can move nor voice nor 
 tongue : 
 
 So when he Remond heard the woods among 
 Call for his Fida, he would gladly too 
 Have call'd his fairest love, but knew not who, 390 
 Or what to call ; poor lad, that canst not tell, 
 Nor speak the name of her thou lov'st so well. 
 
 Remond by hap near to the arbour found, 
 Where late the hind was slain, the hurtless ground 
 Besmear'd with blood ; to Doridon he cried, 395 
 And tearing then his hair, O hapless tide 
 (Quoth he), behold ! some cursed hand hath ta'en 
 From Fida this ; O what infernal bane, 
 Or more than hellish fiend enforced this ! 
 Pure as the stream of aged Simois, 400 
 And as the spotless lily was her soul ! 
 Ye sacred Powers that round about the pole 
 Turn in your spheres ! O could you see this deed, 
 And keep your motion ? If the eldest seed 
 Of chained Saturn hath so often been 405 
 In hunter's and in shepherd's habit seen 
 To trace our woods, and on our fertile plains 
 "Woo shepherds' daughters with melodious strains, 
 . Where was he now, or any other power ? 
 So many sev'ral lambs have I each hour, 410 
 And crooked horned rams brought to your shrines, 
 
 394 - Hurtless, innocent. 
 
 400.- - Simois, the river in the plain of Troy. 
 
244 BRITANNIA'S PASTORAIS. [Book 2. 
 
 And with perfumes clouded the sun that shines, 
 Yet now forsaken ? to an uncouth state 
 Must all things run, if such will be ingrate. [415 
 Cease, Remond, quoth the boy, no more complain, 
 Thy fairest Fida lives ; nor do thou stain 
 With vile reproaches any power above, 
 They all as much as thee have been in love : 
 Saturn his Rhea ; Jupiter had store, 
 As 16, Leda, Europa, and more ; 420 
 Mars enter'd Vulcan's bed, partook his joy ; 
 * Hyacinth, Phoebus had Daphne, and the sweet-fac'd boy ; * 
 Venus, Adonis ; and the God of Wit 
 In chastest bonds was to the Muses knit, 
 And yet remains so, nor can any sever 425 
 His love, but brother-like affects them ever ; 
 Pale, changeful Cynthia her Endymion had, 
 And oft on Latmus sported with that lad : 
 If these were subject (as all mortal men) 
 Unto the golden shafts, they could not then 430 
 But by their own affections rightly guess 
 Her death would draw on thine ; thy wretchedness 
 Charge them respectless ; since no swain than thee 
 Hath offer'd more unto each deity. 
 But fear not, Remond, for those sacred Powers 435 
 Tread on oblivion ; no desert of ours 
 Can be entomb'd in their celestial breasts ; 
 They weigh our off'rings and our solemn feasts, 
 And they forget thee not : Fida (thy dear) [440 
 Treads on the earth ; the blood that's sprinkled here 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 245 
 
 Ne'er fill'd her veins, the hind possess'd this gore ; 
 See where the collar lies she whilom wore. 
 Some dog hath slain her, or the griping carl 
 That spoils our plains in digging them for marl. 
 
 Look, as two little brothers who address'd 445 
 To search the hedges for a thrush's nest, 
 And have no sooner got the leavy spring, 
 When mad in lust with fearful bellowing 
 A strong-neck'd bull pursues throughout the field, 
 One climbs a tree, and takes that for his shield, 450 
 Whence looking from one pasture to another, 
 What might betide to his much-loved brother, 
 Further than can his over-drowned eyes 
 Aright perceive, the furious beast he spies 
 Toss something on his horns, he knows not what, 455 
 But one thing fears, and therefore thinks it that ; 
 When coming nigher he doth well discern 
 It of the wondrous-one-night-seeding fern 
 Some bundle was : yet thence he homeward goes 
 Pensive and sad, nor can abridge the throes 460 
 His fear began, but still his mind doth move 
 Unto the worst : mistrust goes still with love. 
 So far'd it with our shepherd : though he saw 
 Not aught of Fida's raiment, which might draw 
 A more suspicion ; though the collar lay 465 
 There on the grass, yet goes he thence away 
 Full of mistrust, and vows to leave that plain, 
 
 444«— Marl. See Note. 
 
 447 — Springy wood. 
 
246 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Till he embrace his chastest love again. 
 
 Love-wounded Doridon entreats him then 
 
 That he might be his partner, since no men 470 
 
 Had cases liker ; he with him would go, 
 
 Weep when he wept, and sigh when he did so. 
 
 I, quoth the boy, will sing thee songs of love, 
 
 And as we sit in some all-shady grove, 
 
 Where Philomela and such sweeten'd throats 475 
 
 Are for the mast'ry tuning various notes, 
 
 I'll strive with them, and tune so sad a verse, 
 
 That whilst to thee my fortunes I rehearse, 
 
 No bird but shall be mute, her note decline, 
 
 And cease her woe, to lend an ear to mine. 480 
 
 I'll tell thee tales of love, and show thee how 
 
 The gods have wander'd as we shepherds now. 
 
 And when thou plain'st thy Fida's loss, will I 
 
 Echo the same, and with mine own supply. 
 
 Know, Remond, I do love, but, well-a-day ! 485 
 
 I know not whom ; but as the gladsome May 
 
 She's fair and lovely, as a goddess she 
 
 (If such as her's a goddess' beauty be) 
 
 First stood before me, and inquiring was 
 
 How to the marish she might soonest pass, 490 
 
 When rush'd a villain in, hell be his lot, 
 
 And drew her thence, since when I saw her not, 
 
 Nor know I where to search ; but if thou please 
 
 'Tis not a forest, mountain, rocks, or seas 
 
 490. — Marish, marsh. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 247 
 
 Can in thy journey stop my going on. 495 
 Fate so may smile on hapless Doridon, 
 That he rebless'd may be with her fair sight, 
 Though thence his eyes possess eternal night. 
 
 Remond agreed, and many weary days 
 They now had spent in unfrequented ways : 500 
 About the rivers, valleys, holts and crags, 
 Among the osiers and the waving flags 
 They nearly pry, if any dens there be, 
 Where from the sun might harbour cruelty : 
 Or if they could the bones of any spy, 505 
 Or torn by beasts, or human tyranny. 
 They close inquiry make in caverns blind, 
 Vet what they look for would be death to find. 
 Right as a curious man that would descry, 
 Led by the trembling hand of Jealousy, 510 
 If his fair wife have wrong'd his bed or no, 
 Meeteth his torment if he find her so. 
 
 One ev'n, ere Phoebus near the golden shore 
 Of Tagus' stream his journey 'gan give o'er, 
 They had ascended up a woody hill, 515 
 Where oft the fauni with their bugles shrill 
 Waken'd the echo, and with many a shout 
 Follow'd the fearful deer the woods about, 
 Or through the brakes that hide the craggy rocks 
 Digg'd to the hole where lies the wily fox ; 520 
 Thence they beheld an underlying vale, 
 
 501. —Holts, woody hills. 
 
 503. — Nearly , closely. 
 
248 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Where Flora set her rarest flowers at sale, 
 Whither the thriving bee came oft to suck them, 
 And fairest nymphs to deck their hair did pluck 
 them ; 
 
 Where oft the goddesses did run at base, 5 2 5 
 
 And on white harts began the wild-goose-chase : 
 
 Here various Nature seem'd adorning this, 
 
 In imitation of the fields of bliss ; 
 
 Or as she would entice the souls of men 
 
 To leave Elysium, and live here again. 53° 
 
 Not Hybla mountain in the jocund prime 
 
 Upon her many bushes of sweet thyme 
 
 Shows greater number of industrious bees, 
 
 Than were the birds that sung there on the trees. 
 
 Like the trim windings of a wanton lake, 535 
 
 That doth his passage through a meadow make, 
 
 Ran the delightful valley 'tween two hills : 
 
 From whose rare trees the precious balm distils, 
 
 And hence Apollo had his simples good 
 
 That cur'd the gods hurt by the Earth's ill brood. 540 
 
 A crystal river on her bosom slid, 
 
 And passing seem'd in sullen mutt'rings chid 
 
 The artless songsters, that their music still 
 
 Should charm the sweet dale and the wistful hill : 
 
 Not suffering her shrill waters, as they run 544 
 
 525. — 2?7.r?, the game of prisoner' s-bars. 
 
 526. — Wild-goose-chase, a game. 
 531.— Prime, spring. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 249 
 
 Tun'd with a whistling gale in unison 
 
 To tell as high they priz'd the broider'd vale 
 
 As the quick linnet or sweet nightingale. 
 
 Down from a steep rock came the water first, 
 
 (Where lusty satyrs often quench'd their thirst) 55° 
 
 And with no little speed seem'd all in haste, 
 
 Till it the lovely bottom had embrac'd : 
 
 Then as entranc'd to hear the sweet birds sing, 
 
 In curled whirlpools she her course doth bring, 
 
 As loath to leave the songs that lull'd the dale, 55$ 
 
 Or waiting time, when she and some soft gale 
 
 Should speak what true delight they did possess 
 
 Among the rare flowers which the valley dress. 
 
 But since those quaint musicians would not stay, 
 
 Nor suffer any to be heard but they : 560 
 
 Much like a little lad who gotten new 
 
 To play his part amongst a skilful crew 
 
 Of choice musicians on some softer string 
 
 That is not heard, the others' fingering 
 
 Drowning his art, the boy would gladly get 56$ 
 
 Applause with others that are of his set, 
 
 And therefore strikes a stroke loud as the best, 
 
 And often descants when his fellows rest ; 
 
 That to be heard (as usual singers do) 
 
 Spoils his own music and his partners' too : 570 
 
 So at the further end the waters fell 
 
 From off an high bank down a lowly dell, 
 
 As they had vow'd, ere passing from that ground, 
 
 The birds should be enforc'd to hear their sound. 
 
250 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2' 
 
 No small delight the shepherds took to see 575 
 
 * Valley. A coombe so dight in Flora's livery,* 
 
 * According Where fair Feronia* honour'd in the woods, 
 Husjib?^!" And a11 the deiti es that haunt the floods, 
 Pumcor. ^ With powerful Nature strove to frame a plot, 
 
 gros, Dives Whose like the sweet Arcadia yielded not. 580 
 nes colitur 11 " ^ own through the arched wood the shepherds wend, 
 Feronia luco. And seek all places that might help their end, 
 When, coming near the bottom of the hill, 
 A deep-fetch'd sigh (which seem'd of power to kill 
 The breast that held it) pierc'd the list'ning wood ; 585 
 Whereat the careful swains no longer stood 
 Where they were looking on a tree, whose rind 
 A love-knot held, which two join'd hearts entwined ; 
 But searching round, upon an aged root [590 
 Thick lin'd with moss which (though to little boot) 
 Seem'd as a shelter it had lending been 
 Against cold winter's storms and wreakful teen : 
 Or clad the stock in summer with that hue 
 His wither d branches not a long time knew : 
 For in his hollow trunk and perish'd grain 595 
 The cuckow now had many a winter lain, 
 And thriving pismires laid their eggs in store : 
 The dormouse slept there, and a many more — 
 Here sat the lad, of whom I think of old 
 Virgil's prophetic spirit had foretold, 600 
 Who whilst Dame Nature for her cunning's sake 
 
 5Q2.~Teeu, violence. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 A male or female doubled which to make, 
 
 And to adorn him more than all assay 'd, 
 
 This pretty youth was almost made a maid. 
 
 Sadly he sat, and (as would Grief) alone, 605 
 
 As if the boy and tree had been but one, 
 
 Whilst down near boughs did drops of amber creep, 
 
 As if his sorrow made the trees to weep. 
 
 If ever this were true in Ovid's verse 
 
 That tears have power an adamant to pierce, 610 
 
 Or move things void of sense, 'twas here approv'd : 
 
 Things, vegetative once, his tears have mov'd. 
 
 Surely the stones might well be drawn in pity 
 
 To burst that he should moan, as for a ditty 
 
 To come and range themselves in order all, 615 
 
 And of their own accord raise Thebes a wall. 
 
 Or else his tears (as did the other's song) 
 
 Might have th' attractive power to move the throng 
 
 Of all the forest's citizens and woods, 
 
 With ev'ry denizen of air and floods, 620 
 
 To sit by him and grieve : to leave their jars, 
 
 Their strifes, dissensions, and all civil wars ; 
 
 And though else disagreeing, in this one 
 
 Mourning for him should make an union. 
 
 For whom the heavens would wear a sable suit, 625 
 
 If men, beasts, fishes, birds, trees, stones were mute. 
 
 His eyes were fixed (rather fixed stars) 
 
 With whom it seem'd his tears had been in wars, 
 
 611.— A/prov'd, proved. 
 
252 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 The difference this (a hard thing to descry) 
 Whether the drops were clearest, or his eye. 630 
 Tears fearing conquest to the eye might fall, 
 An inundation brought and drowned all. 
 Yet like true Virtue from the top of state, 
 Whose hopes vile Envy hath seen ruinate, 
 Being lowly cast, her goodness doth appear 635 
 (Uncloth'd of greatness) more apparent clear : 
 So though dejected, yet remain'd a feature, 
 Made sorrow sweet plac'd in so sweet a creature. 
 " The test of misery the truest is, 
 In that none hath but what is surely his." 640 
 His arms across, his sheep-hook lay beside him : 
 Had Venus pass'd this way, and chanc'd t' have spied 
 him, 
 
 With open breast, locks on his shoulders spread, 
 
 She would have sworn (had she not seen him dead) 
 
 It was Adonis ; or if e'er there was 645 
 
 Held transmigration by Pythagoras 
 
 Of souls, that certain then her lost love's spirit 
 
 A fairer body never could inherit. 
 
 His pipe, which often wont upon the plain 
 
 To sound the Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian strain, 650 
 
 Lay from his hook and bag clean cast apart, 
 
 And almost broken like his master's heart. 
 
 Yet till the two kind shepherds near him stepp'd, 
 
 I find he nothing spake but that he wept. 
 
 Cease, gentle lad (quoth Remond), let no tear 655 
 Cloud those sweet beauties in thy face appear ; 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 253 
 
 Why dost thou call on that which comes alone, 
 And will not leave thee till thyself art gone ? 
 Thou may'st have grief, when other things are reft 
 thee : 
 
 All else may slide away, this still is left thee ; 660 
 And when thou wantest other company, 
 Sorrow will ever be embracing thee. 
 But, fairest swain, what cause hast thou of woe ? 
 Thou hast a well-fleec'd flock feed to and fro 
 (His sheep along the valley that time fed 665 
 Not far from him, althougbfun followed). 
 What, do thy ewes abortives bring ? or lambs 
 For want of milk seek to their fellows' dams ? 
 No griping landlord hath enclos'd thy walks, 
 Nor toiling ploughman furrow'd them in balks. 670 
 Ver hath adorn'd thy pastures all in green 
 With clover-grass as fresh as may be seen : 
 Clear-gliding springs refresh thy meadows' heat, 
 Meads promise to thy charge their winter-meat, 
 And yet thou griev'st ! O ! had some swains thy 
 store, 675 
 Their pipes should tell the woods they ask'd no more. 
 Or have the Parcae with impartial knife 
 Left some friend's body tenantless of life, 
 And thou bemoan'st that Fate in his youth's morn 
 O'ercast with clouds his light but newly born ? 680 
 
 670.— Balks, the ridge left by the plough between two 
 furrows. 
 
 677. — Unf>artta! } unkindly. 
 
254 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 " Count not how many years he is bereav'd, 
 But those which he possess'd and had leceiv'd ; 
 If I may tread no longer on this stage, 
 Though others think me young ; it is mine age : 
 For whoso hath his fate's full period told, 685 
 He full of years departs, and dieth old." 
 May be that avarice thy mind hath cross'd, 
 And so thy sighs are for some trifle lost. 
 Why shouldst thou hold that dear the world throws 
 on thee ? [690 
 11 Think nothing good which may be taken from thee." 
 Look as some pond'rous weight or massy pack, 
 Laid to be carried on a porter's back, 
 Doth make his strong joints crack, and forceth him 
 (Mangre the help of every nerve and limb) 
 To straggle in his gait, and goeth double, 695 
 Bending to earth, such is his burden's trouble : 
 So any one by avarice engirt, 
 
 And press'd with wealth, lies grovelling in the dirt. 
 His wretched mind bends to no point but this, 
 That who hath most of wealth hath most of bliss. 700 
 Hence comes the world to seek such traffic forth 
 And passages through the congealed North, 
 Who when their hairs with icicles are hung, 
 And that their chatt'ring teeth confound their tongue, 
 Show them a glitt'ring stone, will straightways 
 say, 7°5 
 If pains thus prosper, oh, what fools would play ? 
 Yet I could tell them (as I now do thee) 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 255 
 
 " In getting wealth we lose our liberty. 
 
 Besides, it robs us of our better powers, 
 
 And we should be ourselves, were these not ours. 710 
 
 He is not poorest that hath least in store, 
 
 But he which hath enough, yet asketh more : 
 
 Nor is he rich by whom are all possess'd, 
 
 But he which nothing hath, yet asketh least. 
 
 If thou a life by Nature's leading pitch, 715 
 
 Thou never shalt be poor, nor ever rich 
 
 Led by Opinion ; for their states are such, 
 
 Nature but little seeks, Opinion^ much." 
 
 Amongst the many buds proclaiming May, 
 
 (Decking the fields in holy-day's array, 720 
 
 Striving who shall surpass in bravery) 
 
 Mark the fair blooming of the hawthorn-tree, 
 
 Who, finely clothed in a robe of white, 
 
 Feeds full the wanton eye with May's delight j 
 
 Vet for the bravery that she is in 725 
 
 Doth neither handle card nor wheel to spin, 
 
 Nor changeth robes but twice : is never seen 
 
 In o'her colours than in white or green. 
 
 Learn then content, young shepherd, from this tree, 
 
 Whose greatest wealth is Nature's livery ; 730 
 
 And richest ingots never toil to find, 
 
 Nor care for poverty but of the mind. 
 
 This spoke young Remond : yet the mournful lad 
 
 726. — Doth neither Jiardle card, etc., Luke, c. xii. v. 27 ; 
 Spenser's Faery Queen, b. 2 c. 6, St. 16, 1. 8. 
 7)2. — A \ot care for poverty, etc., Matt. c. 5, vv. 3, 6. 
 
256 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Not once replied ; but with a smile, though sad, 
 He shook his head, then cross'd his arms again, 735 
 And from his eyes did showers of salt tears rain ; 
 Which wrought so on the swains, they could not 
 smother 
 
 Their sighs, but spent them freely as the other. 
 Tell us (quoth Doridon), thou fairer far 
 * Hippoly- Than he whose chastity made him a star,* 74° 
 tus. More fit to throw the wounding shafts of Love 
 
 Than follow sheep, and pine here in a grove. 
 O do not hide thy sorrows, show them brief ; 
 " He oft finds aid that doth disclose his grief." 
 If thou wouldst it continue, thou dost wrong ; 745 
 " No man can sorrow very much and long : " 
 For thus much loving Nature hath dispos'd, 
 That 'mongst the woes that have us round enclos'd, 
 This comfort's left (and we should bless her for't) 
 That we may make our griefs be born, or short. 750 
 Believe me, shepherd, we are men no less 
 Free from the killing throes of heaviness 
 Than thou art here, and but this diffrencc sure, 
 That use hath made us apter to endure. 
 More he had spoke, but that a bugle shrill 755 
 Rung through the valley from the higher hill, 
 And as they turn'd them tow'rds the heart'ning sound, 
 A gallant stag, as if he scorn'd the ground, 
 Came running with the wind, and bore his head 
 As he had been the king of forests bred. 760 
 Not swifter comes the messenger of heaven, 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 257 
 
 Or winged vessel with a full gale driven, 
 
 Nor the swift swallow flying near the ground, 
 
 By which the air's distemp'rature is found : 
 
 Nor Myrrha's course, nor Daphne's speedy flight, 765 
 
 Shunning the dalliance of the God of light, 
 
 Than seem'd the stag, that had no sooner cross'd them, 
 
 But in a trice their eyes as quickly lost him. 
 
 The weeping swain ne'er mov'd, but as his eyes 
 Were only given to show his miseries, 770 
 Attended those ; and could not once be won 
 To leave that object whence his tedrs begun. 
 
 O had that man,* who (by a tyrant's hand) 
 wSeeing his children's bodies strew the sand, 
 And he next morn for torments press'd to go, 775 
 Yet from his eyes let no one small tear flow, 
 But being ask'd how well he bore their loss, 
 Like to a man affliction could not cross, 
 He stoutly answer'd : Happier sure are they 
 Than I shall be by space of one short day : 780 
 No more his grief was ; but had he been here, 
 He had been flint, had he not spent a tear. 
 For still that man the pcrfecter is known, 
 Who others' sorrows feels more than his own. 
 
 Remond and Doridon were turning then 785 
 Unto the most disconsolate of men, 
 But that a gallant dame, fair as the morn 
 Or lovely blooms the peach-tree that adorn, 
 Clad in a changing silk, whose lustre shone 
 Like yellow flowers and grass far off in one, 790 
 
 VOL. I. S 
 
25S BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Or like the mixture Nature doth display 
 Upon the quaint wings of the popinjay : 
 Her horn about her neck with silver tip, 
 Too hard a metal for so soft a lip, 
 Which it no oft'ner kiss'd than Jove did frown, 795 
 And in a mortal's shape would fain come down 
 To feed upon those dainties, had not he 
 Been still kept back by Juno's jealousy. 
 An ivory dart she held of good command, 
 White was the bone, but whiter was her hand ; 800 
 Of many pieces was it neatly fram'd, 
 But more the hearts were that her eyes inflam'd. 
 Upon her head a green light silken cap : 
 A piece of white lawn shadow'd either pap, 
 Between which hillocks many Cupids lay, 805 
 Where with her neck or with her teats they play, 
 Whilst her quick heart will not with them dispense, 
 But heaves her breasts as it would beat them thence : 
 W T ho, fearing much to lose so sweet repair, 
 Take faster hold by her dishevell'd hair. 810 
 Swiftly she ran ; the sweet briars to receive her 
 Slipp'd their embracements, and (as loath to leave her) 
 Stretch'd themselves to their length ; yet on she 
 goes. 
 
 So great Diana frays a herd of roes 
 And speedy follows : Arethusa fled 815 
 Alpheus. So from the river* that her lavished. 
 
 792.—- Popinjay, parrot. 
 
 814. — Frays, affrights. 
 
Song 2.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 259 
 
 When this brave huntress near the shepherds drew 
 Her lily arm in full extent she threw 
 To pluck a little bough to fan her face 
 From off a thick-leav'd ash (no tree did grace 820 
 The low grove as did this, the branches spread 
 Like Neptune's trident upwards from the head). 
 No sooner did the grieved shepherd see 
 The nymph's white hand extended tow'rds the tree, 
 But rose and to her ran, yet she had done 825 
 Ere he came near, and to the wood was gone ; 
 Yet now approach'd the bough the fmntress tore, 
 He suck'd it with his mouth, and kiss'd it o'er 
 A hundred times, and softly 'gan it bind 
 With dock-leaves and a slip of willow rind. 830 
 Then round the trunk he wreathes lis weaken'd arms, 
 And with his scalding tears the smooth bark warms, 
 Sighing and groaning, that the shepherds by 
 Forgot to help him, and lay down to cry : 
 "For 'tis impossible a man should be 835 
 Griev'd to himself, or fail of company. " 
 Much the two swains admir'd, but pitied more 
 That he no power of words had to deplore 
 Or show what sad misfortune 'twas befell 
 To him, whom Nature (seem'd) regarded well. 840 
 
 As thus they lay, and while the speechless swain 
 His tears and sighs spent to the woods in vain, 
 One like a wild man overgrown with hair, 
 
 837. — Admird, wondered. 
 
 S 2 
 
26o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 His nails long grown, and all his body bare, 
 Save that a wreath of ivy twist did hide 845 
 Those parts which Nature would not have descried, 
 And the long hair that curled from his head 
 
 A grassy garland rudely covered 
 
 But, shepherds, I have wrong'd you ; 'tis now late< 
 For see our maid stands hollowing on yond gate. 850 
 'Tis supper-time withal, and we had need 
 Make haste away unless we mean to speed 
 With those that kiss the hare's foot : rheums are bred, 
 Some say, by going supperless to bed, 
 And those Hove not ; therefore cease my rhyme, 855 
 And put my pipes up till another time. 
 
 853. — Kiss the hares foot, a proverbial expression signifying 
 to be too late for anything. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 261 
 
 THE THIRD SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 A redbreast doth from pining 'ave 
 Marina shut in Famine's Cave. 
 The golden age described plain, 
 And Limos by the shepherds slain, 
 Do give me leave awhile to move 
 My pipe of Tavy and his love. 
 
 Alas that I have done so great a wrong 
 
 Unto the fairest maiden of my song, 
 
 I )ivine Marina, who in Limos' cave 
 
 Lies ever fearful of a living grave, 
 
 And night and day upon the harden'd stones 5 
 
 Rests, if a rest can be amongst the moans 
 
 Of dying wretches ; where each minute all 
 
 Stand still afraid to hear the death's-man call. 
 
 Thrice had the golden sun his hot steeds wash'd 
 In the west main, and thrice them smartly lash'd 10 
 Out of the balmy east, since the sweet maid 
 Had in that dismal cave been sadly laid. 
 Where hunger pinch'd her so, she need not stand 
 
262 BRITANNIA S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 In fear of murd'ring by a second hand : 
 For through her tender sides such darts might pass 15 
 'Gainst which strong walls of stone, thick gates of 
 brass, 
 
 Deny no entrance, nor the camps of kings, 
 Since soonest there they bend their flaggy wings. 
 
 But Heaven that stands still for the best's avail, 
 Lendeth his hand when human helpings fail ; 20 
 For 'twere impossible that such as she 
 Should be forgotten of the Deity ; 
 Since in the spacious orb could no man find 
 A fairer face match'd with a fairer mind. 
 
 A little robin-redbreast, one clear morn, 25 
 Sat sweetly singing on a well-leav'd thorn : 
 Whereat Marina rose, and did admire 
 He durst approach from whence all else retire : 
 And pitying the sweet bird what in her lay, 
 She fully strove to fright him thence away. 30 
 Poor harmless wretch, quoth she, go, seek some 
 spring, 
 
 And to her sweet fall with thy fellows sing ; 
 
 Fly to the well-replenish'd groves, and there 
 
 Do entertain each swain's harmonious ear ; 
 
 Traverse the winding branches ; chant so free, 35 
 
 That every lover fall in love with thee ; 
 
 And if thou chance to see that lovely boy 
 
 (To look on whom the sylvans count a joy) : 
 
 27. — Admire, wonder. 
 
Song 3-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 263 
 
 He whom I lov'd no sooner than I lost, 
 
 Whose body all the Graces hath engross'd, 40 
 
 To him unfold (if that thou dar'st to be 
 
 So near a neighbour to my tragedy) 
 
 As far as can thy voice (in plaints so sad, 
 
 And in so many mournful accents clad, 
 
 That as thou sing'st upon a tree there by 45 
 
 He may some small time weep, yet know not why), 
 
 How I in death was his, though Powers divine 
 
 Will not permit that he in life be mine. 
 
 Do this, thou loving bird ; and haste away 
 
 Into the woods : but if so be thou stay 50 
 
 To do a deed of charity on me, 
 
 When my pure soul shall leave mortality, 
 
 By cov'ring this poor body with a sheet 
 
 Of green leaves, gather'd from a valley sweet ; 
 
 It is in vain : these harmless limbs must have 55 
 
 Than in the caitiff's womb no other grave. 
 
 Hence then, sweet robin ; lest in staying long 
 
 At once thou chance forego both life and song. 
 
 With this she hush'd him thence ; he sung no more, 
 
 But ffraid the second time) flew tow'rds the shore. 60 
 
 Within as short time as the swiftest swain 
 Can to our May-pole run and come again, 
 The little redbreast to the prickled thorn 
 Return'd, and sung there as he had beforn : 
 And fair Marina to the loophole went, 65 
 Pitying the pretty bird, whose punishment 
 Limos would not defer if he were spied. 
 
264 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2, 
 
 No sooner had the bird the maiden eyed, 
 But leaping on the rock, down from a bough, 
 He takes a cherry up (which he but now 70 
 Had thither brought, and in that place had laid 
 Till to the cleft his song had drawn the maid), 
 And flying with the small stem in his bill, 
 * Cithaeron (A choicer fruit than hangs on Bacchus' hill,)* 
 in Bceotia, In fair Carina's bosom took his rest, 75 
 A heavenly seat fit for so sweet a guest : 
 Where Cytherea's doves might billing sit, 
 And gods and men with envy look on it ; 
 Where rose two mountains, whose rare sweets to crop 
 Was harder than to reach Olympus' top : 80 
 For those the gods can ; but to climb these hills 
 Their powers no other were than mortal wills. 
 Here left the bird the cherry, and anon 
 Forsook her bosom, and for more is gone, 
 Making such speedy flights into the thick, 85 
 That she admir'd he went and came so quick. 
 Then lest his many cherries should distaste, 
 Some other fruit he brings than he brought last. 
 Sometime of strawberries a little stem, 
 Oft changing colours as he gather'd them : 90 
 Some green, some white, some red on them infus'd, 
 These lov'd, those fear'd, they blush'd to be so us'd* 
 The peascod green oft with no little toil 
 He'd seek for in the fattest, fertil'st soil, 
 
 85.— Thick, thicket. 86.— Admird t wondered, 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 265 
 
 And rend it from the stalk to bring it to her, 95 
 And in her bosom for acceptance woo her. 
 No berry in the grove or forest grew, 
 That fit for nourishment the kind bird knew, 
 Nor any powerful herb in open field 
 To serve her brood the teeming earth did yield, 100 
 But with his utmost industry he sought it, 
 And to the cave for chaste Marina brought it. 
 So from one well-stor'd garden to another, 
 To gather simples runs a careful mother, 
 Whose only child lies on the shaking bed 
 Grip'd with a fever (sometime honoured 
 In Rome as if a god*), nor is she bent 
 To other herbs than those for which she went. 
 
 The feather'd hours five times were overtold, 
 And twice as many floods and ebbs had roll'd 
 The small sands out and in, since fair Marine 
 (For whose long loss a hundred shepherds pine) 
 Was by the charitable robin fed : 
 For whom (had she not so been nourished) 
 A hundred doves would search the sunburnt hills, 115 
 Or fruitful valleys lac'd with silver rills, 
 To bring her olives. Th' eagle strong of sight 
 To countries far remote would bend her flight, 
 And with unwearied wing strip through the sky 
 To the choice plots of Gaul and Italy, 120 
 And never lin till homeward she escape 
 
 105 
 
 * Febrem ad 
 minus nocea- 
 dum tempi is 
 colebant. ait 
 Val. Maxi- 
 [ IO i n us. Vide 
 Tullium in 
 tertiode Nat. 
 Deorum, et 
 secundo de 
 Legibus. 
 
 ng.—Si/ ip, fly rapidly. 
 
 121. — Lin, cease. 
 
266 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 With the pomegranate, lemon, orange, grape, 
 Or the lov'd citron, and attain'd the cave. 
 The well-plum'd goshawk (by th' Egyptians grave 
 Us'd in their mystic characters for speed) 125 
 Would not be wanting at so great a need, 
 But from the well-stor'd orchards of the land 
 Brought the sweet pear, once by a cursed hand 
 * One writes At Swinsted* us'd with poison for the fall 
 
 was pris£2d 0f one who on these P lams rul ' d lord of all. 130 
 
 at Swinsted, The scentful osprey by the rock had fish'd, 
 with a dish , . , . . „ , , , 
 
 of pears : And many a pretty shrimp m scallops dish d, 
 
 cup^f*' ^ ome wa y conv ey'd her ; no one of the shoal 
 wine : some That haunt the waves, but from his lurking hole 
 at Newark Had pull'd the crayfish, and with much ado 135 
 A fourth by ^ rou &kt ^ at ^ e ma ^> and periwinkles too. 
 the distem- But these for others might their labours spare, 
 
 peache^eaten And not with r ° bin for their merits share - 
 
 in his fit of an Yet as a herdess in a summer's day, 
 
 so many m0nS Heat with the glorious sun's all-purging ray, 140 
 
 doubts, I i n t h e ca i m evening, leaving her fair flock, 
 
 leave you to ° ° ' 
 
 believe the Betakes herself unto a froth-girt rock, 
 to^i^th 0n which the headlong Tavy throws his waves, 
 our best of And foams to see the stones neglect his braves : 
 antiquaries. ^y^ere s j tt j n g to un( ] 0 her buskins white, 145 
 And wash her neat legs, as her use each night, 
 Th' enamour'd flood, before she can unlace them, 
 Rolls up his waves as hast'ning to embrace them, 
 
 144. — Braves, boasts, vauntings. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 267 
 
 And though to help them some small gale do blow, 
 
 And one of twenty can but reach her so ; 150 
 
 Yet will a many little surges be 
 
 Flashing upon the rock full busily, 
 
 And do the best they can to kiss her feet, 
 
 But that their power and will not equal meet : 
 
 So as she for her nurse look'd tow'rds the land, 155 
 
 And now beholds the trees that grace the strand, 
 
 Then looks upon a hill whose sliding sides 
 
 A goodly flock like winter's cov'ring hides, 
 
 And higher on some stone that jutteth out, 
 
 Their careful master guiding his trim rout 160 
 
 By sending forth his dog as shepherds do, 
 
 Or piping sat, or clouting of his shoe ; 
 
 Whence, nearer hand drawing her wand'ring sight, 
 
 So from the earth steals the all-quick'ning light, 
 
 Beneath the rock, the waters high, but late, 165 
 
 (I know not by what sluice or empting gate) 
 
 Were at a low ebb ; on the sand she spies 
 
 A busy bird that to and fro still flies, 
 
 Till pitching where a heatful oyster lay, 
 
 Opening his close jaws, closer none than they 170 
 
 Unless the griping fist, or cherry lips 
 
 Of happy lovers in their melting sips, 
 
 Since the decreasing waves haH left him there 
 
 Gaping for thirst, yet meets with nought but air, 
 
 And that so hot, ere the returning tide, 17$ 
 
 162. — Clouting, patching. 
 
268 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 He in his shell is likely to be fried ; 
 
 The wary bird a pretty pebble takes 
 
 And claps it 'twixt the two pearl -hiding flakes 
 
 Of the broad -yawning oyster, and she then 
 
 Securely picks the fish out (as some men 180 
 
 A trick of policy thrust 'tween two friends, 
 
 Sever their powers), and his intention ends. 
 
 The bird thus getting that for which she strove, 
 
 Brought it to her : to whom the Queen of Love 
 
 Serv'd as a foil, and Cupid could no other, 185 
 
 But fly to her mistaken for his mother. 
 
 Marina from the kind bird took the meat, 
 
 And (looking down) she saw a number great 
 
 Of birds, each one a pebble in his bill, 
 
 Would do the like, but that they wanted skill : 190 
 
 Some threw it in too far, and some too short ; 
 
 This could not bear a stone fit for such sport, 
 
 But, harmless wretch, putting in one too small, 
 
 The oyster shuts and takes his head withal. 
 
 Another bringing one too smooth and round, 195 
 
 (Unhappy bird that thine own death hast found) 
 
 Lays it so little way in his hard lips, 
 
 That with their sudden close, the pebble slips 
 
 So strongly forth (as when your little ones 
 
 Do 'twixt their fingers slip their cherry-stones), 200 
 
 That it in passage meets the breast or head 
 
 Of the poor wretch, and lays him there for dead. 
 
 A many striv'd, and gladly would have done 
 
 As much or more than he which first begun, 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 269 
 
 But all in vain : scarce one of twenty could 205 
 
 Perform the deed, which they full gladly would. 
 
 For this not quick is to that act he go'th, 
 
 That wanteth skill, this cunning, and some both : 
 
 Yet none a will, for from the cave she sees 
 
 Not in all-lovely May th' industrious bees 210 
 
 More busy with the flowers could be, than these 
 
 Among the shell-fish of the working seas. 
 
 Limos had all this while been wanting thence, 
 And but just Heav'n preserv'd pure innocence 
 By the two birds, her life to air had flit, 215 
 Ere the curst caitiff should have forced it. 
 
 The first night that he left her in his den, 
 He got to shore, and near th' abodes of men 
 That live as we by tending of their flocks, 
 To interchange for Ceres' golden locks, 220 
 Or with the neatherd for his milk and cream, 
 Things we respect more than the diadem 
 His choice made-dishes. O ! the golden age 
 Met all contentment in no surplusage 
 Of dainty viands, but, as we do still, 225 
 Drank the pure water of the crystal rill, 
 Fed on no other meats than those they fed, 
 Labour the salad that their stomachs bred. 
 Nor sought they for the down of silver swans, 
 Nor those sow-thistle locks each small gale fans, 230 
 But hides of beasts, which when they liv'd they kept, 
 
 222. — Diadem, monarch. 
 224. — Surplusage ; excess. 
 
270 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Serv'd them for bed and cov'ring when they slept. 
 
 If any softer lay, 'twas (by the loss 
 
 Of some rock's warmth) on thick and spongy moss, 
 
 Or on the ground : some simple wall of clay 235 
 
 Parting their beds from where their cattle lay. 
 
 And on such pallets one man clipped then 
 
 More golden slumbers than this age again. 
 
 That time physicians thriv'd not : or, if any, 
 
 I dare say all : yet then were thrice as many 240 
 
 As now profess't, and more ; for every man 
 
 Was his own patient and physician. 
 
 None had a body then so weak and thin, 
 
 Bankrupt of nature's store, to feed the sin 
 
 Of an insatiate female, in whose womb 245 
 
 Could nature all hers past, and all to come 
 
 Infuse, with virtue of all drugs beside, 
 
 She might be tir'd, but never satisfied. 
 
 To please which ork her husband's weaken'd piece 
 
 Must have his cullis mix'd with ambergris ; 250 
 
 Pheasant and partridge into jelly turn'd, 
 
 Grated with gold, seven times refin'd and burn'd 
 
 With dust of Orient pear], richer the East 
 
 Yet ne'er beheld : (O Epicurean feast !) 
 
 This is his breakfast ; and his meal at night 255 
 
 Possets no less provoking appetite, 
 
 237. — Clipped, embraced. 
 
 24 >— Ork, a sea-mcn 3 ter : here employed to signify a pro- 
 digy of lust. 
 
 250. - Cullis, broth. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 271 
 
 Whose dear ingredients valu'd are at more 
 
 Than all his ancestors were worth before. 
 
 When such as we by poor and simple fare 
 
 More able liv'd, and died not without heir, 260 
 
 Sprung from our own loins, and a spotless bed 
 
 Of any other power unseconded : 
 
 When th' other's issue, like a man fall'n sick, 
 
 Or through the fever, gout, or lunatic, 
 
 Changing his doctors oft, each as his notion 265 
 
 Prescribes a sev'ral diet, sev'ral potion, 
 
 Meeting his friend (who meet we nowadays 
 
 That hath not some receipt for each disease ? ) 
 
 lie tells him of a plaister, which he takes ; 
 
 And finding after that, his torment slakes, 270 
 
 (Whether because the humour is out-wrought, 
 
 Oi by the skill which his physician brought, 
 
 It makes no matter : ) for he surely thinks 
 
 None of their purges nor their diet drinks 
 
 Have made him sound ; but his belief is fast 275 
 
 That med'cine was his health which he took last : 
 
 So by a mother being taught to call 
 
 One for his father, though a son to all, 
 
 1 1 is mother's often 'scapes, though truly known, 
 
 Cannot divert him ; but will ever own 280 
 
 For his begetter him, whose name and rents 
 
 He must inherit. Such are the descents 
 
 Of these men ; to make up whcse limber heir 
 
 283. — Lin ber, flabby. 
 
272 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book r 
 
 As many as in him must have a share ; 
 
 When he that keeps the last yet least ado, 285 
 
 Father the people's child, and gladly too. 
 
 Happier those times were when the flaxen clew 
 By fair Arachne's hand the Lydians knew, 
 And -sought not to the worm for silken threads, 
 To roll their bodies in, or dress their heads. 290 
 When wise Minerva did th' Athenians learn 
 To draw their milk-white fleeces into yarn ; 
 And knowing not the mixtures which began 
 (Of colours) from the Babylonian, 
 Nor wool in Sardis dyed, more various known 295 
 By hues, than Iris to the world hath shown : 
 The bowels of our mother were not ripp'd 
 For madder-pits, nor the sweet meadows stripp'd 
 Of their choice beauties, nor for Ceres' load 
 The fertile lands burden'd with needless woad. 300 
 Through the wide seas no winged pine did go 
 To lands unknown for staining indico ; 
 Nor men in scorching climates moor'd their keel 
 To traffic for the costly cochineal. 
 Unknown was then the Phrygian broidery, 305 
 The Tyrian purple, and the scarlet dye, 
 Such as their sheep clad, such they wove and wore, 
 Russet or white, or those mix'd, and no more : 
 Except sometimes (to bravery inclin'd) 
 They dyed them yellow caps with alder rind. 310 
 
 287. — Clew, thread. 
 
 2,01,-1 ndico, indigo. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 273 
 
 The Grecian mantle, Tuscan robes of state, 
 Tissue, nor cloth of gold of highest rate, 
 They never saw ; only in pleasant woods, 
 Or by th' embroidered margin of the floods, 
 The dainty nymphs they often did behold 315 
 Clad in their light silk robes, stitch'd oft with gold. 
 The arras hangings round their comely halls 
 Wanted the cerite's web and minerals : 
 Green boughs of trees which fatt'ning acorns lade, 
 Hung full with flowers and garlands quaintly 
 made, 320 
 Their homely cotes deck'd trim in low degree, 
 
 As now the court with richest tapestry. 
 
 Instead of cushions wrought in windows lain, 
 
 They pick'd the cockle from their fields of grain, 
 
 Sleep-bringing poppy, by the ploughmen late 325 
 
 Not without cause to Ceres consecrate, 
 
 For being round and full at his half birth 
 
 It signified the perfect orb of earth ; 
 
 And by his inequalities when blown, [330 
 
 The earth's low vales and higher hills were shown. 
 
 By multitude of grains it held within, 
 
 Of men and beasts the number noted been ; * ©eo>xo<f>o- 
 
 And she since taking care all earth to please, JUJr^a w^re 
 
 Had in her Thesmophoria* offer'd these. sacrifices 
 r peculiar to 
 
 Or cause that seed our elders us'd to eat, 335 Ceres, the 
 
 one for being 
 
 3t8. — C~Vr/te, a rare mineral of a pale rose-red colour, with a a lawgiver, 
 . P „ the other as 
 
 tinge of yellow. goddeSJ . of 
 
 321.— Cotes, cottages. the grounds. 
 
 VOL.. I. T 
 
274 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 With honey mix'd, and was their after meat, 
 Or since her daughter that she lov'd so well 
 By him that in th' infernal shades doth dwell, 
 And on the Stygian banks for ever reigns, 
 Troubled with horrid cries and noise of chains, 340 
 Fairest Proserpina, was rapt away ; 
 And she in plaints the night, in tears the day 
 Had long time spent, when no high Power could 
 give her 
 
 * Vide Ser- Any redress ; the poppy* did relieve her : 
 
 Georg n ^ irg For eatin 2 °f tne see( ^ s siee P procur'd, 345 
 And so beguil'd those griefs she long endur'd. 
 Or rather since her love, then happy man, 
 Micon ycleep'd, the brave Athenian, 
 Had been transform'd Into this gentle flower, 
 And his protection kept from Flora's power. 350 
 The daisy scatter'd on each mead and down, 
 A golden tuft within a silver crown ; 
 (Fair fall that dainty flower ! and may there be 
 No shepherd grac'd that doth not honour thee !) 
 The primrose, when with six leaves gotten grace 355 
 Maids as a true-love in their bosoms place ; 
 The spotless lily, by whose pure leaves be 
 Noted the chaste thoughts of virginity ; 
 Carnations sweet with colour like the fire, 
 The fit impresas for inflam'd desire ; 360 
 The harebell for her stainless azur'd hue 
 
 348. — Ycleep'd, called. 360. — Imj>resas, devices. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 275 
 
 Claims to be worn of none but those are true ; 
 
 The rose, like ready youth, enticing stands, 
 
 And would be cropp'd if it might choose the hands. 
 
 The yellow kingcup Flora them assign'd 365 
 
 To be the badges of a jealous mind ; 
 
 The orange-tawny marigold : the night 
 
 Hides not her cojour from a searching sight. 
 
 To thee then, dearest friend (my song's chief mate), 
 
 This colour chiefly I appropriate, 370 
 
 That spite of all the mists oblivion can 
 
 Or envious frettings of a guilty man, 
 
 Retain'st thy worth ; nay, mak'st it more in price, 
 
 Like tennis-balls, thrown down hard, highest rise. 
 
 The columbine in tawny often taken, 375 
 
 Is then ascrib'd to such as are forsaken ; 
 
 Flora's choice buttons of a russet dye 
 
 Is hope even in the depth of misery. 
 
 The pansy, thistle, all with prickles set, 
 
 The cowslip, honeysuckle, violet, 380 
 
 And many hundreds more that grac'd the meads, 
 
 Gardens and groves, where beauteous Flora treads, 
 
 Were by the shepherds' daughters (as yet are 
 
 Us'd in our cotes) brought home with special care : 
 
 For bruising them they not alone would quell 385 
 
 But rot the rest, and spoil their pleasing smell. 
 
 Much like a lad, who, in his tender prime, 
 
 Sent from his friends to learn the use of time, 
 
 As are his mates or good or bad, so he 
 
 Thrives to the world, and such his actions be. 390 
 
276 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 As in the rainbow's many-colour'd hue, 
 Here see we watchet deepen'd with a blue : 
 There a dark tawny with a purple mix'd, 
 Yellow and flame, with streaks of green betwixt, 
 A bloody stream into a blushing run, 395 
 And ends still with the colour which begun ; 
 Drawing the deeper to a lighter stain, 
 Bringing the lightest to the deep'st again, 
 With such rare art each mingleth with his fellow, 
 The blue with watchet, green and red with yellow ; 
 Like to the changes which we daily see [400 
 About the dove's neck with variety, 
 Where none can say (though he it strict attends) 
 Here one begins, and there the other ends : 
 So did the maidens with their various flowers 405 
 Deck up their windows, and make neat their bowers : 
 Using such cunning as they did dispose 
 The ruddy piny with the lighter rose, 
 The monkshood with the bugloss, and entwine 
 The white, the blue, the flesh-like columbine 410 
 W r ith pinks, sweet-williams : that far off the eye 
 Could not the manner of their mixtures spy. 
 
 Then with those flowers they most of all did 
 prize, 
 
 With all their skill, and in most curious wise 
 
 On tufts of herbs and rushes, would, they frame 415 
 
 A dainty border round their shepherd's name. 
 
 392, — Watchet, pale blue. 407.— Piny, peony. 
 
 V 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 277 
 
 Or posies make, so quaint, so apt, so rare, 
 
 As if the Muses only lived there : 
 
 And that the after world should strive in vain 
 
 What they then did, to counterfeit again. 420 
 
 Nor will the needle nor the loom e'er be 
 
 So perfect in their best embroidery, 
 
 Nor such composures make of silk and gold, 
 
 As theirs, when Nature all her cunning told. 
 
 The word of mine did no man then bewitch, 425 
 They thought none could be fortunate if rich. 
 And to the covetous did wish no wrong 
 But what himself desir'd : to live here long. 
 
 As of their songs, so of their lives they deem'd : 
 Not of the long'st, but best perform'd, esteem'd. 430 
 They thought that Heaven to him no life did 
 give, 
 
 Who only thought upon the means to live. 
 
 Nor wish'd they 'twere ordain'd to live here ever, 
 
 But as life was ordain'd they might persever. 
 
 O happy men ! you ever did possess 435 
 Xo wisdom but was mix'd with simpleness ; 
 So wanting malice and from folly free, 
 Since reason went with your simplicity, 
 You search'd yourselves if all within were fair, 
 And did not learn of others what you were. 440 
 Your lives the patterns of those virtues gave, 
 Which adulation tells men now they have. 
 
 With poverty in love we only close, 
 Because our lovers it most truly shows : 
 
278 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 When they who in that blessed age did move, 445 
 Knew neither poverty nor want of love. 
 
 The hatred which they bore was only this, 
 That every one did hate to do amiss. 
 Their fortune still was subject to their will : 
 Their want (O happy !) was the want of ill. 450 
 * Ye truest, fairest, loveliest nymphs that can 
 Out of your eyes lend fire Promethean, 
 All-beauteous ladies, love-alluring dames, 
 That on the banks of Isca, Humber, Thames, 
 By your encouragement can make a swain 455 
 Climb by his song where none but souls attain : 
 And by the graceful reading of our lines 
 Kenew our heat to further brave designs : 
 You, by whose means my Muse thus boldly says : 
 Though she do sing of shepherds' loves and lays, 
 And flagging weakly low gets not on wing [460 
 To second that of Helen's ravishing : 
 Nor hath the love nor beauty of a queen 
 My subject grac'd, as other works have been ; 
 Yet not to do their age nor ours a wrong, 465 
 Though queens, nay, goddesses, fam'd Homer's 
 song : 
 
 Mine hath been tun'd and heard by beauties more 
 
 Than all the poets that have liv'd before. 
 
 Not 'cause it is more worth, but it doth fall 
 
 That Nature now is turn'd a prodigal, 470 
 
 454. — Isca, the river Exe. 466. — Famd, made famous. 
 
Song 3-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 279 
 
 And on this age so much perfection spends, 
 That to her last of treasure it extends ; 
 For all the ages that are slid away 
 Had not so many beauties as this day. 
 
 O what a rapture have I gotten now ! 475 
 That a^e of gold, this of the lovely brow 
 Have drawn me from my song ! I onward run 
 Clean from the end to which I -first begun. 
 But ye, the heavenly creatures of the West, 
 In whom the virtues and the graces rest, 4S0 
 Pardon ! that I have run astray so long, 
 And grow so tedious in so rude a song, 
 If you yourselves should come to acid one grace 
 Unto a pleasant grove or such like place, 
 Where here the curious cutting of a hedge : 485 
 There, by a pond, the trimming of the sedge : 
 Here the fine setting of well-shading trees : 
 The walks there mounting up by small degrees, 
 The gravel and the green so equal lie, 
 It, with the rest, draws on your ling'ring eye: 490 
 Here the sweet smells that do perfume the air, 
 Arising from the infinite repair 
 Of odoriferous buds and herbs of price, 
 (As if it were another Paradise) 
 So please the smelling sense, that you are fain 495 
 Where last you walk'd to turn and walk again. 
 There the small birds with their harmonious notes 
 
 492. — Repair^ resort. 
 
2So 
 
 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Sing to a spring that smileth as she floats : 
 For in her face a many dimples show, 
 And often skips as it did dancing go : 500 
 Here further down an over-arched alley, 
 That from a hill goes winding in a valley, 
 You spy at end thereof a standing lake, 
 Where some ingenious artist strives to make 
 The water (brought in turning pipes cf lead 505 
 Through birds of earth most lively fashioned) 
 To counterfeit and mock the sylvans all, 
 In singing well their own set madrigal. 
 This with no small delight retains your ear, 
 And makes you think none blest but who live 
 there. 510 
 Then in another place the fruits that be 
 In gallant clusters decking each good tree, 
 Invite your hand to crop some from the stem, 
 And liking one, taste every sort of them : 
 Then to the arbours walk, then to the bowers, 515 
 Thence to the walks again, thence to the flowers, 
 Then to the birds, and to the clear spring thence, 
 Now pleasing one, and then another sense. 
 Here one walks oft, and yet anew begin'th, 
 As if it were some hidden labyrinth ; 520 
 So loath to part, and so content to stay, 
 That when the gard'ner knocks for you away, 
 It grieves you so to leave the pleasures in it, 
 That you could wish that you had never seen it : 
 Blame me not then, if while to you I told 525 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 281 
 
 The happiness our fathers clipt of old, 
 
 The mere imagination of their bliss 
 
 So rapt my thoughts, and made me sing amiss. 
 
 And still the more they ran on those days' worth, 
 
 The more unwilling was I to come forth. 530 
 
 Oh ! if the apprehension joy us so, 
 
 What would the action in a human show ? 
 
 wSuch were the shepherds (to all goodness bent) 
 
 About whose thorps* that night curs'd Limos went ; * Villages. 
 
 Where Ke had learn'd that next day all the swains, 
 
 That any sheep fed on the fertile plains, [535 
 
 The feast of Pales, goddess of their grounds, 
 
 Did mean to celebrate. Fitly this sounds, 
 
 lie thought, to what he formerly intended, 
 
 His stealth should by their absence be befriended : 540 
 
 For whilst they in their off rings busied were, 
 
 lie 'mongst the flocks might range with lesser fear. 
 
 I low to contrive his stealth he spent the night. 
 
 The morning now in colours richly dight 
 Stepp'd o'er the Eastern thresholds, and no lad 545 
 That joy'd to see his pastures freshly clad, 
 But for the holy rites himself address'd 
 With necessaries proper to that feast. 
 
 The altars everywhere now smoking be 
 W T ith bean-stalks, savin, laurel, rosemary, 550 
 Their cakes of grummell-seed they did prefer, 
 
 537. — Pales, the goddess of sheepfolds. 
 
 550. — Savin, a species of juniper. 
 
 551. — Grummet!, more usually gromwell. 
 
282 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And pails of milk in sacrifice to her. 
 Then hymns of praise they all devoutly sung 
 In those Palilia for increase of young. 
 But ere the ceremonies were half past 555 
 One of their boys came down the hill in haste, 
 And told them Limos was among their sheep ; 
 That he, his fellows, nor their dogs could keep 
 The rav'ner from their flocks ; great store were kill'd, 
 Whose blood he suck'd, and yet his paunch not 
 fill'd. 560 
 O hasten then away ! for in an hour 
 He will the chiefest of your fold devour. 
 
 With this most ran (leaving behind some few 
 To finish what was to fair Pales due), 
 And as they had ascended up the hill, 565 
 Limos they met, with no mean pace and skill 
 Following a well-fed lamb ; with many a shout 
 They then pursu'd him all the plain about. 
 And either with fore-laying of his way, 
 Or he full gorg'd ran not so swift as they, 570 
 Before he could recover down the strand, 
 No swain but on him had a fasten'd hand. 
 
 Rejoicing then (the worst wolf to their flock 
 Lay in their powers), they bound him to a rock 
 With chains ta'en from the plough, and leaving 
 him 575 
 Return'd back to their feast. His eyes late dim 
 
 554.— Palilia, the festival cr rites of Pales. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA V PASTORALS. 283 
 
 Now sparkle forth in flames, he grinds his teeth, 
 And strives to catch at everything he seeth ; 
 But to no purpose : all the hope of food 
 Was ta'en away ; his little flesh, less blood, 
 lie suck'd and tore at last, and that denied, 
 With fearful shrieks most miserably died. 
 
 Unfortunate Marina, thou art free 
 From his jaws now, though not from misery. 
 Within the cave thou likely art to pine, 
 If (O may never) fail a help divine, 
 And though such aid fhy wants do still supply, 
 Yet in a prison thou must ever lie. 
 But Heav'n, that fed thee, will not long defer 
 To send thee thither some deliverer : 
 For than to spend thy sighs there to the main 
 Thou fitter wert to honour Thetis' train : 
 Who so far now with her harmonious crew 
 Scour'd through the seas (O who yet ever knew 
 So rare a concert ?) she had left behind 
 The Kentish, Sussex shores, the Isle* assigned 
 To brave Vespasian's conquest, and was come 
 Where the shrill trumpet and the rattling drum 
 Made the waves tremble (ere befell this chance) 
 And to no softer music us'd to dance. 
 
 Hail, thou my native soil ! thou blessed plot 
 Whose equal all the world affordeth not ! 
 Show me who can so many crystal rills, 
 
 53o 
 
 585 
 
 590 
 
 595 
 
 * Vecta 
 quam Ves- 
 pasianus a 
 Claudio 
 missus subju- 
 gavit. Vide 
 
 600 S ed - j" ^ l 
 
 tec. lib. 1. 
 ca. 3. 
 
 596. — T/tc Isle, Isle of Wight. 
 
284 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Such sweet- cloth'd valleys or aspiring hills ; [605 
 
 Such wood-ground, pastures, quarries, wealthy mines ; 
 
 Such rocks in whom the diamond fairly shines ; 
 
 And if the earth can show the like again, 
 
 Yet will she fail in her sea-ruling men. 
 
 Time never can produce men to o'ertake 
 
 The fames of Grenville, Davies, Gilbert, Drake, 610 
 
 Or worthy Hawkins, or of thousands more 
 
 That by their power made the Devonian shore 
 
 Mock the proud Tagus ; for whose richest spoil 
 
 The boasting Spaniard left the Indian soil 
 
 Bankrupt of store, knowing it would quit cost 615 
 
 By winning this, though all the rest were-'lost. 
 
 , . As oft the sea-nymphs on her strand have set. 
 * Joseph of _ _ _ . , . 
 
 Exeter Learning of fishermen to knit a net, 
 
 ofthe Troja™ wherein to wind U P their dishevell'd hairs, 
 
 War accord- They have beheld the frolic mariners 620 
 
 the Phry^ reS For exercise (got early from their beds) 
 
 gian's story, pitch bars of silver, and cast golden sleds. 
 
 but falsely ' . & 
 
 attributed to At Exe a lovely nymph with Thetis met : 
 Nepos, 1 as it She sm g' in g came, and was all round beset 
 
 is printed. With other wat'ry powers, which by her song 625 
 He lived in * ... . 
 
 the time of She had allur d to float with her along. 
 
 Rich. 2 i' a See The la >" she chanted she had learn'd of yore, 
 
 the illustra- Taught by a skilful swain,* who on her shore 
 
 most worthy Fed his fair flock : a work renown'd as far 
 
 friend, M. ^ s j^g b rave subject of the Trojan war. 630 
 
 Selden, upon J 
 
 M. Drayton's 
 
 Polyolbicn, 
 
 p. 93. 622.— SledSi sledge-hammers. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 28S 
 
 When she had done, a pretty shepherd's boy 
 That from the near Downs came (though he small joy 
 Took in his tuneful reed, since dire neglect 
 Crept to the breast of her he did affect, 
 And that an ever-busy- watchful eye 635 
 Stood as a bar to his felicity), 
 Being with great entreaties of the swains, 
 And by the fair queen of the liquid plains 
 Woo'd to his pipe, and bade to lay aside 
 All troubled thoughts, as others at that tide, 640 
 And that he now some* merry note should raise, 
 To equal others which had sung their lays : 
 He shook his head, and knowing that his tongue 
 Cculd not belie his heart, thus sadly sung : 
 
 As new-born babes salute their ages' morn 645 
 
 With cries unto their woful mother hurl'd : 
 
 My infant Muse, that was but lately born, 
 
 Began with wat'ry eyes to woo the world. 
 
 She knows not how to speak, and therefore weeps 
 
 Her woe's excess, 650 
 And strives to move the heart that senseless sleeps, 
 
 To heaviness ; 
 Her eyes enveil'd with sorrow's clouds 
 
 Scarce see the light, 
 Disdain hath wrapt her in the shrouds 655 
 
 Of loathed night. 
 I low should she move then her grief- laden wing, 
 Or leave my sad complaints, and pseans sing ? 
 
286 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Six Pleiads live in light, in darkness one. 
 
 Sing, mirthful swains, but let me sigh alone. 66c 
 
 It is enough that I in silence sit, 
 
 And bend my skill to learn your lays aright ; 
 
 Nor strive with you in ready strains of wit, 
 
 Nor move my hearers with so true delight. 
 
 But if for heavy plaints and notes of woe 665 
 
 Your ears are prest ; 
 No shepherd lives that can my pipe outgo 
 
 In such unrest. 
 I have not known so many years 
 
 As chances wrong, 670 
 Nor have they known more floods of tears 
 
 From one so young. 
 Fain would I tune to please as others do, 
 Were't not for feigning song and numbers too. 
 Then (since not fitting now are songs of moan) 675 
 Sing, mirthful swains, but let me sigh alone. 
 
 The nymphs that float upon these wat'ry plains 
 Have oft been drawn to listen to my song, 
 And sirens left to tune dissembling strains 
 In true bewailing of my sorrows long. 680 
 
 659. — In darkness one, Electra. 
 
 666. — Prest, ready. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 287 
 
 Upon the waves of late a silver swan 
 
 By me did ride ; 
 And thrilled with my woes forthwith began 
 
 To sing, and died. 
 Yet where they should, they cannot move. 685 
 
 O hapless verse ! 
 That fitter than to win a love 
 
 Art for a hearse. 
 Henceforward silent be ; and ye my cares 
 Be known but to myself, or who despairs ; 69Q 
 Since pity now lies turned to a stone. 
 Sing, mirthful swains, but let me sigh alone. 
 
 The fitting accent of his mournful lay 
 
 So pleas'd the pow'rful Lady of the Sea, 
 
 That she entreated him to sing again ; 695 
 
 And he obeying tun'd this second strain : 
 
 Born to no other comfort than my tears, 
 Yet robb'd of them by griefs too inly deep, 
 I cannot rightly wail my hapless years, 
 Nor move a passion that for me might weep. 700 
 Nature, alas ! too short hath knit 
 My tongue to reach my woe : 
 Nor have I skill sad notes to fit 
 That might my sorrow show. 
 And to increase my torments' ceaseless sting, 705 
 
 698. — Inly, inwardly. 
 
288 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 There's no way left to show my pains, 
 But by my pen in mournful strains, 
 Which others may perhaps take joy to sing. 
 
 As (woo'd by May's delights) I have been borne 
 To take the kind air of a wistful morn 710 
 Near Tavy's voiceful stream (to whom I owe 
 More strains than from my pipe can ever flow), 
 Here have I heard a sweet bird never lin 
 To chide the river for his clam'rous din ; 
 There seem'd another in his song to tell, 715 
 That what the fair stream did he liked well ; 
 And going further heard another too, 
 All varying still in what the others do ; 
 A little thence, a fourth with little pain 
 Conn'd all their lessons, and them sung again ; 720 
 So numberless the songsters «vre that sing 
 In the sweet groves of the too-careless spring, 
 That I no sooner could the hearing lose 
 Of one of them, but straight another rose, 
 And perching deftly on a quaking spray, 725 
 Nigh tir'd herself to make her hearer stay ; 
 Whilst in a bush two nightingales together 
 Show'd the best skill they had to draw me thither : 
 So (as bright Thetis pass'd our cleeves along) 
 This shepherd's lay pursu'd the others' song, 730 
 And scarce one ended had his skilful stripe, 
 But straight another took him to his pipe. 
 
 713.— Lift) cease. 729. — Cleeves, cliffs. 731. — Stripe, strain. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 289 
 
 By that the younger swain had fully done, 
 Thetis with her brave company had won 
 The mouth of Dart, and whilst the Tritons 
 charm 735 
 The dancing waves, passing the crystal Earme, 
 Sweet Yealm and Plym, arriv'd where Tamar pays 
 Her daily tribute to the western seas. 
 Here sent she up her dolphins, and they plied 
 So busily their fares on every side, 749 
 They made a quick return, and brought her down 
 A many homagers to Tamar's crown, 
 Who in themselves were of as great command 
 As any meaner rivers of the land. 
 With every nymph the swain of most account 745 
 That fed his white sheep by her clearer fount : 
 And every one to Thetis sweetly sung. 
 
 Among the rest a shepherd (though but young, 
 Yet hearten'd to his pipe) with all the skill 
 His few years could, began to fit his quill. 750 
 By Tavy's speedy stream he fed his flock, 
 Where when he sat to sport him on a rock, 
 The water-nymphs would often come unto him, 
 And for a dance with many gay gifts woo him. 
 Now posies of this flower, and then of that ; 755 
 Now with fine shells, then with a rushy hat, 
 With coral or red stones brought from the deep 
 To make him bracelets, or to mark his sheep : 
 
 749. — Hearten 'd, wedded or attached heartily. 
 VOL. I. U 
 
290 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Willy he hight. Who by the ocean's queen 
 More cheer'd to sing than such young lads had 
 . been, 760 
 Took his best framed pipe, and thus 'gan move 
 His voice of Walla, Tavy's fairest love : 
 
 Fair was the day, but fairer was the maid 
 Who that day's morn into the greenwoods stray'd. 
 Sweet was the air, but sweeter was her breath- 
 ing, 765 
 Such rare perfumes the roses are bequeathing. 
 Bright shone the sun, but brighter were her eyes, 
 Such are the lamps that guide the deities ; 
 Nay such the fire is, whence the Pythian knight 
 Borrows his beams, and lends his sister light. 770 
 Not Pelops' shoulder whiter than her hands, 
 Nor snowy swans that jet on Isca's sands. 
 Sweet Flora, as if ravish 'd with their sight, 
 In emulation made all lilies white : 
 For as I oft have heard the wood-nymphs say, 775 
 The dancing fairies, when they left to play, 
 Then back did pull them, and in holes of trees 
 Stole the sweet honey from the painful bees ; 
 Which in the flower to put they oft were seen, 
 And for a banquet brought it to their queen. 780 
 
 762.— Walla. See Note. 
 
 772 — ; Jet, strut. /sea, the river Exe. 
 
 776. — Left to play, ceased playing. 
 
Song 3-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 291 
 
 But she that is the goddess of the flowers 
 (Invited to their groves and shady bowers) 
 Mislik'd their choice. They said that all the 
 field 
 
 No other flower did for that purpose yield ; 
 
 But quoth a nimble fay that by did stand : 785 
 
 If you could give 't the colour of yond hand, 
 
 (Walla by chance was in a meadow by 
 
 Learning to sample earth's embroidery.) 
 
 It were a gift would Flora well befit, 
 
 And our great queen the more would honour it. 700 
 
 She gave consent ; and by some other power 
 
 Made Venus' doves be equall'd by the flower, 
 
 But not her hand ; for Nature this prefers : 
 
 All other whites but shadowings to hers. 
 
 Her hair was roll'd in many a curious fret, 795 
 
 Much like a rich and artful coronet, 
 
 Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay, 
 
 And were or tied, or loath to fly away. 
 
 Upon her bright eyes Phoebus his inclin'd, 
 
 And by their radiance was the god struck blind, 800 
 
 That clean awry th' ecliptic then he stripp'd 
 
 And from the milky way his horses whipp'd ; 
 
 So that the Eastern world to fear begun 
 
 Some stranger drove the chariot of the sun. 
 
 And never but that once did heaven's bright eye 805 
 
 Bestow one look on the Cimmerii. 
 
 A green silk frock her comely shoulders clad, 
 
 And took delight that such a seat it had, 
 
 u 2 
 
292 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Which at her middle gather'd up in pleats, 
 
 A love-knot girdle willing bondage threats. 810 
 
 Not Venus' ceston held a braver piece, 
 
 Nor that which girt the fairest flower of Greece. 
 
 Down from her waist her mantle loose did fall, 
 
 Which Zephyr (as afraid) still play'd withal, 
 
 And then tuck'd up somewhat below the knee 815 
 
 Show'd searching eyes where Cupid's columns be. 
 
 The inside lin'd with rich carnation silk, 
 
 And in the midst of both, lawn white as milk, 
 
 Which white beneath the red did seem to shroud, 
 
 As Cynthia's beauty through a blushing cloud. 820 
 
 About the edges curious to behold 
 
 A deep fringe hung of rich and twisted gold, 
 
 So on the green marge of a crystal brook 
 
 A thousand yellow flowers at fishes look ; 
 
 And such the beams are of the glorious sun, 825 
 
 That through a tuft of grass dispersed run. 
 
 Upon her leg a pair of buskins white, 
 
 Studded with orient pearl and chrysolite, 
 
 And like her mantle stitch'd with gold and green, 
 
 (Fairer yet never wore the forest's queen) 830 
 
 Knit close with ribbons of a party hue, 
 
 A knot of crimson and a tuft of blue ; 
 
 Nor can the peacock in his spotted train 
 
 811. — Ceston , cestus, a studded girdle. 
 
 812. —- Fairest flower of Greece , Helen. 
 828.— Chrysolite ; a stone of a green colour. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 293 
 
 So many pleasing colours show again ; 
 Nor could there be a mixture with more grace, 835 
 Except the heav'nly roses in her face. 
 A silver quiver at her back she wore, 
 With darts and arrows for the stag and boar, 
 But in her eyes she had such darts again [840 
 Could conquer gods, and wound the hearts of 
 men. 
 
 Her left hand held a knotty Brazil bow, 
 Whose strength with tears she made the red deer 
 know. 
 
 So clad, so arm'J, so dress'd to win her will 
 
 Diana never trod on Latmus' hill. 
 
 Walla, the fairest nymph that haunts the woods, 845 
 
 Walla, belov'd of shepherds, fawns, and floods, 
 
 Walla, for whom the frolic satyrs pine, 
 
 Walla, with whose fine foot the flow'rets twine, 
 
 Walla, of whom sweet birds their ditties move, 
 
 Walla, the earth's delight, and Tavy's love. 850 
 
 This fairest nymph, when Tavy first prevail'd 
 And won affection where the sylvans fail'd, 
 Had promis'd (as a favour to his stream) 
 Each week to crown it with an anadem : 
 And now Hyperion from his glitt'ring throne 855 
 Sev'n times his quick'ning rays had bravely shown 
 Unto the other world, since Walla last 
 Had on her Tavy's head the garland plac'd ; 
 
 854. — Anadttn, garland. 
 
294 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And this day (as of right) she wends abroad 
 
 To ease the meadows of their willing load. 860 
 
 Flora, as if to welcome her, those hours 
 
 Had been most lavish of her choicest flowers, 
 
 Spreading more beauties to entice that morn 
 
 Than she had done in many days beforn. 
 
 Look as a maiden sitting in the shade 865 
 Of some close arbour by the woodbind made, 
 Withdrawn alone where undescri'd she may 
 By her most curious needle give assay 
 Unto some purse (if so her fancy move) 
 Or other token for her truest love ; 870 
 Variety of silk about her pap, 
 Or in a box she takes upon her lap, 
 Whose pleasing colours wooing her quick eye, 
 Now this she thinks the ground would beautify, 
 And that, to flourish with, she deemeth best ; 875 
 When spying others, she is straight possess'd 
 Those fittest are ; yet from that choice doth fall, 
 And she resolves at last to use them all : 
 So Walla, which to gather long time stood, 
 Whether those of the field, or of the wood, 880 
 Or those that 'mong the springs and marish lay ; 
 But then the blossoms which enrich'd each spray 
 Allur'd her look ; whose many-colour'd graces 
 Did in her garland challenge no mean places : 
 And therefore she (not to be poor in plenty) 885 
 
 Marish, marsh. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 295 
 
 From meadows, springs, woods, sprays, culls some 
 
 one dainty, 
 Which in a scarf she put, and onwards set 
 To find a place to dress her coronet. 
 
 A little grove is seated on the marge 
 Of Tavy's stream, not over-thick nor large, 890 
 Where every morn a choir of sylvans sung, 
 And leaves to chatt'ring winds serv'd as a tongue, 
 By whom the water turns in many a ring, 
 As if it fain would stay to hear them sing ; 
 And on the top a thousand young birds fly, 895 
 To be instructed in their harmony. 
 Near to the end of this all-joysome grove 
 A dainty circled plot seem'd as it strove 
 To keep all briars and bushes from invading 
 Her pleasing compass by their needless shading, 900 
 Since it, was not so large, but that the store 
 Of trees around could shade her breast and more. 
 In midst thereof a little swelling hill, 
 Gently disburdened of a crystal rill 
 Which from the greenside of the flow'ry bank 905 
 Ate down a channel ; here the wood-nymphs drank, 
 And great Diana having slain the deer, 
 Did often use to come and bathe her here. 
 Here talk'd they of their chase, and where next day 
 They meant to hunt ; here did the shepherds play, 910 
 And many a gaudy nymph was often seen 
 
 911.— Gaudy y gay. 
 
296 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Embracing shepherds' boys upon this green. 
 
 From hence the spring hastes down to Tavy's brim, 
 
 And pays a tribute of his drops to him. 
 
 Here Walla rests the rising mount upon, 91 5 
 
 That seem'd to swell more since she sat thereon. 
 And from her scarf upon the grass shook down 
 The smelling flowers that should her river crown : 
 The scarf (in shaking it) she brushed oft, 
 Whereon were flowers so fresh and lively wrought, 920 
 That her own cunning was her own deceit, 
 Thinking those true which were but counterfeit. 
 
 Under an alder on his sandy marge 
 Was Tavy set to view his nimble charge, 
 And there his love he long time had expected : 925 
 While many a rose-chee v k'd nymph no wile neglected 
 To woo him to embraces ; which he scorn'd, 
 As valuing more the beauties which adorn'd 
 His fairest Walla, than all Nature's pride 
 Spent on the cheeks of all her sex beside. 930 
 Now would they tempt him with their open breasts, 
 And swear their lips were love's assured tests : 
 That Walla sure would give him the denial 
 Till she had known him true by such a trial. 
 Then comes another, and her hand bereaves 93$ 
 The soon slipp'd alder of two clammy leaves, 
 And clapping them together, bids him see 
 And learn of love the hidden mystery. 
 Brave flood (quoth she) that hold'st us in suspense, 
 And show'st a godlike power in abstinence, 940 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 297 
 
 At this thy coldness we do nothing wonder, 
 
 These leaves did so, when once they grew asunder ; 
 
 But since the one did taste the other's bliss, 
 
 And felt his partner's kind partake with his, 
 
 Behold how close they join ; and had they power 945 
 
 To speak their now content, as we can our, 
 
 They would on Nature lay a heinous crime 
 
 For keeping close such sweets until this time. 
 
 Is there to such men ought of merit due, 
 
 That do abstain from what they never knew ? 950 
 
 No : then as well we may account him wise 
 
 For speaking nought, who wants those faculties. 
 
 Taste thou our sweets ; come here and freely sip 
 
 Divinest nectar from my melting lip ; 
 
 Gaze on mine eyes, whose life-infusing beams 955 
 
 Have power to melt the icy northern streams, 
 
 And so inflame the gods of those bound seas 
 
 They should unchain their virgin passages, 
 
 And teach our mariners from day to day 
 
 To bring us jewels by a nearer way. 960 
 
 Twine thy long fingers in my shining hair, 
 
 And think it no disgrace to hide them there ; 
 
 For I could tell thee how the Paphian queen 
 
 Met me one day upon yond pleasant green, 
 
 And did entreat a slip (though I was coy) 965 
 
 Wherewith to fetter her lascivious boy. 
 
 Play with my teats that swell to have impression ; 
 
 And if thou please from thence to make digression, 
 
 Pass thou that milky way where great Apollo 
 
298 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And higher powers than he would gladly follow. 970 
 When to the full of these thou shalt attain, 
 It were some mast'ry for thee to refrain ; 
 But since thou know'st not what such pleasures be 
 The world will not commend but laugh at thee. 
 But thou wilt say, thy Walla yields such store 975 
 Of joys, that no one love can raise thee more ; 
 Admit it so, as who but thinks it strange ? 
 Yet shalt thou find a pleasure more, in change. 
 If that thou lik'st not, gentle flood, but hear : 
 To prove that state the best I never fear. 980 
 Tell me wherein the state and glory is 
 Of thee, of Avon, or brave Thamesis ? 
 In your own springs ? or by the flowing head 
 Of some such river *only seconded ? 
 Or is it through the multitude that do 985 
 Send down their waters to attend on you ? 
 Your mixture with less brooks adds to your fames, ' 
 So long as they in you do lose their names : 
 And coming to the ocean, thou dost see, 
 It takes in other floods as well as thee ; 990 
 It were no sport to us that hunting love 
 If we were still confin'd to one large grove. 
 The water which in one pool hath abiding 
 Is not so sweet as rillets ever gliding. 
 Nor would the brackish waves in whom you 
 meet 995 
 Contain that state it doth, but be less sweet, 
 And with contagious streams all mortals smother, 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 299 
 
 But that it moves from this shore to the other. 
 
 There's no one season such delight can bring, 
 
 As summer, autumn, winter, and the spring. 1000 
 
 Nor the best flower that doth on earth appear 
 
 Could by itself content us all the year. 
 
 The salmons, and some more as well as they, 
 
 Now love the freshet, and then love the sea. 
 
 The flitting fowls not in one coast do tarry, 1005 
 
 But with the year their habitation vary. 
 
 What music is there in a shepherd's quill 
 
 (Play'd on by him that hath the greatest skill) 
 
 If but a stop or two thereon we spy? 
 
 Music is best in her variety. 1010 
 
 So is discourse, so joys ; and why not then 
 
 As well the lives and loves of gods as men ? 
 
 More she had spoke, but that the gallant flood 
 Replied : ye wanton rangers of the wood, 
 Leave your allurements ; hie ye to your chase ; 1015 
 See where Diana with a nimble pace 
 Follows a struck deer : if you longer stay 
 Her frown will bend to me another day. 
 Hark how she winds her horn ; she some doth 
 call, 
 
 Perhaps for you, to make into the fall. 1020 
 With this they left him. Now he wonders 
 much 
 
 Why at this time his Walla's stay was such, 
 And could have wish'd the nymphs back, but for 
 fear 
 
300 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 His love might come and chance to find them 
 there. 
 
 To pass the time at last he thus began 1025 
 
 (Unto a pipe join'd by the art of Pan) 
 
 To praise his love : his hasty waves among 
 
 The frothed rocks, bearing the under-song : 
 
 As careful merchants do expecting stand, 
 After long time and merry gales of wind, 1030 
 Upon the place where their brave ship must land : 
 So wait I for the vessel of my mind. 
 
 Upon a great adventure is it bound, 
 Whose safe return will valu'd be at more [1035 
 Than all* the wealthy prizes which have crown'd 
 The golden wishes of an age before. 
 
 Out of the East jewels of worth she brings ; 
 Th' unvalu'd diamond of her sparkling eye 
 Wants in the treasures of all Europe's kings ; 
 And were it mine they nor their crowns should 
 buy. I0 4° 
 
 The sapphires ringed on her panting breast 
 Run as rich veins of ore about the mould, 
 And are in sickness with a pale possess'd, 
 So true ; for them I should disvalue gold. 
 
 1658.— Undersong, burden. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 301 
 
 The melting rubies on her cherry lip 1045 
 Are of such power to hold, that as one day 
 Cupid flew thirsty by, he stoop 'd to sip, 
 And fasten'd there could never get away. 
 
 The sweets of Candy are no sweets to me 
 When hers I taste ; nor the perfumes of price 1050 
 Robb'd from the happy shrubs of Araby, 
 As her sweet breath, so powerful to entice. 
 
 O hasten then ! and if thou be not gone 
 
 Unto that wished traffic through the main, 
 
 My powerful sighs shall quickly drive thee on, 1055 
 
 And then begin to draw thee back again. 
 
 If in the mean rude waves have it oppress'd, 
 It shall suffice I ventur'd at the best. 
 
 Scarce had he given a period to his lay 
 When from a wood (wherein the eye of day 1060 
 Had long a stranger been, and Phoebe's light 
 Vainly contended with the shades of night, ) 
 One of those wanton nymphs that woo'd him 
 late 
 
 Came crying tow'rds him ; O thou most ingrate, 
 Respectless flood ! canst thou here idly sit, 1065 
 And loose desires to looser numbers fit ? 
 Teaching the air to court thy careless brook, 
 Whilst thy poor Walla's cries the hills have shook 
 
302 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 With an amazed terror : hear ! 0 hear ! 
 
 A hundred echoes shrieking everywhere ! 1070 
 
 See how the frightful herds run from the wood ! 
 
 Walla, alas ! as she, to crown her flood, 
 
 Attended the composure of sweet flowers, 
 
 Was by a lust-fir' d satyr 'mong our bowers 
 
 Well-near surpris'd, but that she him descri'd 1075 
 
 Before his rude embracement could betide. 
 
 Now but her feet no help, unless her cries 
 
 A needful aid draw from the deities. 
 
 It needless was to bid the flood pursue : 
 Anger gave wings ; ways that he never knew 1080 
 Till now, he treads ; through dells and hidden brakes 
 Flies through the meadows, each where overtakes 
 Streams swiftly gliding, and them brings along 
 To further just revenge for so great wrong. 
 His current till that day was never known, 1085 
 But as a mead in July, which unmown 
 Bears in an equal height each bent and stem, 
 Unless some gentle gale do play with them. 
 Now runs it with such fury and such rage, 
 That mighty rocks opposing vassalage 1090 
 Are from the firm earth rent and overborne 
 In fords where pebbles lay secure beforn. 
 Lo'd cataracts, and fearful roarings now 
 Affright the passenger ; upon his brow 
 Continual bubbles like compelled drops, 1005 
 
 1071*— Frightful) frightened. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 303 
 
 And where (as now and then) he makes short 
 stops 
 
 In little pools drowning his voice too high, 
 
 'Tis where he thinks he hears his Walla cry. 
 
 Yet vain was all his haste, bending away, 
 
 Too much declining to the Southern Sea, 1100 
 
 Since she had turned thence, and now begun 
 
 To cross the brave path of the glorious sun. 
 
 There lies a vale extended to the north 
 Of Tavy's stream, which (prodigal) sends forth 
 In autumn more rare fruits than have been spent 1 105 
 In any greater plot of fruitful Kent. 
 Two high-brow'd rocks on either side begin, 
 As with an arch to close the valley in : 
 Upon their rugged fronts short writhen oaks 
 Untouched of any feller's baneful strokes : 1 1 10 
 
 The ivy twisting round their barks hath fed 
 Past time wild goats which no man followed. 
 Low in the valley some small herds of deer, 
 For head and footmanship withouten peer, [m5 
 Fed undisturb'd. The swains that thereby thriv'd 
 By the tradition from their sires deriv'd, 
 Call'd it sweet Ina's Coombe : but whether she 
 Were of the earth or greater progeny, 
 Judge by her deeds ; once this is truly known 
 She many a time hath on a bugle blown, 1 120 
 
 1 109. — Writhen, twisted. 
 
 1117.— Ina's Coombe, Ineecombe, or Inscoombe, about a mile 
 and a half from Tavistock. 
 
304 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And through the dale pursu'd the jolly chase, 
 As she had bid the winged winds a base. 
 
 Pale and distracted hither Walla runs, 
 As closely follow'd as she hardly shuns ; 
 Her mantle off, her hair now too unkind 1125 
 Almost betray'd her with the wanton wind. 
 Breathless and faint she now some drops discloses, 
 As in a limbeck the kind sweat of roses, 
 Such hang upon her breast, and on her cheeks ;[ii30 
 Or like the pearls which the tann'd ^Ethiop seeks. 
 The satyr (spurr'd with lust) still getteth ground, 
 And longs to see his damn'd intention crown'd. 
 
 As when a greyhound of the rightest strain 
 Let slip to some poor hare upon the plain, 
 He for his prey strives, th' other for her life, 1 135 
 And one of these or none must end the strife ; 
 Now seems the dog by speed and good at bearing 
 To have her sure ; the other ever fearing 
 Maketh a sudden turn, and doth defer 
 The hound a while from so near reaching her : 1 140 
 Yet being fetch'd again and almost ta'en, 
 Doubting (since touch'd of him) she 'scapes her bane : 
 So of these two the minded races were, 
 For hope the one made swift, the other fear. 
 
 O if there be a power (quoth Walla then, 1145 
 Keeping her earnest course) o'erswaying men 
 
 1122. — Base, the game of prisoner's bars. 
 1128. — Limbeck, still. 
 1142. — Bane, doom. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 305 
 
 And their desires ! O let it now be shown 
 
 Upon this satyr half part earthly known. 
 
 What I have hitherto with so much care 
 
 Kept undefiled, spotless, white and fair, 1150 
 
 What in all speech of love I still reserv'd, 
 
 And from its hazard ever gladly swerv'd ; 
 
 0 be it now untouch'd ! and may no force 
 That happy jewel from myself divorce ! 
 
 1 that have ever held all women be 1 155 
 Void of all worth if wanting chastity ; 
 
 And whoso any lets that best flower pull, 
 
 She might be fair, but never beautiful : 
 
 O let me not forgo it ! strike me dead ! 
 
 Let on these rocks my limbs be scattered ! 1 160 
 
 ISurn me to ashes with some powerful flame, 
 
 And in mine own dust bury mine own name, 
 
 Rather than let me live and be defil'd. 
 
 Chastest Diana ! in the deserts wild, 
 Have I so long thy truest handmaid been ? 1 165 
 
 Upon the rough rock-ground thine arrows keen, 
 Have I (to make thee crowns) been gath'ring still 
 Fair-cheek'd Etesia's yellow camomile ? 
 And sitting by thee on our flow'ry beds [1170 
 Knit thy torn buckstalls with well-twisted threads, 
 To be forsaken ? O now present be, 
 If not to save, yet help to ruin me ! 
 
 If pure virginity have heretofore 
 
 1 1 70.— Buckstalls, nets for catching deer. 
 VOL. I. X 
 
306 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Bock 2. 
 
 By the Olympic powers been honour'd more 
 Than other states ; and gods have been dis- 
 posal 1 1 75 
 To make them known to us, and still disclos'd 
 To the chaste hearing of such nymphs as we 
 Many a secret and deep mystery ; 
 If none can lead without celestial aid 
 Th' immaculate and pure life of a maid, 1 180 
 O let not then the Powers all-good, divine, 
 Permit vile lust to soil this breast of mine ! 
 
 Thus cried she as she ran : and looking back 
 Whether her hot pursuer did ought slack 
 His former speed, she spies him not at all, 11S5 
 And somewhat thereby cheer'd 'gan to recall 
 Her nigh-fled hopes : yet fearing he might lie 
 Near some cross path to work his villainy, 
 And being weary, knowing it was vain 
 To hope for safety by her feet again, 1 190 
 
 She sought about where she herself might hide. 
 
 A hollow vaulted rock at last she spied, 
 About whose sides so many bushes were, 
 She thought securely she might rest her there. 
 Far under it a cave, whose entrance straight 1 195 
 Clos'd with a stone-wrought door of no mean 
 weight ; 
 
 Yet from itself the gemels beaten so 
 
 That little strength could thrust it to and fro. 
 
 1 1 07.- Gemels. hinges. 
 
Song 3.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 3^7 
 
 Thither she came, and being gotten in 
 
 Barr'd fast the dark cave with an iron pin. 1200 
 
 The satyr follow'd, for his cause of stay 
 Was not a mind to leave her, but the way 
 Sharp-ston'd and thorny, where he pass'd of late, 
 Had cut his cloven foot, and now his gait 
 Was not so speedy, yet by chance he sees 1205 
 Through some small glade that ran between the 
 trees 
 
 Where Walla went, and with a slower pace, 
 Fir'd with hot blood, at last attained the place. 
 
 When like a fearful hare within her form, [12 10 
 Hearing the hounds come like a threatening storm, 
 In full cry on the walk where last she trod, 
 Doubts to stay there, yet dreads to go abroad : 
 So Walla far'd. But since he was come nigh, 
 And by an able strength and industry 
 Sought to break in, with tears anew she fell 1 2 1 5 
 To urge the Powers that on Olympus dwell. 
 And then to Ina call'd : O if the rooms, 
 The walks and arbours in these fruitful coombes 
 Have famous been through all the Western plains 
 In being guiltless of the lasting stains 1220 
 Pour'd on by lust and murder : keep them free ! 
 Turn me to stone, or to a barked tree, 
 Unto a bird, or flower, or ought forlorn ; 
 So I may die as pure as I was born. 
 11 Swift are the prayers and of speedy haste, 1225 
 That take their wing from hearts so pure and chaste. 
 
308 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And what we ask of Heaven it still appears 
 
 More plain to it in mirrors of our tears." 
 
 Approv'd in Walla. When the satyr rude 
 
 Had broke the door in two, and 'gan intrude 1230 
 
 With steps profane inlo that sacred cell, 
 
 Where oft (as I have heard our shepherds tell) 
 
 Fair Ina us'd to rest from Phoebus' ray : 
 
 She or some other having heard her pray, 
 
 Into a fountain turn'd her ; and now rise 1235 
 
 Such streams out of the cave, that they surprise 
 
 The satyr with such force and so great din, 
 
 That quenching his life's flame as well as sin, 
 
 They roll'd him through the dale with mighty roar 
 
 And made him fly that did pursue before. 1240 
 
 Not far beneath i' the valley as she trends 
 Her silver stream, some wood-nymphs and her friends 
 That follow'd to her aid, beholding how 
 A brook came gliding, where they saw but now 
 Some herds were feeding, wondVing whence it 
 came : 1245 
 Until a nymph that did attend the game 
 In that sweet valley, all the process told, 
 Which from a thick-leav'd tree she did behold : 
 See, quoth the nymph, where the rude satyr lies 
 Cast on the grass, as if she did despise 1250 
 To have her pure waves soil'd with such as he : 
 Retaining still the love of purity. 
 
 T241. — Trends, bends, an uncommon word even in Devon- 
 shire. 
 
Song 3-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 309 
 
 To Tavy's crystal stream her waters go, 
 As if some secret power ordained so, 
 And as a maid she lov'd him, so a brook 1255 
 To his embracements only her betook. 
 Where growing on with him, attain'd the state 
 Which none but Hymen's bonds can imitate. 
 
 On Walla's brook her sisters now bewail, 
 For whom the rocks spend tears when others fail, 1260 
 And all the woods ring with their piteous moans : 
 W T hich Tavy hearing as he chid the stones, 
 That stopp'd his speedy course, raisirlg his head 
 Inquir'd the cause, and thus was answered : 
 Walla is now no more. Nor from the hill 1 265 
 Will she more pluck for thee the daffodil, 
 Nor make sweet anadems to gird thy brow, 
 Yet in the groves she runs, a river now. 
 
 Look as the feeling plant* (which learned swains * Sentida. 
 Relate to grow on the East Indian plains) 1270 
 Shrinks up his dainty leaves, if any sand 
 You throw thereon, or touch it with your hand : 
 So with the chance the heavy wood-nymphs told, 
 The river (inly touch'd) began to fold 
 His arms across, and while the torrent raves, 1275 
 Shrunk his grave head beneath his silver waves. 
 
 Since when he never on his banks appears 
 But as one frantic : when the clouds spend tears 
 
 1269. — Feeling filant, sensitive plant. 
 
 1273. — Chance, mishap. 
 
 1274. — Inly, inwardly, to the very depths. 
 
3io BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2, 
 
 He thinks they of his woes compassion take, 
 
 (And not a spring but weeps for Walla's sake) 1280 
 
 And then he often, to bemoan her lack, 
 
 Like to a mourner goes, his waters black, 
 
 And every brook attending in his way, 
 
 For that time meets him in the like array. 
 
 Here Willy that time ceas'd ; and I a while : 1285 
 For yonder's Roget coming o'er the stile ; 
 'Tis two days since I saw him (and you wonder, 
 You'll say, that we have been so long asunder). 
 I think the lovely herdess of the dell 
 That to an oaten quill can sing so well, 1290 
 Is she that's with him : I must needs go meet them, 
 And if some other of you rise to greet them 
 'Twere not amiss, the day is now so long 
 That I ere night may end another song. 
 
 1290.— Quill, pipe. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 3" 
 
 THE FOURTH SONG. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 The Cornish swains and British bard 
 
 T hetis hath with attention heard. 
 
 And after meets an aged man 
 
 That tells the hapless love of Pan: 
 
 And why the flocks do live so free 
 
 From wolves within rich Britanny. ^ 
 
 LOOK as a lover with a iing'ring kiss 
 
 About to part with the best half that's his, 
 
 Fain would he stay but that he fears to do it, 
 
 And curseth time for so fast hast'ning to it : 
 
 Now takes his leave, and yet begins anew 5 
 
 To make less vows than are esteemed true : 
 
 Then says he must be gone, and then doth find 
 
 Something he should have spoke that's out of mind ; 
 
 And whilst he stands to look for't in her eyes, 
 
 Their sad-sweet glance so tie his faculties 10 
 
 To think from what he parts, that he is now 
 
 As far from leaving her, or knowing how, 
 
312 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 As when he came ; begins his former strain, 
 
 To kiss, to vow, and take his leave again : 
 
 Then turns, comes back, sighs, parts, and yet doth 
 
 g°> IS 
 Apt to retire, and loath to leave her sc. 
 Brave stream, so part I from thy flow'ry bank, 
 Where first I breath 'd, and, though unworthy, drank 
 Those sacred waters which the Muses bring 
 To woo Britannia to their ceaseless spring. 20 
 Vide de amce- Now would I on, but that the crystal wells, 
 Malmesb/2. The fertile meadows and their pleasing smells, 
 Pontif 1o St " r ^^ ie wooc * s delightful and the scattered groves, 
 146. Where many nymphs walk with their cha&ter loves, 
 
 * Ordulphus, Soon make me stay : and think that Ordgar's* son, 25 
 Admonish'd by a heavenly vision, 
 Not without cause did that apt fabric rear, 
 Wherein we nothing now but echoes hear 
 That wont with heavenly anthems daily ring 
 And duest praises to the greatest King, 3.0 
 In this choice plot, since he could light upon 
 No place so fit for contemplation. 
 Though I awhile must leave this happy soil, 
 And follow Thetis in a pleasing toil, 
 Yet when I shall return, I'll strive to draw 35 
 The nymphs by Tamar, Tavy, Exe and Taw, 
 By Turridge, Otter, Ock, by Dart and Plym> 
 With all the naiades that fish and swim 
 
 27. — That apt fabric, Tavistock Abbey. See Note. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 313 
 
 In their clear streams, to these our rising Downs, 
 Where while they make us chaplets, wreaths and 
 crowns, 40 
 I'll tune my reed unto a higher key, 
 And have already conn'd some of the lay, 
 Wherein, as Mantua by her Virgil's birth, 
 And Thames by him that sung her nuptial mirth, 
 You may be known, though not in equal pride, 45 
 As far as Tiber throws his swelling tide. 
 And by a shepherd, feeding on your plains, 
 In humble, lowly, plain, and ruder strains, 
 Hear your worths challenge other floods among, 
 To have a period equal with their song. 50 
 
 Where Plym and Tamar with embraces meet, 
 Thetis weighs anchor now, and all her fleet : 
 Leaving that spacious sound,* within whose arms * Plym 
 I have those vessels seen, whose hot alarms 
 Have made Iberia tremble, and her towers 55 
 Prostrate themselves before our iron showers ; 
 While their proud builders' hearts have been 
 inclin'd 
 
 To shake, as our brave ensigns, with the wind. 
 For as an eyerie from their siege's wood 
 Led o'er the plains and taught to get their food 60 
 By seeing how their breeder takes his prey ; 
 
 44- — Him that sung, Spenser, in the Faery Queen, B. iv. c. 1 1. 
 55. — Iberia, Spain. 
 
 58. — Ensigns, flags. 
 
 59. — Eyerie, young brood. Siege, a company of herons. 
 
314 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Now from an orchard do they scare the jay, 
 
 Then o'er the cornfields as they swiftly fly, 
 
 Where many thousand hurtful sparrows lie 
 
 Beating the ripe grain from the bearded ear, 65 
 
 At their approach all (overgone with fear) 
 
 Seek for their safety : some into the dike, 
 
 Some in the hedges drop, and others like 
 
 The thick-grown corn as for their hiding best, 
 
 And under turfs or grass most of the rest ; 70 
 
 That of a flight which cover'd all the grain, 
 
 Not one appears, but all or hid, or slain : 
 
 So by heroes were we led of yore, 
 
 And by our drums that thunder'd on each shore, 
 
 Struck with amazement countries far and near ; 75 
 
 Whilst their inhabitants, like herds of deer 
 
 By kingly lions chas'd, fled from our arms. 
 
 If any did oppose instructed swarms 
 
 Of men immaiFd, Fate drew them on to be 
 
 A greater fame to our got victory. 80 
 
 But now our leaders want ; those vessels lie 
 Rotting, like houses through ill husbandry ; 
 And on their masts, where oft the ship-boy stood, 
 Or silver trumpets charm'd the brackish flood, 
 Some wearied crow is set ; and daily seen 85 
 Their sides instead of pitch caulk'd o'er with 
 green : 
 
 111 hap (alas) have you that once were known 
 
 By reaping what was by Iberia sown, 
 
 By bringing yellow sheaves from out their plain, 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 315 
 
 Making our barns the storehouse for their grain : 90 
 When now as if we wanted land to till, 
 Wherewith we might our useless soldiers fill : 
 Upon their hatches where half-pikes were borne, 
 In every chink lise stems of bearded corn : 
 Mocking our idle times that so have wrought us, 95 
 Or putting us in mind what once they brought 
 us. 
 
 Bear with me, shepherds, if I do digress, 
 And speak of what ourselves do not profess. 
 Can I behold a man that in the field, 
 Or at a breach hath taken on his shield 100 
 More darts than ever Roman* ; that hath spent * M. Scaeva. 
 Many a cold December in no tent 
 But such as earth and heaven make ; that hath been 
 Except in iron plates not long time seen ; 
 Upon whose body may be plainly told 105 
 More wounds than his lank purse doth almsdeeds 
 hold ; 
 
 O ! can I see this man, advent'ring all, 
 
 Be only grae'd with some poor hospital, 
 
 Or may be worse, entreating at his door 
 
 For some relief whom he secur'd before, no 
 
 And yet not show my grief? First may I learn 
 
 To see, and yet forget how to discern ; 
 
 My hands neglectful be at any need, 
 
 Or to defend my body, or to feed, 
 
 106. — Almsdeeds, money bestowed in chanty. 
 
3l6 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Ere I respect those times that rather give him 115 
 Hundreds to punish than one to relieve him. 
 As in an evening when the gentle air 
 Breathes to the sullen night a soft repair, 
 I oft have sat on Thames' sweet bank to hear [120 
 My friend with his sweet touch to charm mine 
 ear, 
 
 When he hath play'd, as well he can, some strain 
 
 That likes me, straight I ask the same again ; 
 
 And he as gladly granting, strikes it o'er 
 
 With some sweet relish was forgot before, 
 
 I would have been content if he would play 125 
 
 In that one strain to pass the night away ; 
 
 But fearing much to do his patience wrong, 
 
 Unwillingly have ask'd some other song : 
 
 So in this diff ring key, though I could well 
 
 A many hours but as few minutes tell, 130 
 
 Yet lest mine own delight might injure you, 
 
 Though loath so soon, I take my song anew. 
 
 Yet as when I with other swains have been 
 Invited by the maidens of our green 
 To wend to yonder wood, in time of year 135 
 When cherry-trees enticing burdens bear, 
 He that with wreathed legs doth upwards go, 
 Plucks not alone for those which stand below ; 
 But now and then is seen to pick a few 
 To please himself as well as all his crew : 140 
 
 118. — Repair) salute. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 317 
 
 Or if from where he is he do espy 
 Some apricock upon a bough thereby, 
 Which overhangs the tree on which he stands, 
 Climbs up and strives to take it with his hands : 
 So if to please myself I somewhat sing, 145 
 Let it not be to you less pleasuring. 
 No thirst of glory tempts me : for my strains 
 Befit poor shepherds on the lowly plains ; 
 The hope of riches cannot draw from me 
 One line that tends to servile flattery, 150 
 Nor shall the most in titles on the earth 
 Blemish my Muse with an adulterate birth, 
 Nor make me lay pure colours on a ground 
 Where nought substantial can be ever found. 
 No ; such as sooth a base and dunghill spirit, 155 
 With attributes fit for the most of merit, 
 Cloud their free Muse ; as when the sun doth 
 shine 
 
 On straw and dirt mix'd by the sweating hyne, 
 
 It nothing gets from heaps so much impure 
 
 But noisome steams that do his light obscure. 160 
 
 My freeborn Muse will not like Danae be, 
 Won with base dross to clip with slavery ; 
 Nor lend her choicer balm to worthless men, 
 Whose names would die but for some hired pen. 
 No ; if I praise, virtue shall draw me to it, 165 
 And not a base procurement make me do it* 
 
 lS^.—Hyne, or hind, farm-servant. 
 
3i8 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 What now I sing is but to pass away 
 A tedious hour, as some musicians play ; 
 Or make another my own griefs bemoan ; 
 Or to be least alone when most alone. 170 
 In this can I as oft as I will choose, 
 Hug sweet content by my retired Muse, 
 And in a study find as much to please 
 As others in the greatest palaces. 
 Each man that lives, according to his power, 175 
 On what he loves bestows an idle hour. 
 Instead of hounds that make the wooded hills 
 Talk in a hundred voices to the rills, 
 I like the pleasing cadence of a line 
 Struck by the consort of the sacred Nine. 180 
 In lieu of hawks, the raptures of my soul 
 Transcend their pitch and baser earth's control. 
 For running horses, Contemplation flies 
 With quickest speed to wiu the greatest prize. 
 For courtly dancing, I can take more pleasure 185 
 To hear a verse keep time and equal measure. 
 For winning riches, seek the best directions 
 How I may well subdue mine own affections. 
 For raising stately piles for heirs to come, 
 Here in this poem I erect my tomb. 190 
 And Time may be so kind in these weak lines 
 To keep my name enroll'd past his that shines 
 In gilded marble, or in brazen leaves : 
 Since verse preserves, when stone and brass de- 
 ceives. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 319 
 
 Or if (as worthless) Time not lets it live 195 
 
 To those full days which others' Muses give, 
 
 Yet I am sure I shall be heard and sung 
 
 Of most severest eld and kinder young 
 
 Beyond my days ; and, maugre Envy's strife, 
 
 Add to my name some hours beyond my life. 2CO 
 
 Such of the Muses are the able powers, 
 And since with them I spent my vacant hours, 
 I find nor hawk, nor hound, nor other thing, 
 Tourneys nor revels, pleasures for a king, 
 Yield more delight : for I have oft possess'd 205 
 As much in this as all in all the rest, 
 And that without expense, when others oft 
 With their undoings have their pleasures bought. 
 
 On now, my loved Muse, and let us bring 
 Thetis to hear the Cornish Michael sing ; 210 
 And after him to see a swain unfold 
 The tragedy of Drake in leaves of gold. 
 Then hear another Grenrille's name relate, 
 Which times succeeding shall perpetuate, 
 And make those two the pillars great of fame, 215 
 Beyond whose worths shall never sound a name, 
 Nor Honour in her everlasting story 
 More deeper grave for all ensuing glory. 
 
 Now Thetis stays to hear the shepherds tell 
 Where Arthur met his death, and Mordred fell : 220 
 Of holy Ursula, that fam'd her age, 
 With other virgins in her pilgrimage : 
 And as she forwards steers is shown the rock 
 
320 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Main- Amber, to be shook with weakest shock, 
 So equal is it pois'd ; but to remove 225 
 All strength would fail, and but an infant's prove. 
 Thus while to please her some new songs devise, 
 And others diamonds (shaped angle-wise, 
 And smooth 'd by Nature, as she did impart 
 Some willing time to trim herself by art,) 230 
 Sought to present her and her happy crew ; 
 She of the Gulf and Scillies took a view, 
 And doubling then the Point, made on away 
 Tow'rds goodly Severn and the Irish Sea ; 
 There meets a shepherd that began sing o'er 235 
 * Robert of The lay which aged Robert* sung of yore, 
 Gloucester. j R praige of Englan( i an( i ^ feeds of swains 
 
 That whilom fed and rul'd upon our plains. 
 The British bards then were not long time mute, 
 But to their sweet harps sung their famous Brute: 240 
 Striving in spite of all the mists of eld, 
 To have his story more authentic held. 
 
 Why should we envy them those wreaths of fame : 
 Being as proper to the Trojan name, 
 As are the dainty flowers which Flora spreads 245 
 Unto the spring in the discolour'd meads ? 
 Rather afford them all the worth we may, 
 
 224.— The Rock Main-Amber, probably the Logan Rock 
 near Land's End. 
 
 •zyz.— The Gulf, Mount's Bay. 
 233. — The Point, Lizard Point. 
 246. — Discolotcrd, variously coloured. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 32i 
 
 For what we give to them adds to our ray. 
 And, Britons, think not that your glories fall, 
 Derived from a mean original ; 250 
 Since lights that may have power to check the 
 dark, 
 
 Can have their lustre from the smallest spark. 
 
 " Not from nobility doth virtue spring, 
 
 But virtue makes fit nobles for a king. 
 
 From highest nests are croaking ravens born, 255 
 
 When sweetest nightingales sit in the thorn." 
 
 From what low fount soe'er your beings are, 
 
 In softer peace and mighty brunts of war, 
 
 Your own worths challenge as triumphant bays 
 
 As ever Trojan hand had power to raise. 260 
 
 And when I leave my music's plainer ground, 
 
 The world shall know it from Bellona's sound. 
 
 Nor shall I err from truth ; for what I write 
 
 She doth peruse, and helps me to indite. 
 
 The small converse which I have had with some, 265 
 
 Branches which from those gallant trees have come, 
 
 Doth what I sing in all their acts approve, 
 
 And with more days increase a further love. 
 
 As I have seen the Lady of the May 
 Set in an arbour, on a holiday, 270 
 Built by the May-pole, where the jocund swains 
 Dance with the maidens to the bagpipe's strains, 
 When envious night commands them to be gone, 
 Call for the merry youngsters one by one, 
 And for their well oerformance soon disposes : 275 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
322 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 To this a garland interwove with roses, 
 To that a carved hook or well- wrought scrip, 
 Gracing another with her cherry lip ; 
 To one her garter, to another then 
 A handkerchief cast o'er and o'er again ; 280 
 And none returneth empty that hath spent 
 His pains to fill their rural merriment : 
 So Nereus' daughter, when the swains had done, 
 "With an unsparing, liberal hand begun 
 To give to every one that sung before, 285 
 Rich orient pearls brought from her hidden store, 
 Red branching coral, and as precious gems 
 As ever beautified the diadems : 
 That they might live what chance their sheep betide, 
 On her reward, yet leave their heirs beside. 290 
 Since when I think the world doth nothing give 
 them, 
 
 As weening Thetis ever should relieve them ; 
 And poets freely spend a golden shower, 
 As they expected her again each hour. 
 
 Then with her thanks and praises for their skill 295 
 In tuning numbers of the sacred hill, 
 She them dismiss'd to their contented cotes ; 
 And every swain a several passage floats 
 Upon his dolphin. Since whose safe repair, 
 Those fishes like a well-composed air ; 300 
 And (as in love to men) are ever seen 
 
 299.— Repair, resort. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 323 
 
 Before a tempest's rough regardless teen, 
 
 To swim high on the waves, as none should dare, 
 
 Excepting fishes, to adventure there. 
 
 When these had left her, she drave on in pride 305 
 Her prouder coursers through the swelling tide, 
 To view the Cambrian cliffs, and had not gone 
 An hour's full speed, but near a rock (whereon 
 Congealed frost and snow in summer lay, 
 Seldom dissolved by Hyperion's ray,) 310 
 She saw a troop of people take their seat, 
 Whereof some wrung their hands, and some did 
 beat 
 
 Their troubled breasts, in sign of mickle woe, 
 For those are actions grief enforceth to. 
 Willing to know the cause, somewhat near hand 315 
 She spies an aged man sit by the strand, 
 Upon a green hillside, net meanly crown'd 
 With golden flowers, as chief of all the ground : 
 By him a little lad, his cunning heir, 
 Tracing green rushes for a winter chair. 320 
 The old man while his son full neatly knits them 
 Unto his work began, as trimly fits them. 
 Both so intending what they first propounded, 
 As all their thoughts by what they wrought were 
 bounded. 
 
 To them she came, and kindly thus bespake : 325 
 
 302. — Teen, violence. 319. — Cunning^ skilful. 
 
 320. — Tracing, plaiting. 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Ye happy creatures, that your pleasures take 
 
 In what your needs enforce, and never aim 
 
 A limitless desire to what may maim 
 
 The settled quiet of a peaceful state, 
 
 Patience attend your labours ! And when Fate 330 
 
 Brings on the restful night to your long days, 
 
 Wend to the fields of bliss ! Thus Thetis prays. 
 
 Fair queen, to whom all duteous praise we owe, 
 Since from thy spacious cistern daily flow 
 (Replied the swain) refreshing streams that fill 335 
 Earth's dugs, the hillocks, so preserving still 
 The infant grass, when else our lambs might bleat 
 In vain for suck, whose dams have nought to eat : 
 For these thy prayers we are doubly bound, [340 
 And that these cleeves should know ; but, O, to 
 sound 
 
 My often mended pipe presumption were, 
 
 Since Pan would play if thou wouldst please to hear. 
 
 The louder blasts which I was wont to blow 
 
 Are now but faint, nor do my fingers know 
 
 To touch half part those merry tunes I had. 345 
 
 Yet if thou please to grace my little lad 
 
 With thy attention, he may somewhat strike 
 
 Which thou from one so young may'st chance to like. 
 
 With that the little shepherd left his task, 
 
 And with a blush, the roses' only mask, 350 
 
 Denied to sing. Ah father, quoth the boy, 
 
 340. — Cleeves, cliffs. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 325 
 
 How can I tune a seeming note of joy ? 
 
 The work which you command me, I intend 
 
 Scarce with a half-bent mind, and therefore spend 
 
 In doing little, now, an hour or two, 355 
 
 Which I in lesser time could neater do. 
 
 As oft as I with my more nimble joints 
 
 Trace the sharp rushes' ends, I mind the points 
 
 Which Philocel did give ; and when I brush 
 
 The pretty tuft that grows beside the rush, 360 
 
 I never can forget in yonder lair 
 
 How Philocel was wont to stroke my hair. 
 
 No more shall I be ta'en unto the wake, 
 
 Nor wend a-fishing to the winding lake ; 
 
 No more shall I be taught on silver strings 365 
 
 To learn the measures of our banquetings ; 
 
 The twisted collars and the ringing bells, 
 
 The morris scarves and cleanest drinking shells 
 
 Will never be renew M by any one ; 
 
 Nor shall I care for more when he is gone. 370 
 
 See ! yonder hill where he was wont to sit, 
 
 A cloud doth keep the golden sun from it, 
 
 And for his seat, as teaching us, hath made 
 
 A mourning covering with a scowling shade. 
 
 The dew 011 every flower this morn hath lain 375 
 
 Longer than it was wont this side the plain ; 
 
 Belike they mean, since my best friend must die, 
 
 To shed their silver drops as he goes by. 
 
 361.— Lair, pasture, or plain. 
 
326 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Not all this day here, nor in coming hither, [380 
 
 Heard I the sweet birds tune their songs together, 
 
 Except one nightingale in yonder dell 
 
 Sigh'd a sad elegy for Philocel ; 
 
 Near whom a wood -dove kept no small ado 
 
 To bid me in her language " Do so too." 
 
 The wether's bell that leads our flock around 385 
 
 Yields, as methinks, this day a deader sound. 
 
 The little sparrows which in hedges creep, 
 
 Ere I was up did seem to bid me weep. 
 
 If these do so, can I have feeling less, 
 
 That am more apt to take and to express ? 390 
 
 No ; let my own tunes be the mandrake's groan, 
 
 If now they tend to mirth when all have none. 
 
 My pretty lad, quoth Thetis, thou dost well 
 To fear the loss of thy dear Philocel. 
 But tell me, sire, what may that shepherd be ? 395 
 Or if it lie in us to set him free, 
 Or if with you yond people touch'd with woe 
 Under the self-same load of sorrow go. 
 
 Fair queen, replied the swain, one is the cause 
 That moves our grief, and those kind shepherds 
 draws 400 
 To yonder rock. Thy more than mortal spirit 
 May give a good beyond our power to merit ; 
 And therefore please to hear while I shall tell 
 The hapless fate of hopeless Philocel. 
 
 Whilom great Pan, the father of our flocks, 405 
 Lov'd a fair lass so famous for her locks, 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 327 
 
 That in her time all women first begun 
 
 To lay their looser tresses to the sun ; 
 
 And theirs whose hue to hers was not agreeing, 
 
 Were still roll'd up as hardly worth the seeing. 410 
 
 Fondly have some been led to think that man 
 
 Music's invention first of all began 
 
 From the dull hammer's stroke ; since well we know 
 
 From sure tradition that hath taught us so, 
 
 Tan, sitting 0 nce to sport him with his fair, 415 
 
 Mark'd the intention of the gentle air, 
 
 In the sweet sound her chaste words brought along, 
 
 Fram'd by the repercussion of her tongue : 
 
 And from that harmony l^egun the art 
 
 Which others (though unjustly) do impart 420 
 
 To bright Apollo from a meaner ground : 
 
 A sledge or parched nerves ; mean things to found 
 
 So rare an art on ; when there might be given 
 
 All earth for matter with the gyre of heaven. 
 
 To keep her slender fingers from the sun, 425 
 
 Pan through the pastures oftentimes hath run 
 
 To pluck the speckled foxgloves from their stem, 
 
 And on those fingers neatly placed them. 
 
 The honeysuckles would he often strip, 
 
 And lay their sweetness on her sweeter lip, 430 
 
 And then, as in reward of such his pain, 
 
 Sin from those cherries some of it again. 
 
 411.— Fondly, foolishly. 422. — Sledge, hammer. 
 
 424.— Gyre, circle. 
 
328 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Some say that Nature, while this lovely maid 
 Liv'd on our plains, the teeming earth array'd 
 With damask roses in each pleasant place, 435 
 That men might liken somewhat to her face. 
 Others report : Venus, afraid her son 
 Might love a mortal as he once had done, 
 Preferr'd an earnest suit to highest Jove, 
 That he which bore the winged shafts of love, 440 
 Might be debarr'd his sight, which suit was sign*d, 
 And ever since the god of love is blind. 
 Hence is't he shoots his shafts so clean awry, 
 Men learn to love when they should learn to die ; 
 And women, which before to love began 445 
 Man without wealth, love wealth without a man. 
 Great Pan of his- kind nymph had the embrac- 
 ing 
 
 Long, yet too short a time. For as in tracing 
 
 These pithful rushes, such as are aloft 
 
 By those that rais'd them presently are brought 450 
 
 Beneath unseen : so in the love of Pan 
 
 (For gods in love do undergo as man), 
 
 She whose affection made him raise his song, 
 
 And, for her sport, the satyrs rude among 
 
 Tread wilder measures than the frolic guests, 455 
 
 That lift their light heels at Lyaeus' feasts : 
 
 She by the light of whose quick-turning eye 
 
 He never read but of felicity : 
 
 She whose assurance made him more than Pan, 
 
 Now makes him far more wretched than a man. 460 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 329 
 
 For mortals in their loss have death a friend, 
 When gods have losses, but their loss no end. 
 
 It chanc'd one morn, clad in a robe of grey, 
 And blushing oft as rising to betray, 
 Entic'd this lovely maiden from her bed 465 
 (So when the roses have discovered 
 Their taintless beauties, flies the early bee 
 About the winding alleys merrily) 
 Into the wood, and 'twas her usual sport, 
 Sitting where most harmonious birds resort, 470 
 To imitate their warbling in a quill 
 Wrought by the hand of Pan, which she did fill 
 Half full with water : and with it hath made 
 The nightingale, beneath a sullen shade, 
 To chant her utmost lay, nay, to invent 475 
 New notes to pass the other's instrument, 
 And, harmless soul, ere she would leave that strife, 
 Sung her last song, and ended with her life ; 
 So gladly choosing, as do other some, 
 Rather to die than live and be o'ercome. . 480 
 
 But as in autumn (when birds cease their notes, 
 And stately forests don their yellow coats : 
 When Ceres' golden locks are nearly shorn, 
 And mellow fruit from trees are roughly torn), 
 A little lad set on a bank to shale 485 
 The ripen'd nuts pluck'd in a woody vale, 
 Is frighted thence, of his dear life afeard, 
 
 485. — Shale, shell. 
 
33o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 By some wild bull loud bellowing for the herd : 
 
 So while the nymph did earnestly contest 
 
 Whether the birds or she recorded best, 493 
 
 A ravenous wolf, bent eager to his prey, 
 
 Rush'd from a thievish brake ; and making way, 
 
 The twined thorns did crackle one by one, 
 
 As if they gave her warning to be gone. 
 
 A rougher gale bent down the lashing boughs, 495 
 
 To beat the beast from what his hunger vows. 
 
 When she (amaz'd) rose from her hapless seat 
 
 (Small is resistance where the fear is great), 
 
 And striving to be gone, with gaping jaws 
 
 The wolf pursues, and as his rending paws 500 
 
 Were like to seize, a holly bent between ; 
 
 For which good deed his leaves are ever green. 
 
 Saw you a lusty mastive at the stake, 
 Thrown from a cunning bull, more fiercely make 
 A quick return ? yet to prevent the gore 505 
 Or deadly bruise which he escap'd before, 
 Wind here and there, nay creep if rightly bred, 
 And proffring otherwhere, fight still at head : 
 So though the stubborn boughs did thrust him back, 
 (For Nature, loath so rare a jewel's wrack, 510 
 Seem'd as she here and there had plash'd a tree, 
 If possible to hinder destiny,) 
 The savage beast foaming with anger flies 
 
 492. — Thievish brake, a thicket that might harbour thieves. 
 511. — PlasJCd, had bent down and interwoven the branches 
 or twigs. 
 
Song 4 ] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 331 
 
 More fiercely than before, and now he tries 
 
 By sleights to take the maid ; as I have seen 515 
 
 A nimble tumbler on a burrow'd green, 
 
 Bend clean awry his course, yet give a check 
 
 And throw himself upon a rabbit's neck. 
 
 For as he hotly chas'd the love of Pan, 
 
 A herd of deer out of a thicket ran, 520 
 
 To whom he quickly turn'd, as if he meant 
 
 To leave the maid, but when she swiftly bent 
 
 Her race down to the plain, the swifter deer 
 
 He soon forsook ; and now was got so near 
 
 That, all in vain, she turned to and fro 525 
 
 As well she could, but not prevailing so, 
 
 Breathless and weary calling on her love 
 
 With fearful shrieks that all the echoes move 
 
 To call him too, she fell down deadly wan, 
 
 And ends her sweet life with the name of Pan. 530 
 
 A youthful shepherd of the neighbour wold, 
 Missing that morn a sheep out of his fold, 
 Carefully seeking round to find his stray, 
 Came on the instant where {his damsel lay. 
 Anger and pity in his manly breast 535 
 Urge yet restrain his tears. Sweet maid, possesAl 
 (Quoth he) with lasting sleep, accept from me 
 His end, who ended thy hard destiny ! 
 With that his strong dog, of no dastard kind, 
 Swift as the foals conceived by the wind, 540 
 
 516. — Tumbler, a rabbit-dog. 
 
332 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 He sets upon the wolf, that now with speed 
 
 Flies to the neighbour-wood ; and lest a deed 
 
 So full of ruth should unrevenged be, 
 
 The shepherd follows too, so earnestly 
 
 Cheering his dog, that he ne'er turn'd again 545 
 
 Till the curst wolf lay strangled on the plain. 
 
 The ruin'd temple of her purer soul 
 The shepherd buries. All the nymphs condole 
 So great a loss, while on a cypress' graff 
 Near to her grave they hung this epitaph : 550 
 
 Lest loathed age might spoil the work in whom 
 
 All earth delighted, Nature took it home ; 
 
 Or angry all hers else were careless deem'd, 
 
 Here did her best to have the rest esteem'd ; 
 
 For fear men might not think the Fates so cross, 555 
 
 But by their rigour in as great a loss. 
 
 If to the grave there ever was assign'd 
 
 One like this nymph in body and in mind, 
 
 We wish her here in balm not vainly spent, 
 
 To fit this maiden with a monument. 56° 
 
 For brass and marble were they seated here 
 
 Would fret or melt in tears to lie so near. 
 
 Now Pan may sit and tune his pipe alone 
 Among the wished shades, since she is gone, 
 Whose willing ear allur'd him more to play, 565 
 Than if to hear him should Apollo stay. 
 
 549.- Graffs shoot. 
 
Song 4-1 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Yet happy Pun ! and in thy love more blest, 
 Whom none but only death hath dispossess'd ; 
 While others love as well, yet live to be 
 Less wrong'd by Fate than by inconstancy. 570 
 
 The sable mantle of the silent night 
 Shut from the world the ever-joysome light ; 
 Care fled away, and softest slumbers please 
 To leave the court for lowly cottages ; 
 Wild beasts forsook their dens on woody hills, 575 
 And sleightful otters left the purling rills ; 
 Rooks to their nests in high woods now were flung, 
 And with their spread wings shield their naked 
 young ; 
 
 When thieves from thickets to the cross-ways stir, 
 And terror frights the lonely passenger ; 5$° 
 When nought was heard but now and then the howl 
 Of some vild cur, or whooping of the owl ; 
 Pan, that the day before was far away 
 At shepherds' sports, return'd ; and as he lay 
 Within the bower wherein he most delighted, 585 
 Was by a ghastly vision thus affrighted : 
 Heart-thrilling groans first heard he round his bower, 
 And then the screech-owl with her utmost power 
 Labour'd her loathed note, the forests bending 
 With winds, as Hecate had been ascending. 590 
 Ilereat his curled hairs on end do rise, 
 And chilly drops trill o'er his staring eyes. 
 
 576. — Sleight/ill^ cunning, sly. 
 
334 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Fain would he call, but knew not who, nor why, 
 
 Yet getting heart at last would up and try 
 
 If any devilish hag were come abroad 595 
 
 With some kind mother's late deliver'd load, 
 
 A ruthless bloody sacrifice to make 
 
 To those infernal powers that by the lake 
 
 Of mighty Styx and black Cocytus dwell, 
 
 Aiding each witch's charm and mystic spell. 600 
 
 But as he rais'd himself within his bed, 
 
 A sudden light about his lodging spread, 
 
 And therewithal his love, all ashy pale 
 
 As evening mist from up a wat'ry vale, 
 
 Appear'd, and weakly near his bed she press'd. 605 
 
 A ravell'd wound distain'd her purer breast, 
 
 Breasts softer far than tufts of unwrought silk, 
 
 Whence had she liv'd to give an infant milk, 
 
 The virtue of that liquor, without odds, 
 
 Had made her babe immortal as the gods. 610 
 
 Pan would have spoke, but him she thus prevents : 
 
 Wonder not that the troubled elements 
 
 Speak my approach ; I draw no longer breath, 
 
 But am enforced to the shades of death. 
 
 My exequies are done, and yet before 615 
 
 I take my turn to be transported o'er 
 
 The nether floods among the shades of Dis, 
 
 To end my journey in the fields of bliss, 
 
 I come to tell thee that no human hand 
 
 Made me seek waftage on the Stygian strand ; 620 
 
 It was an hungry wolf that did imbrue 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Himself in my last blood. And now I sue 
 In hate to all that kind, and shepherds' good, 
 To be revenged on that cursed brood. [625 
 Pan vow'd, and would have clipp'd her, but she fled, 
 And as she came, so quickly vanished. 
 
 Look as a well -grown, stately-headed buck, 
 But lately by the woodman's arrow struck, 
 Runs gadding o'er the lawns, or nimbly strays 
 Among the cumbrous brakes a thousand ways, 630 
 Now through the high-wood scours, then by the 
 brooks, 
 
 On every hillside, and each vale he looks, 
 
 If 'mongst their store of simples may be found 
 
 An herb to draw and heal his smarting wound, 
 
 But when he long hath sought, and all in vain, 635 
 
 Steals to the covert closely back again, 
 
 Where round engirt with fern more highly sprung, 
 
 Strives to appease the raging with his tongue, 
 
 And from the speckled herd absents him till 
 
 He be recover' d somewhat of his ill : 640 
 
 So wounded Pan turns in his restless bed, 
 
 But finding thence all ease abandoned, 
 
 He rose, and through the wood distracted runs : 
 
 Yet carries with him what in vain he shuns. 
 
 Now he exclaim'd on Fate, and wish'd he ne'er 645 
 
 Had mortal lov'd, or that he mortal were. 
 
 And sitting lastly on an oak's bare trunk, 
 
 Where rain in winter stood long time unsunk, 
 
 His plaints he 'gan renew, but then the light 
 
336 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 That through the boughs flew from the Queen of 
 Night, 650 
 As giving him occasion to repine, 
 Bewray'd an elm embraced by a vine, 
 Clipping so strictly that they seem'd to be 
 One in their growth, one shade, one fruit, one tree, 
 Her boughs his arms, his leaves so mix'd with hers, 
 That with no wind he mov'd but straight she stirs, [€55 
 As showing all should be, whom love combin'd : 
 In motion one, and only two in kind. 
 This more afflicts him while he thinketh most 
 Not on his loss, but on the substance lost. 660 
 O hapless Pan, had there but been one by 
 To tell thee, though as poor a swain as I, 
 Though, whether casual means or death do move, 
 u We part not without grief things held with love : 
 Yet in their loss some comfort may be got 665 
 If we do mind the time we had them not." 
 This might have lessen'd somewhat of thy pain, 
 Or made thee love as thou might'st lose again. 
 If thou the best of women didst forego, [670 
 Weigh if thou found'st her, or didst make her so ; 
 If she were found so, know there's more than one ; 
 If made, the workman lives, though she be gone. 
 Should from mine eyes the light be ta'en away, 
 Yet night her pleasures hath as well as day ; 
 And my desires to Heaven yield less offence, 675 
 Since blindness is a part of innocence. 
 So though thy love sleep in eternal night, 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 337 
 
 Yet there's in loneness somewhat may delight. 
 
 Instead of dalliance, partnership in woes 
 
 It wants, the care to keep, and fear to lose. 680 
 
 For jealousies and fortune's baser pelf, 
 
 He rest enjoys that well enjoys himself. 
 
 Had some one told thee thus, or thou bethought 
 thee 
 
 Of inward help, thy sorrow had not brought thee 
 To weigh misfortune by another's good : 685 
 Nor leave thy seat to range about the wood. 
 Stay where thou art, turn where thou wert before, 
 Light yields small comfort, nor hath darkness 
 more. 
 
 A woody hill there stood, at whose low feet 
 Two goodly streams in one broad channel meet, 690 
 Whose fretful waves beating against the hill, 
 1 )kl all the bottom with soft mutt'rings fill. 
 Here in a nook made by another mount, 
 (Whose stately oaks are in no less account 
 For height or spreading, than the proudest be 695 
 That from Oeta look on Thessaly,) 
 Rudely o'erhung there is a vaulted cav^, 
 That in the day as sullen shadows gave, 
 As evening to the woods. An uncouth place, 
 (Where hags and goblins might retire a space,) 700 
 And hated now of shepherds, since there lies 
 The corpse of one, less loving deities 
 Than we affected him, that never lent 
 His hand to ought but to our detriment. 
 
 VOL. I. Z 
 
338 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 A man that only liv'd to live no more, 705 
 
 And died still to be dying 5 whose chief store 
 
 Of virtue was, his hate did not pursue her, 
 
 Because he only heard of her, not knew her ; 
 
 That knew no good, but only that his sight 
 
 Saw everything had still his opposite ; 710 
 
 And ever this his apprehension caught, 
 
 That what he did was best, the other naught ; 
 
 That always lov'd the man that never lov'd ; 
 
 And hated him whose hate no death had mov'd ; 
 
 That (politic) at fitting time and season 715 
 
 Could hate the traitor, and yet love the treason ; 
 
 That many a woful heart (ere his decease) 
 
 In pieces tore to purchase his own peace ; 
 
 Who never gave his alms but in this fashion, 
 
 To salve his credit more than for salvation ; 720 
 
 Who on the names of good men ever fed, 
 
 And (most accursed) sold the poor for bread. 
 
 Right like the pitch-tree, from whose any limb 
 
 Comes never twig, shall be the seed of him. 
 
 The Muses sconrd by him, laugh at his fame, 725 
 
 And never will vouchsafe to speak his name. 
 
 Let no man for his loss one tear let fall, 
 
 But perish with him his memorial ! 
 
 Into this cave the god of shepherds went ; 
 The trees in groans, the rocks in tears lament 730 
 His fatal chance : the brooks that whilom leapt 
 To hear him play while his fair mistress slept, 
 Now left their eddies and such wanton moods, 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 339 
 
 And with loud clamours fill'd the neighb'ring 
 woods. 
 
 There spent he most of night ; but when the day 
 Drew from the earth her pitchy veil away, [735 
 When all the flow'ry plains with carols rung 
 That by the mounting lark were shrilly sung, 
 When dusky mists rose from the crystal floods, 
 And darkness nowhere reign'd but in the woods, 740 
 Pan left the cave, and now intends to find 
 The sacred .place where lay his love enshrin'd : 
 A plot of earth, in whose chill arms was laid 
 As much perfection as had ever maid ; 
 If curious Nature had but taken care 745 
 To make more lasting what she made so fair. 
 
 Now wanders Pan the arched groves, and hills 
 Where fairies often danc'd, and shepherds' quills 
 In sweet contentions pass'd the tedious day : 
 Yet, being early, in his unknown way 750 
 Met not a shepherd, nor on all the plain 
 A flock then feeding saw, nor of his train 
 One jolly satyr stirring yet abroad, 
 Of whom he might inquire ; this to the load 
 Of his affliction adds. Now he invokes 755 
 Those nymphs* in mighty forests that with oaks *^Hamadry- 
 Have equal fates, each with her several tree 
 Receiving birth and ending destiny : 
 Calls on all powers, entreats that he might have 
 But for his love the knowledge of her grave ; jo 
 That since the fates had ta'en the gem away, 
 
 7 9 
 
340 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2, 
 
 He might but see the cark'net where it lay, 
 
 To do fit right to such a part of mould, 
 
 Covering so rare a piece that all the gold 
 
 Or diamond earth can yield, for value ne'er 765 
 
 Shall match the treasure which was hidden there ! 
 
 A hunting nymph awaken'd with his moan, 
 (That in a bower near hand lay all alone, 
 Twining her small arms round her slender waist, 
 That by no others us'd to be embrac'd,) 770 
 Got up, and knowing what the day before 
 Was guilty of, she adds not to his store 
 As many simply do, whose friends so cross'd 
 They more afflict by showing what is lost, 
 But bade him follow her. He, as she leads, 775 
 Urgeth her haste. So a kind mother treads 
 Earnest, distracted, where with blood defil'd 
 She hears lies dead her dear a*nd only child. 
 Mistrust now wing'd his feet, then raging ire, 
 " For speed comes ever lamely to desire." 780 
 
 Delays, the stones that waiting suitors grind, 
 By whom at court the poor man's cause is sign'cl, 
 Who to dispatch a suit will not defer 
 To take death for a joint commissioner ; 
 Delay, the wooer's bane, revenge's hate, 785 
 The plague to creditors' decay 'd estate, 
 The test of patience, of our hopes the rack, 
 
 762.— Carti net, carkanet, a necklace, but possibly 4 casknet,' 
 a casket, should be read. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 341 
 
 That draws them forth so long until they crack ; 
 
 Virtue's best benefactor in our times, 
 
 One that is set to punish great men's crimes, 790 
 
 She that had hinder'd mighty Pan a while, 
 
 Now steps aside : and as o'erflowing Nile 
 
 Hid from Clymene's son his reeking head, 
 
 So from his rage all opposition fled, 
 
 Giving him way to reach the timeless tomb 795 
 
 Of Nature's glory, for whose ruthless doom 
 
 (When all the Graces did for mercy plead, 
 
 And youth and goodness both did intercede,) 
 
 The sons of earth, if living, had been driven 
 
 To heap on hills, and war anew with Heaven. 800 
 
 The shepherds which he miss'd upon the downs 
 
 Here meets he with : for from the neighb'ring towns 
 
 Maidens and men resorted to the grave 
 
 To see a wonder more than time e'er gave. 
 
 The holy priests had told them long agone 805 
 Amongst the learned shepherds there was one 
 So given to piety, and did adore 
 So much the name of Pan, that when no more 
 He breath'd, those that to ope his heart began, 
 Found written there with gold the name of Pan. 810 
 Which unbelieving man that is not mov'd 
 To credit ought, if not by reason prov'd, 
 And ties the overworking power to do 
 Nought otherwise than Nature reacheth to, 
 
 793.— Clymene's son, Phaeton. 
 
342 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Held as most fabulous : not inly seeing, 815 
 The hand by whom we live, and all have being, 
 No work for admirable doth intend, 
 Which reason hath the power to comprehend, 
 And faith no merit hath from heaven lent 
 Where human reason yields experiment. 820 
 Till now they durst not trust the legend old, 
 Esteeming all not true their elders told, 
 And had not this last accident ma de good 
 The former, most in unbelief had stood. [825 
 But Fame, that spread the bruit of such a wonder, 
 Bringing the swain[s] of places far asunder 
 To this selected plot (now famous more 
 Than any grove, mount, plain, had been before 
 By relic, vision, burial, or birth 
 Of anchoress, or hermit yet on earth), 830 
 Out of the maiden's bed of endless rest 
 Shows them a tree new grown, so fairly dress'd 
 With spreading arms and curled top that Jove 
 Ne'er braver saw in his Dodonian grove ; 
 The heart-like leaves oft each with other pile, 835 
 As do the hard scales of the crocodile ; 
 And none on all the tree was seen but bore 
 Written thereon in rich and purest ore 
 The name of Pan ; whose lustre far beyond 
 Sparkled, as by a torch the diamond ; 840 
 Or those bright spangles which, fair goddess, do 
 
 815. — Inly, inwardly. 
 
Song 4.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 343 
 
 Shine in the hair of these which follow you. 
 
 The shepherds by direction of great Pan 
 
 Searched for the root, and finding it began 
 
 In her true heart, bids them again enclo.-e 845 
 
 What now his eyes for ever, ever lose. 
 
 Now in the self-same sphere his thoughts must move 
 
 With him* that did the shady plane-tree love. * Xerxes 
 
 Vet though no issue from her loins shall be 
 
 To draw from Pan a noble pedigree, 850 
 
 And Tan shall not, as other gods have done, 
 
 Glory in deeds of an heroic son, 
 
 Nor have his name in countries near and far 
 
 Proclaimed, as by his child the Thunderer ; 
 
 If Phoebus on this tree spread warming rays, 855 
 
 And northern blasts kill not her tender sprays, 
 
 His love shall make him famous in repute, 
 
 And still increase his name, yet bear no fruit. 
 
 To make this sure, the god of shepherds last, 
 When ( ther ceremonies were o'erpast, 860 
 And to perform what he before had vow'd 
 To dire revenge, thus spake unto the crowd : 
 What I have lost, kind shepherds, all you know, 
 And to recount it were to dwell in woe : 
 To show my passion in a funeral song, 865 
 And with my sorrow draw your sighs along, 
 Words, then, well plac'd might challenge somewhat 
 due, 
 
 And not the cause alone, win tears from you. 
 This to prevent, I set orations by, 
 
344 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 " For passion seldom loves formality." 870 
 
 What profits it a prisoner at the bar, 
 
 To have his judgment spoken regular ? 
 
 Or in the prison hear it often read, 
 
 When he at first knew what was forfeited ? 
 
 Our griefs in others' tears, like plates in water, 875 
 
 Seem more in quantity* To be relator 
 
 Of my mishaps, speaks weakness, and that I 
 
 Have in myself no power of remedy. 
 
 Once (yet that once too often) heretofore 
 The silver Ladon on his sandy shore 880 
 Heard my complaints, and those cool groves that be 
 Shading the breast of lovely Arcady 
 Witnesse[d] the tears which I for Syrinx spent : 
 Syrinx the fair, from whom the instrument [885 
 That fills your feasts with joy (which when I blow 
 Draws to the sagging dug milk white as snow), 
 Had his beginning* This enough had been 
 
 * Pronapis To show tne Fates, my deemed sisters,* teen. 
 
 in suo Proto- jj ere h a( j they stay'd, this adage had been none : 
 
 " That our disasters never come alone." 890 
 
 What boot is it though I am said to be 
 
 The worthy son of winged Mercury ? 
 
 That I with gentle nymphs in forests high 
 
 Kiss'd out the sweet time of my infancy ? 
 
 And when more years had made me able grown, 895 
 
 %%6.—Saggmg, drooping. 
 888. — Teen, violence. 
 
Song 4-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 345 
 
 Was through the mountains for their leader known ? 
 
 That high-brow'd Maenalus where I was bred, 
 
 And stony hills not few have honoured 
 
 Me as protector by the hands of swains, 
 
 Whose sheep retire there from the open plains ? 900 
 
 That I in shepherds' cups (rejecting gold*) Sm^naeus 
 
 Of milk and honey measures eight times told 
 
 I lave offer'd to me, and the ruddy wine 
 
 Fresh and new pressed from the bleeding vine ? 
 
 That gleesome hunters, pleased with their sport, 905 
 
 With sacrifices due have thank'd me for't ? 
 
 That patient anglers standing all the day 
 
 Near to some shallow stickle or deep bay, 
 
 xVnd fishermen whose nets have drawn to land 
 
 A shoal so great it well-nigh hides the sand, 910 
 
 For such success some promontory's head 
 Thrust at by waves, hath known me worshipped ? 
 
 But to increase my grief, what profits this, 
 
 "Since still the loss is as the loser is ? " 
 
 The many-kernel-bearing pine of late 915 
 
 From all trees else to me was consecrate, 
 
 But now behold a root more worth my love, 
 
 Equal to that which in an obscure grove 
 
 Infernal Juno proper takes to her : 
 
 Whose golden slip the Trojan wanderer, 920 
 
 908.— Stickle, a run or swift part of a river ; a word still used 
 in Devonshire. 
 
 920. — The Trojan wanderer, /Eneas (Virgil, /En. vi. 136 
 ft seq.) 
 
346 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 By sage Cumsean Sybil taught, did bring, 
 
 By Fates decreed, to be the warranting 
 
 Of his free passage, and a safe repair 
 
 Through dark Avernus to the upper air. 
 
 This must I succour, this must I defend, 925 
 
 And from the wild boars' rooting ever shend. 
 
 Here shall the woodpecker no entrance find, 
 
 Nor Tavy's beavers gnaw the clothing rind, 
 
 Lambeder's herds, nor Radnor's goodly deer 
 
 Shall never once be seen a-browsing here, 930 
 
 And now, ye British swains, whose harmless sheep 
 
 Than all the world's besides I joy to keep, 
 
 Which spread on every plain and hilly wold 
 
 Fleeces no less esteem'd than that of gold, 
 
 For whose exchange one Indy gems of price, 935 
 
 The other gives you of her choicest spice, 
 
 And well she may ; but we unwise the while 
 
 Lessen the glory of our fruitful Isle, 
 
 Making those nations think we foolish are 
 
 For baser drugs to vent our richer ware, 940 
 
 Which, save the bringer, never profit man 
 
 Except the sexton and physician ; 
 
 And whether change of climes or what it be 
 
 That proves our mariners' mortality, 
 
 Such expert men are spent for such bad fares 945 
 
 As might have made us lords of what is theirs — 
 
 926. — Shend, defend. 
 
 929. — Lambeder^ Llanbedr in Radnorshire. 
 
Song 4 .] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 347 
 
 Stay, stay at home, ye nobler spirits, and prize 
 Your lives more high than such base trumperies : 
 Forbear to fetch, and they'll go near to sue, 
 And at your own doors offer them to you ; 950 
 Or have their woods and plains so overgrown 
 With pois'nous weeds, roots, gums and seeds un- 
 known, 
 
 That they would hire such weeders as you be 
 
 To free their land from such fertility ? 
 
 Their spices hot their nature best endures, 955 
 
 But 'twill impair and much distemper yours. 
 
 What our own soil affords befits us best, 
 
 And long, and long, for ever, may we rest 
 
 Needless of help ! and may this Isle alone 
 
 Furnish all other lands, and this land none ! 960 
 
 Excuse me, Thetis, quoth the aged man, 
 If passion drew me from the words of Pan, 
 Which thus I follow : you whose flocks, quoth he, 
 By my protection quit your industry, 
 For all the good I have and yet may give 965 
 To such as on the plains hereafter live, 
 I do entreat what is not hard to grant, 
 That not a hand rend from this holy plant 
 The smallest branch ; and whoso cutteth this 
 Die for th' offence ; to me so heinous 'tis. 970 
 And by the floods infernal here I swear, 
 (An oath whose breach the greatest gods forbear,) 
 
 954. — Quit, requite. 
 
34$ BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 Ere Phoebe thrice twelve times shall fill her horns 
 
 No furzy tuft, thick wood, nor brake of thorns 
 
 Shall harbour wolf, nor in this Isle shall breed, 975 
 
 Nor live one of that kind, if what's decreed 
 
 You keep inviolate. To this they swore : 
 
 And since those beasts have frighted us no more. 
 
 But swain, quoth Thetis, what is this you tell, 
 
 To what you fear shall fall on Philocel ? 980 
 
 Fair queen, attend ; but oh I fear, quoth he, 
 Ere I have ended my sad history, 
 Unstaying time may bring on his last hour, 
 And so defraud us of thy wished pow'r. 
 Yond goes a shepherd : give me leave to run 985 
 And know the time of execution. 
 Mine aged limbs I can a little strain, 
 And quickly come, to end the rest, again. 
 
Song 5-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 349 
 
 THE FIFTH SONCx. 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 Within this Song my Muse doth tell 
 
 The worthy fact a of Philocel, 
 
 And how his Love and he in thrall 
 
 To death depriv'd of funeral 
 
 The Queen of Waves doth gladly save, 
 
 And frees Marina from the cave. 
 
 So soon as can a martin from our town 
 
 Fly to the river underneath the down, 
 
 And back return with mortar in her bill, 
 
 Some little cranny in her nest to fill, 
 
 The shepherd came, and thus began anew : 5 
 
 Two hours, alas, only two hours are due 
 
 From time to him, 'tis sentenc'd so of those 
 
 That here on earth as Destinies dispose 
 
 The lives and deaths of men ; and that time past 
 
 He yields his judgment leave and breathes his last. 10 
 
 But to the cause. Great goddess, understand 
 In Mona-Isle thrust from the British land, 
 
 a Fact, deed. 
 
350 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 As (since it needed nought of others' store) 
 
 It would entire be and a part no more, 
 
 There liv'd a maid so fair, that for her sake 15 
 
 Since she was born the Isle had never snake, 
 
 Nor were it fit a deadly sting should be 
 
 To hazard such admired symmetry : 
 
 So many beauties so commix'd in one, 
 
 That all delight were dead if she were gone. 20 
 
 Shepherds that in her clear eyes did delight, 
 
 Whilst they were open never held it night ; 
 
 And were they shut, although the morning grey 
 
 CalPd up the sun, they hardly thought it day ; 
 
 Or if they call'd it so, they did not pass 25 
 
 Withal to say that it eclipsed was. 
 
 The roses on her cheeks, such as each turn, 
 
 Phoebus might kiss, but had no pow'r to burn. 
 
 From her sweet lips distil sweets sweeter do, 
 
 Than from a cherry half way cut in two ; 30 
 
 Whose yielding touch would, as Promethean fire, 
 
 Lumps truly senseless with a Muse inspire ; 
 
 Who praising her would youth's desire so stir, 
 
 Each man in mind should be a ravisher. 
 
 Some say the nimble- witted Mercury 35 
 
 Went late disguis'd professing palmistry, 
 
 And milkmaids' fortunes told about the land, 
 
 Only to get a touch of her soft hand ; 
 
 And that a shepherd walking on the brim 
 
 25. - Pass, hesitate. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 351 
 
 Of a clear stream where she did use to swim, 40 
 Saw her by chance, and thinking she had been 
 Of chastity the pure and fairest queen, 
 Stole thence dismay'd, lest he by her decree 
 Might undergo Actseon's destiny. 
 Did youth's kind heat inflame me (but the snow 45 
 Upon my head shows it cool'd long ago), 
 I then could give, fitting so fair a feature, 
 Right to her fame, and fame to such a creature. 
 When now much like a man the palsy shakes 
 And spectacles befriend, yet undertakes 50 
 To limn a lady, to whose red and white 
 Apelles' curious hand would owe some right : 
 His too unsteady pencil shadows here 
 Somewhat too much, and gives not overclear ; 
 His eye deceiv'd mingles his colours wrong, 55 
 There strikes too little, and here stays too long, 
 Does and undoes, takes off, puts on (in vain) 
 Now too much white, then too much red again ; 
 And thinking then to give some special grace, 
 He works it ill, or so mistakes the place, 60 
 That she which sits were better pay for nought, 
 Than have it ended, and so lamely wrought : 
 So do I in this weak description err, 
 And striving more to grace, more injure her ; 
 For ever where true worth for praise doth call, 65 
 He rightly nothing gives that gives not all ; 
 But as a lad who learning to divide, 
 42.— Queen, Diana. 
 
352 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 By one small miss the whole hath falsified. 
 
 Cselia men call'd, and rightly call'd her so : 
 
 Whom Philocel (of all the swains I know 70 
 
 Most worthy) lov'd : alas ! that love should be 
 
 Subject to fortune's mutability ! 
 
 Whatever learned bards tofore have sung, 
 
 Or on the plains shepherds and maidens young, 
 
 Of sad mishaps in love are set to tell, 75 
 
 Comes short to match the fate of Philocel. 
 
 For as a labourer toiling at a bay 
 To force some clear stream from his wonted way, 
 Working on this side sees the water run 
 Where he wrought last and thought it firmly done ; 80 
 And that leak stopp'd, hears it come breaking out 
 Another where, in a far greater spout, 
 Which mended too, and with a turf made trim, 
 The brook is ready to o'erflow the brim ; 
 Or in the bank the water having got, 85 
 Some mole-hole, runs where he expected not ; 
 And when all's done, still fears lest some great rain 
 Might bring a flood and throw all down again : 
 So in our shepherd's love : one hazard gone, 
 Another still as bad was coming on : 90 
 This danger past, another doth begin, 
 And one mishap thrust out lets twenty in. 
 For he that loves, and in it hath no stay, 
 Limits his bliss seld' past the marriage-day. 
 
 But Philocel's, alas, and Ccelia's too 95 
 70. — Philocel, perhaps Philo-Cselia. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 353 
 
 Must ne'er attain so far as others do ; 
 
 Else Fortune in them from her course should swerve, 
 
 Who most afflicts those that most good deserve. 
 
 Twice had the glorious sun run through the signs, 
 And with his kindly heat improv'd the mines, 100 
 (As such affirm with certain hopes that try 
 The vain and fruitless art of aJchemy,) 
 Since our swain lov'd : and twice had Phoebus been 
 In horned Aries taking up his inn, 
 Ere he of Cadia's heart possession won ; 105 
 And since that time all his intentions done 
 Nothing to bring her thence. All eyes upon her 
 Watchful, as Virtue's are on truest honour : 
 Kept on the Isle as carefully of some, 
 As by the Trojans their Palladium. no 
 
 But where's the fortress that can Love debar ? 
 The forces to oppose when he makes war ? 
 The watch which he shall never find asleep ? 
 The spy that shall disclose his counsels deep? [115 
 That fort, that force, that watch, that spy would be 
 A lasting stop to a fifth empery ; 
 But we as well may keep the heat from fire 
 As sever hearts whom love hath made entire. 
 
 In lovely May when Titan's golden rays [12 
 Make odds in hours between the nights and days, 
 
 wo— Palladium, the image or statue of Pallas, which, in 
 the reign of Ilus, fell from heaven at Troy, and upon the 
 possession of which depended the fate of the city (Virgil, 
 sE field, ii. 166). 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 A A 
 
354 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And weigheth almost down the once-even scale 
 
 Where night and day by th' Equinoctial 
 
 Were laid in balance, as his pow'r he bent 
 
 To banish Cynthia from her regiment 
 
 To Latmus' stately hill, and with his light 125 
 
 To rule the upper world both day and night : 
 
 Making the poor Antipodes to fear 
 
 A like conjunction 'twixt great Jupiter 
 
 And some Alcmena new, or that the sun 
 
 From their horizon did obliquely run : 130 
 
 This time the swains and maidens of the Isle 
 
 The day with sportive dances do beguile, 
 
 And every valley rings with shepherds' songs, 
 
 And every echo each sweet note prolongs, 
 
 And every river with unusual pride 1 35 
 
 And dimpled cheek rolls sleeping to the tide ; 
 
 And lesser springs, which aerie-breeding woods 
 
 Prefer as handmaids to the mighty floods, 
 
 Scarce fill up half their channels, making haste 
 
 (In fear, as boys) lest all the sport be past. 140 
 
 Now was the Lord and Lady of the May 
 Meeting the May-pole at the break of day, 
 And Cselia, as the fairest on the green, 
 Not without some maids' envy chosen queen. 
 Now was the time com'n, when our gentle swain 145 
 Must in his harvest or lose all again. 
 
 137. — Aerie-breeding woods, woods chosen by hawks to rear 
 their young, hence well-grown, lofty 
 146.— In, gather in. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 355 
 
 Now must he pluck the rose lest other hands, 
 
 Or tempests, blemish what so fairly stands : 
 
 And therefore, as they had before decreed, 
 
 Our shepherd gets a boat, and with all speed 150 
 
 In night, that doth on lovers' actions smile, 
 
 Arrived safe on Mona's fruitful isle. 
 
 Between two rocks (immortal, without mother,) 
 That stand as if out-facing one another, 
 There ran a creek up, intricate and blind, 155 
 As if the waters hid them from the wind ; 
 Which never wash'd but at a higher tide 
 The frizzled coats which do the mountains hide ; 
 Where never gale was longer known to stay 
 Than from the smooth wave it had swept away 160 
 The new divorced leaves, that from each side 
 Left the thick boughs to dance out with the tide. 
 At further end the creek a stately wood 
 Ciave a kind shadow to the brackish flood 
 Made up of trees, not less kenn'd by each skiff 165 
 Than that sky-scaling Peak of Teneriffe, 
 Upon whose tops the hernshaw bred her young, 
 And hoary moss upon their branches hung ; 
 Whose rugged rinds sufficient were to show, [170 
 Without their height, what time they 'gan to grow ; 
 And if dry eld by wrinkled skin appears, 
 None could allot them less than Nestor's years. 
 As under their command the thronged creek 
 
 \6j.—Hemsha7v, heron. 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Ran lessen'd up. Here did the shepherd seek 
 Where he his little boat might safely hide, 175 
 Till it was fraught with what the world beside 
 Could not outvalue ; nor give equal weight 
 Though in the time when Greece was at her height. 
 
 The ruddy horses of the rosy Morn 
 Out of the Eastern gates had newly borne 180 
 Their blushing mistress in her golden chair, 
 Spreading new light throughout our hemisphere, 
 When fairest Cselia with a lovelier crew 
 Of damsels than brave Latmus ever knew [185 
 Came forth to meet the youngsters, who had here 
 Cut down an oak that long withouten peer 
 Bore his round head imperiously above 
 His other mates there, consecrate to Jove. 
 The wished time drew on : and Caelia now, 
 That had the fame for her white arched brow, 190 
 While all her lovely fellows busied were 
 In picking off the gems from Tellus' hair, 
 Made tow'rds the creek, where Philocel unspied 
 Of maid or shepherd that their May-games plied, 
 Receiv'd his wish'd-for Cselia, and begun 195 
 To steer his boat contrary to the sun, 
 Who could have wish'd another in his place 
 To guide the car of light, or that his race 
 Were to have end (so he might bless his hap) 
 
 184. — Latmus, o. mountain in Caria, where Artemis (Luna) 
 kissed the sleeping Endymion. 
 
Songs-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 357 
 
 In Cselia's bosom, not in Thetis' lap. 200 
 The boat oft danc'd for joy of what it held : 
 The hoist-up sail not quick but gently swell'd, 
 And often shook, as fearing what might fall, 
 Ere she deliver'd what she went withal. 
 
 Winged Argestes,* fair Aurora's son, 205 * The west- 
 
 t • ? i 1 1 1 1 • 1 ern wind- 
 
 Licens d that day to leave his dungeon, And sup- 
 
 Meekly attended and did never err, P. ose( i 
 
 J 9 the stars) the 
 
 Till Coelia grac'd our land, and our land her. birth of 
 
 As through the waves their love-fraught wherry ran, Astrseus^as 
 A many Cupids, each set on his swan, 210 £pollodorus : 
 
 Guided with reins 01 gold and silver twist AvrpaCov 
 The spotless birds about them as they list : ° vefX0t * al 
 
 Which would have sung a song (ere they were gone), 
 Had unkind Nature given them more than one ; 
 Or in bestowing that had not done wrong, 215 
 And made their sweet lives forfeit one sad song. 
 
 Yet that their happy voyage might not be 
 Without time's short'ner, heaven-taught melody 
 (Music that lent feet to the stable woods, 
 And in their currents turn'd the mighty floods : 220 
 Sorrow's sweet nurse, yet keeping joy alive : 
 Sad discontent's most welcome corrosive : 
 The soul of Art, best lov'd when Love is by : 
 The kind inspirer of sweet Poesy, [225 
 Lest thou shouldst wanting be, when swans would fain 
 Have sung one song, and never sung again,) 
 The gentle shepherd hasting to the shore 
 Began this lay, and tim'd it with his oar : 
 
358 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Never more let holy Dee 
 
 O'er other rivers brave, 230 
 Or boast how (in his jollity) 
 Kings row'd upon his wave ; 
 But silent be, and ever know 
 That Neptune for my fare would row. 
 
 Those were captives. If he say 235 
 
 That now I am no other, 
 Yet she that bears my prison's key 
 Is fairer than Love's mother. 
 A god took me, those, one less high : 
 They wore their bonds, so do not I. 240 
 
 Swell then, gently swell, ye floods, 
 
 As proud of what ye bear, 
 And nymphs, that in low coral woods 
 String pearls upon your hair, 
 Ascend : and tell if ere this day 245 
 A fairer prize was seen at sea. 
 
 See, the salmons leap and bound 
 
 To please us as we pass ; 
 Each mermaid on the rocks around, 
 
 Lets fall her brittle glass, 250 
 
 232.—- Kings, i.e., of the Scots, of Cumberland, and of the 
 Isles, and five Welsh princes, who declared their vassalage to 
 Eadgar, king of the English, by rowing him in a boat which 
 he himself steered at his coronation in 973. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 359 
 
 As they their beauties did despise, 
 And lov'd no mirror but your eyes. 
 
 Blow, but gently blow, fair wind, 
 
 From the forsaken shore, 
 And be as to the Halcyon kind, 255 
 Till we have ferried o'er : 
 So may'st thou still have leave to blow, 
 And fan the way where she shall go. 
 
 Floods, and nymphs, and winds, and all 
 
 That see us both together, 260 
 Into a disputation fall, 
 
 And then resolve me whether 
 The greatest kindness each can show 
 Will quit our trust of you or no. 
 
 Thus as a merry milkmaid, neat and fine, 265 
 Returning late from milking of her kine, 
 Shortens the dew'd way which she treads along 
 With some self-pleasing-since-new-gotten song, 
 The shepherd did their passage well beguile. 
 
 And now the horned flood bore to our Isle 270 
 His head more high than he had us'd to do, 
 Except by Cynthia's newness forced to. 
 Not January's snow dissolv'd in floods 
 Makes Tamar more intrude on Blanchden Woods, 
 
 274. — BlancJiden, or Blanchdoivn Woods, on the east bank 
 of the Tamar, about four miles west of Tavistock. 
 
360 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Nor the concourse of waters where they fleet 275 
 
 After a long rain, and in Severn meet, 
 
 Rais'th her enraged head to root fair plants, 
 
 Or more affright her nigh inhabitants, 
 
 (When they behold the waters ruefully, 
 
 And save the waters nothing else can see,} 280 
 
 Than Neptune's subject now, more than of yore : 
 
 As loath to set his burden soon on shore. 
 
 O Neptune \ hadst thou kept them still with thee, 
 Though both were lost to us and such as we, [285 
 And with those beauteous birds which on thy breast 
 Get and bring up, afforded them a rest, 
 Delos, that long time wand'ring piece of earth, 
 Had not been fam'd more for Diana's birth, 
 Than those few planks that bore them on the seas, 
 By the blest issue of two such as these. 290 
 
 But they were landed : so are not our woes, 
 Nor ever shall, whilst from an eye there flows 
 One drop of moisture ; to these present times 
 We will relate, and some sad shepherd's rhymes 
 To after ages may their fates make known, 295 
 And in their depth of sorrow drown his own. 
 So our relation and his mournful verse 
 Of tears shall force such tribute to their hearse, 
 That not a private grief shall ever thrive 
 But in that deluge fall, yet this survive. 300 
 
 Two furlongs from the shore they had not gone, 
 When from a low-cast valley (having on 
 Each hand a woody hill, whose boughs unlopp'd 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 361 
 
 Have not alone at all time sadly dropp'd, 
 
 And turn'd their storms on her dejected breast, 305 
 
 But when the fire of heaven is ready prest 
 
 To warm and further what it should bring forth, 
 
 For lowly dales mate mountains in their worth, 
 
 The trees (as screenlike greatness) shade his ray, 
 
 As it should shine on none but such as they) — 310 
 
 Came, and full sadly came, a hapless wretch, 
 
 Whose walks and pastures once were known to stretch 
 
 From east to west so far that no dike ran 
 
 For noted bounds, but where the ocean 
 
 His wrathful billows thrust, and grew as great 315 
 
 In shoals of fish as were the other's neat : 
 
 Who now dejected and depriv'd of all, 
 
 Longs, and hath done so long, for funeral. 
 
 For as with hanging head I have beheld 
 A widow vine stand in a naked field, 320 
 Unhusbanded, neglected, all forlorn, 
 Brows'd on by deer, by cattle cropp'd and torn ; 
 Unpropp'd, unsuccoured by stake or tree 
 From wreakful storms' impetuous tyranny, 
 When, had a willing hand lent kind redress, 325 
 Her pregnant bunches might from out the press 
 Have sent a liquor both for taste and show 
 No less divine than those of Malligo : 
 Such was this wight, and such she might have been. 
 
 316. — Neat, oxen. 
 
 328.— Malligo, a corruption of Malaga, famous for its wine. 
 
362 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 She both th' extremes hath felt of Fortune's teen, 330 
 
 For never have we heard from times of yore, 
 
 One sometime envied and now pitied more. 
 
 Her object, as her state, is low as earth ; 
 
 Privation her companion ; thoughts of mirth 
 
 Irksome ; and in one self-same circle turning, 335 
 
 With sudden sports brought to a house of mourning. 
 
 Of others' good her best belief is still 
 
 And constant to her own in nought but ill. 
 
 The only enemy and friend she knows 
 
 Is Death, who, though defers, must end her woes; 340 
 
 Her contemplation frightful as the night ; 
 
 She never looks on any living wight 
 
 Without comparison ; and as the day 
 
 Gives us, but takes the glowworm's light away : 
 
 So the least ray of bliss on others thrown 345 
 
 Deprives and blinds all knowledge of her own. 
 
 Her comfort is (if for her any be) 
 
 That none can show more cause of grief than she. 
 
 Yet somewhat she of adverse Fate hath won, 
 
 Who had undone her were she not undone. 350 
 
 For those that on the sea of greatness ride 
 
 Far from the quiet shore, and where the tide 
 
 In ebbs and floods is guess'd, not truly known ; 
 
 Expert of all estates except their own ; 
 
 Keeping their station at the helm of State 355 
 
 Not by their virtues but auspicious fate ; 
 
 330. — Teen, violence. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 363 
 
 Subject to calms of favour, storms of rage, 
 
 Their actions noted as the common stage ; 
 
 Who, like a man bom blind that cannot be 
 
 By demonstration shown what 'tis to see, 360 
 
 Live still in ignorance of what they want, 
 
 Till misery become the adamant, 
 
 And touch them for that point, to which with speed 
 
 None comes so sure as by the hand of Need. 
 
 A mirror strange she in her right hand bore, 365 
 
 By which her friends from flatterers heretofore 
 
 She could distinguish well ; and by her side, 
 
 As in her full of happiness, untied 
 
 Unforc'd and uncompell'd did sadly go, 
 
 As if partaker of his mistress' woe, 370 
 
 A loving spaniel, from whose rugged back, 
 
 The only thing but death she moans to lack, 
 
 She plucks the hair, and working them in pleats 
 
 Furthers the suit which modesty entreats. 
 
 Men call her Athliot : who cannot be 375 
 
 More wretched made by infelicity, 
 
 Unless she here had an immortal breath, 
 
 Or living thus, liv'd timorous of death. 
 
 Out of her lowly and forsaken dell 
 She running came, and cried to Philocel : 3S0 
 Help ! help ! kind shepherd, help ! see yonder, where 
 A lovely lady hung up by the hair 
 Struggles, but mildly struggles, with the Fates, 
 
 375.— Athliot) Gr. dflAioTijs, wretchedness. 
 
364 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Whose thread of life, spun to a thread that mates 
 Dame Nature's in her hair, stays them to wonder, 385 
 While too fine twisting makes it break in sunder. 
 So shrinks the rose that with the flames doth meet ; 
 So gently bows the virgin parchment sheet ; 
 So roll the waves up and fall out again, 
 As all her beauteous parts, and all in vain. 390 
 Far, far, above my help or hope in trying, 
 Unknown, and so more miserably dying, 
 Smoth'ring her torments in her panting breast, 
 She meekly waits the time of her long rest. 
 Hasten ! O hasten then ! kind shepherd, haste. 395 
 
 He went with her, and Caslia, that had grac'd 
 Him past the world besides, seeing the way 
 He had to go, not far, rests on the lay. 
 
 'Twas near the place where Pan's transformed love 
 Her gilded leaves display'd, and boldly strove 400 
 For lustre with the sun : a sacred tree, 
 Pal'd round and kept from violation free : 
 Whose smallest spray rent off we never prize 
 At less than life. Here, though her heavenly eyes 
 From him she lov'd could scarce afford a sight, 405 
 As if for him they only had their light, 
 Those kind and brighter stars were known to err 
 And to all misery betrayed her. 
 For turning them aside, she (hapless) spies 
 The holy tree, and (as all novelties 410 
 
 398.— Lay, lea, pasture. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 365 
 
 In tempting women have small labour lost 
 
 Whether for value nought, or of more cost,) 
 
 Led by the hand of uncontroll'd desire 
 
 She rose, and thither went. A wrested briar 
 
 Only kept close the gate which led into it, 415 
 
 (Easy for any all times to undo it, 
 
 That with a pious hand hung on the tree 
 
 Garlands or raptures of sweet poesy,) 
 
 Which by her opened, with unweeting hand 
 
 A little spray she pluck'd, whose rich leaves fann'd 420 
 
 And chatter'd with the air, as who should say : 
 
 Do not for once, O do not this bewray ! 
 
 Nor give sound to a tongue for that intent ! 
 
 M Who ignorantly sins, dies innocent." 
 
 By this was Philocel returning back, 
 And in his hand the lady ; for whose wrack 
 Nature had clean foresworn to frame a wight 
 So wholly pure, so truly exquisite ; 
 But more deform'd and from a rough-hewn mould, 
 Since what is best lives seldom to be old. 43° 
 Within their sight was fairest Cselia now ; 
 Who drawing near, the life-priz'd golden bough 
 Her love beheld. And as a mother kind 
 What time the new-cloth'd trees by gusts of wind 
 Unmov'd, stand wistly list'ning to those lays 435 
 The feather'd quiristers upon their sprays 
 Chant to the merry Spring, and in the even 
 
 426. — Wrack, destruction. 
 
366 BRITANNIA'S PASTORAIS. [Book 2. 
 
 She with her little son for pleasure given, 
 
 To tread the fring'd banks of an amorous flood, 
 
 That with her music courts a sullen wood, 440 
 
 Where ever talking with her only bliss, 
 
 That now before and then behind her is, 
 
 She stoops for flow'rs the choicest may be had, 
 
 And bringing them to please her pretty lad, 
 
 Spies in his hand some baneful flow'r or weed, 445 
 
 Whereon he 'gins to smell, perhaps to feed, 
 
 With a more earnest haste she runs unto him, 
 
 And pulls that from him which might else undo him : 
 
 So to his Caelia hasten'd Philocel, 
 
 And raught the bough away : hid it : and fell 450 
 
 To question if she broke it, or if then 
 
 An eye beheld her. Of the race of men, 
 
 Replied she, when I took it from the tree 
 
 Assure yourself was none to testify, 
 
 But what hath past since in your hand, behold, 455 
 
 A fellow running yonder o'er the wold 
 
 Is well inform'd of. Can there, love, ensue, 
 
 Tell me ! oh tell me ! any wrong to you 
 
 By what my hand hath ignorantly done ? 
 
 (Quoth fearful Cselia) Philocel ! be won 460 
 
 By these unfeigned tears, as I by thine, 
 
 To make thy greatest sorrows partly mine ! 
 
 Clear up these showers, my Sun, quoth Philocel, 
 
 The ground it needs not. Nought is so from well 
 
 450. — Raught, snatched. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 
 
 But that reward and kind entreaties may- 
 Make smooth the front of wrath, and this allay. 
 Thus wisely he suppress'd his height of woe, 
 And did resolve, since none but they did know 
 Truly who rent it, and the hateful swain 
 That lately pass'd by them upon the plain 
 (Whom well he knew did bear to him a hate, 
 Though undeserved, so inveterate 
 That to his utmost pow'r he would assay 
 To make his life have ended with that day) 
 Except in his had seen it in no hand, 
 That he against all throes of Fate would stand, 
 Acknowledge it his deed, and so afford 
 A passage to his heart for Justice' sword, 
 Rather than by her loss the world should be 
 Despis'd and scorn'd for losing such as she. 
 
 Now, with a vow of secrecy from both, 
 Enforcing mirth, he with them homewards go'th 
 And by the time the shades of mighty woods 
 Began to turn them to the eastern floods, 
 They thither got : where with undaunted heart 
 He welcomes both, and freely doth impart 
 Such dainties as a shepherd's cottage yields, 
 Ta'en from the fruitful woods and fertile fields : 
 No way distracted nor disturb'd at all. 
 And to prevent what likely might befall 
 His truest Caelia, in his apprehending, 
 Thus to all future care gave final ending : 
 Into their cup (wherein for such sweet girls 
 
368 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, [Book 2. 
 
 Nature would myriads of richest pearls 
 
 Dissolve, and by her pow'rful simples strive 495 
 
 To keep them still on earth, and still alive), 
 
 Our swain infus'd a powder which they drank : 
 
 And to a pleasant room, set on a bank 
 
 Near to his coat, where he did often use 
 
 At vacant hours to entertain his Muse, 500 
 
 Brought them and seated on a curious bed, 
 
 Till what he gave in operation sped, 
 
 And robb'd them of his sight, and him of theirs, 
 
 Whose new enlight'ning will be quench'd with tears. 
 
 The glass of Time had well-nigh spent the sand 505 
 It had to run ere with impartial hand 
 Justice must to her upright balance take him : 
 Which he (afraid it might too soon forsake him) 
 Began to use as quickly as perceive, 
 And of his love thus took his latest leave : SJO 
 
 Cselia ! thou fairest creature ever eye 
 Beheld, or yet put on mortality ! 
 Cselia, that hast but just so much of earth, 
 As makes thee capable of death ! Thou birth 
 Of every virtue, life of every good ! 515 
 W T hose chastest sports and daily taking food 
 Is imitation of the highest pow'rs 
 Who to the earth lend seasonable show'rs, 
 That it may bear, we to their altars bring 
 Things worthy their accept, our offering. 520 
 
 499. —Coat, cote, a cottage. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 3^9 
 
 I the most wretched creature ever eye 
 
 Beheld, or yet put on mortality, 
 
 Unhappy Philocel, that have of earth 
 
 Too much to give my sorrows endless birth, 
 
 The spring of sad misfortunes ; in whom lies 525 
 
 No bliss that with thy worth can sympathize, 
 
 Clouded with woe that hence will never flit, 
 
 Till death's eternal night grow one with it : 
 
 I as a dying swan that sadly sings 
 
 Her moanful dirge unto the silver springs, 530 
 
 Which careless of her song glide sleeping by 
 
 Without one murmur of kind elegy, 
 
 Now stand by thee ; and as a turtle's mate, 
 
 With lamentations inarticulate, 
 
 The near departure from her love bemoans, 535 
 Spend these my bootless sighs and killing groans. 
 Here as a man (by Justice' doom) exil'd 
 To coasts unknown, to deserts rough and wild, 
 Stand I to take my latest leave of thee : 
 Whose happy and heaven-making company 540 
 Might I enjoy in Libya's continent, 
 Were blest fruition and not banishment. 
 First of those eyes that have already ta'en 
 Their leave of me : lamps fitting for the fane 
 Of heaven's most pow'r, and which might ne'er 
 expire 545 
 But be as sacred as the vestal fire : 
 
 541. — Libya s continent, Africa. 
 VOL. I. B B 
 
37o BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Then of those plots, where half-ros'd lilies be, 
 Not one by Art but Nature's industry. 
 From which I go as one excluded from 
 The taintless flow'rs of blest Elysium : 550 
 Next from those lips I part, and may there be 
 No one that shall hereafter second me ! 
 Guiltless of any kisses but their own, 
 Their sweets but to themselves to all unknown : 
 For should our swains divulge what sweets there 
 be 555 
 Within the sea-clipt bounds of Britany, 
 We should not from invasions be exempted, 
 But with that prize would all the world be tempted. 
 Then from her heart : O no ! let that be never, 
 For if I part from thence I die for ever. 560 
 Be that the record of my love and name ! 
 Be that to me as is the Phoenix' flame ! 
 Creating still anew what Justice' doom 
 Must yield to dust and a forgotten tomb. 
 Let thy chaste love to me (as shadows run 565 
 In full extent unto the setting sun) 
 Meet with my fall ; and when that I am gone, 
 Back to thyself retire, and there grow one. 
 If to a second light thy shadow be, 
 Let him still have his ray of love from me ; 570 
 And if, as I, that likewise do decline, 
 Be mine or his, or else be his and mine. 
 But know no other, nor again be sped, 
 " She dies a virgin that but knows one bed." 
 
Songs-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 371 
 
 And now from all at once my leave I take 575 
 With this petition, that when thou shalt wake, 
 My tears already spent may serve for thine, 
 And all thy sorrows be excus'd by mine ! 
 Yea, rather than my loss should draw on hers, [580 
 (Hear, Heaven, the suit which my sad soul prefers !) 
 Let this her slumber, like Oblivion's stream, 
 Make her believe our love was but a dream ! 
 Let me be dead in her as to the earth, 
 Ere Nature lose the grace of such a birth. 
 Sleep thou, sweet soul, from all disquiet free, 585 
 And since I now beguile thy destiny, 
 Let after patience in thy breast arise, 
 To give his name a life who for- thee dies. 
 He dies for thee that worthy is to die, 
 Since now in leaving that sweet harmony 590 
 Which Nature wrought in thee, he draws not to him 
 Enough of sorrow that might straight undo him ; 
 And have for means of death his parting hence, 
 So keeping Justice still in innocence. 
 
 Here stay'd his tongue, and tears anew began : 595 
 " Parting knows more of grief than absence can." 
 And with a backward pace and ling'ring eye 
 Left, and for ever left, their company. 
 
 By this the curs'd informer of the deed [600 
 With wings of mischief (and those have most speed) 
 Unto the priests of Pan had made it known ; 
 And, though with grief enough, were thither flown 
 With strict command the officers that be 
 
 b r, 2 
 
374 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And sorrow Philocel's. Where he espies, 
 
 What he did only fear, the beauteous maid, 
 
 His woful Cselia, whom (ere night array'd 
 
 Last time the world in suit of mournful black, 665 
 
 More dark than use, as to bemoan their wrack) 
 
 He at his cottage left in sleep's soft arms 
 
 By pow'r of simples and the force of charms : 
 
 Which time had now dissolv'd, and made her know 
 
 For what intent her love had left her so. 670 
 
 She stay'd not to awake hex mate in sleep, 
 
 Nor to bemoan her fate. She scorn'd to weep, 
 
 Or have the passion that within her lies 
 
 So distant from her heart as in her eyes. 
 
 But rending of her hair, her throbbing breast 675 
 
 Beating with ruthless strokes, she onward press'd 
 
 As an enraged furious lioness, 
 
 Through uncouth treadings of the wilderness, 
 
 In hot pursuit of her late missed brood. 
 
 The name of Philocel speaks every wood, 680 
 
 And she begins to still and still her pace : 
 
 Her face deck'd anger, anger deck'd her face. 
 
 So ran distracted Hecuba along 
 
 The streets of Troy. So did the people throng 
 
 With helpless hands and heavy hearts to see 685 
 
 Their woful ruin in her progeny. 
 
 And harmless flocks of sheep that nearly fed 
 
 Upon the open plains wide scattered, 
 
 666.— Wrack, destruction. 681.— Still, slacken. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 375 
 
 Fan all afront, and gaz'd with earnest eye 
 (Not without tears) while thus she passed by. 690 
 Springs that long time before had held no drop, 
 Now welled forth and over-went the top : 
 Birds left to pay the spring their wonted vows, 
 And all forlorn sat drooping on the boughs : [695 
 Sheep, springs and birds, nay trees' unwonted groans 
 Bewail'd her chance, and forc'd it from the stones. 
 
 Thus came she to the place (where aged men, 
 Maidens and wives, and youth and childeren 
 That had but newly learnt their mothers' name, 
 Had almost spent their tears before she came,) 700 
 And those her earnest and related words 
 Threw from her breast ; and unto them affords 
 These as the means to further her pretence : 
 Receive not on your souls, by innocence [705 
 Wrong'd, lasting stains which from a sluice the sea 
 May still wash o'er, but never wash away. 
 Turn all your wraths on me : for here behold 
 The hand that tore your sacred tree of gold \ 
 These are the feet that led to that intent ; 
 Mine was th' offence, be mine the punishment. 710 
 Long hath he liv'd among you, and he knew 
 The danger imminent that would ensue ; 
 His virtuous life speaks for him, hear it then ! 
 And cast not hence the miracle of men ! 
 What now he doth is through some discontent : 715 
 Mine was the fact, be mine the punishment ! 
 
 f j\6.~Fact, crime. 
 
374 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 And sorrow Philocei's. Where he espies, 
 
 What he did only fear, the beauteous maid, 
 
 His woful Cselia, whom (ere night array'd 
 
 Last time the world in suit of mournful black, 665 
 
 More dark than use, as to bemoan their wrack) 
 
 He at his cottage left in sleep's soft arms 
 
 By pow'r of simples and the force of charms : 
 
 Which time had now dissolv'd, and made her know 
 
 For what intent her love had left her so. 670 
 
 She stay'd not to awake hej mate in sleep, 
 
 Nor to bemoan her fate. She scorn'd to weep, 
 
 Or have the passion that within her lies 
 
 So distant from her heart as in her eyes. 
 
 But rending of her hair, her throbbing breast 675 
 
 Beating with ruthless strokes, she onward press'd 
 
 As an enraged furious lioness, 
 
 Through uncouth treadings of the wilderness, 
 
 In hot pursuit of her late missed brood. 
 
 The name of Philocel speaks every wood, 680 
 
 And she begins to still and still her pace : 
 
 Her face deck'd anger, anger deck'd her face. 
 
 So ran distracted Hecuba along 
 
 The streets of Troy. So did the people throng 
 
 With helpless hands and heavy hearts to see 685 
 
 Their woful ruin in her progeny. 
 
 And harmless flocks of sheep that nearly fed 
 
 Upon the open plains wide scattered, 
 
 666. — Wrack, destruction. 
 
 6Bi.—Stz7l, slacken. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS, 375 
 
 Fan all afront, and gaz'd with earnest eye 
 (Not without tears) while thus she passed by. 690 
 Springs that long time before had held no drop, 
 Now welled forth and over- went the top : 
 Birds left to pay the spring their wonted vows, 
 And all forlorn sat drooping on the boughs : [695 
 Sheep, springs and birds, nay trees' unwonted groans: 
 Bewail'd her chance, and forc'd it from the stones. 
 
 Thus came she to the place (where aged men, 
 Maidens and wives, and youth and childeren 
 That had but newly learnt their mothers' name, 
 Had almost spent their tears before she came,) 700 
 And those her earnest and related words 
 Threw from her breast ; and unto them affords 
 These as the means to further her pretence : 
 Receive not on your souls, by innocence [705 
 Wrong'd, lasting stains which from a sluice the sea 
 May still wash o'er, but never wash away. 
 Turn all your wraths on me : for here behold 
 The hand that tore your sacred tree of gold ; 
 These are the feet that led to that intent ; 
 Mine was th' offence, be mine the punishment. 710 
 Long hath he liv'd among you, and he knew 
 The danger imminent that would ensue ; 
 His virtuous life speaks for him, hear it then ! 
 And cast not hence the miracle of men ! 
 What now he doth is through some discontent : 715 
 Mine was the fact, be mine the punishment ! 
 
 716.— Fact, crime. 
 
376 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 What certain death could never make him do 
 (With Cselia's loss), her presence forc'd him to. 
 She that could clear his greatest clouds of woes, 
 Some part of woman made him now disclose, 720 
 And show'd him all in tears : and for a while 
 Out of his heart unable to exile 
 His troubling thoughts in words to be conceiv'd ; 
 But weighing what the world should be bereav'd, 
 He of his sighs and throbs some license wan, 725 
 And to the sad spectators thus began : 
 Hasten ! O haste ! the hour's already gone, 
 Do not defer the execution ! 
 Nor make my patience suffer ought of wrong I 
 ? Tis nought to die, but to be dying long ! 730 
 Some fit of frenzy hath possess'd the maid : 
 She could not do it, though she had assay'd ; 
 No bough grows in her reach ; nor hath the tree 
 A spray so weak to yield to such as she. 
 To win her love I broke it, but unknown 735 
 And undesir'd of her ; then let her own 
 No touch of prejudice without consent. 
 Mine was the fact, be mine the punishment ! 
 
 O ! who did ever such contention see 
 Where death stood for the prize of victory ? 740 
 Where love and strife were firm and truly known, 
 And where the victor must be overthrown ? 
 Where both pursu'd, and both held equal strife 
 That life should further death, death further life. 
 
 Amazement struck the multitude ; and now 745 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 377 
 
 They knew not which way to perform their vow. 
 
 If only one should be depriv'd of breath, 
 
 They were not certain of th' offender's death ; 
 
 If both of them should die for that offence, 
 
 They certainly should murder innocence ; 750 
 
 If none did suffer for it, then there ran 
 
 Upon their heads the wrath and curse of Pan. 
 
 This much perplex'd and made them to defer 
 
 The deadly hand of th' executioner, 
 
 Till they had sent an officer to know 755 
 
 The judges' wills (and those with Fate's do go) : 
 
 Who back return'd, and thus with tears began : 
 
 The substitutes on earth of mighty Pan 
 
 Have thus decreed (although the one be free) 
 
 To clear themselves from all impunity, *j6o 
 
 If, who the offender is, no means procure, 
 
 Th' offence is certain, be their death as sure. 
 
 This is their doom (which may all plagues prevent) 
 
 To have the guilty kill the innocent. [765 
 
 Look as two little lads, their parents' treasure, 
 Under a tutor strictly kept from pleasure, 
 While they their new-given lesson closely scan, 
 Hear of a message by their father's man, 
 That one of them, but which he hath forgot, 
 Must come along and walk to some fair plot ; 770 
 Both have a hope : their careful tutor loath 
 To hinder either, or to license both, 
 Sends back the messenger that he may know 
 His master's pleasure which of them must go : 
 
378 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 While both his scholars stand alike in fear 775 
 Both of their, freedom and abiding there, 
 The servant comes and says that for that day 
 Their father wills to have them both away. 
 Such was the fear these loving souls were in 
 That time the messenger had absent been. 780 
 But far more was their joy 'twixt one another, 
 In hearing neither should outlive the other. 
 
 Now both entwin'd, because no conquest won 
 Yet either ruined, Philocel begun 
 To arm his love for death : a robe unfit 785 
 Till Hymen's saffron'd weed had usher'd it. 
 My fairest Caelia ! come ; let thou and I, 
 That long have learn'd to love, now learn to die ; 
 It is a lesson hard if we discern it, 
 Yet none is born so soon as bound to learn it. 790 
 Unpartial fate lays ope the book to us, 
 And let[s] us con it still embracing thus ; 
 We may it perfect have, and go before 
 Those that have longer time to read it o'er ; 
 And we had need begin and not delay, 795 
 For 'tis our turn to read it first to-day. 
 Help when I miss, and when thou art in doubt 
 I'll be thy prompter, and will help thee out. 
 But see how much I err : vain metaphor 
 * And elocution destinies abhor. 800 
 Could death be stay'd with words, or won with tears, 
 Or mov'd with beauty, or with unripe years, 
 Sure thou couldst do't ; this rose, this sun-like eye 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 Should not so soon be quelPd, so quickly die. 
 But we must die, my love ; not thou alone, 
 Nor only I, but both ; and yet but one. 
 Nor let us grieve ; for we are married thus, 
 And have by death what life denied us. 
 It is a comfort from him more than due ; 
 " Death severs many, but he couples few." 
 Life is a flood that keeps us from our bliss, 
 The ferryman to waft us thither is 
 Death, and none else ; the sooner we get o'er 
 Should we not thank the ferryman the more ? 
 Others entreat him for a passage hence, 
 And groan beneath their griefs and impotence, 
 Yet (merciless) he lets those longer stay, 
 And sooner takes the happy man away. 
 Some little happiness have thou and I, 
 Since we shall die before we wish to die. 
 Should we here longer live, and have our days 
 As full in number as the most of these, 
 And in them meet all pleasures may betide, 
 We gladly might have liv'd and patient died. 
 When now our fewer years, made long by cares, 
 That without age can snow down silver hairs, 
 Make all affirm which do our griefs descry 
 We patiently did live, and gladly die. 
 The difference, my love, that doth appear 
 Betwixt our fates and theirs that see us here, 
 Is only this : the high all-knowing Pow'r 
 Conceals from them, but tells us our last hour. 
 
380 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 For which to Heaven we far-far more are bound 
 
 Since in the hour of death we may be found, 
 
 By its prescience, ready for the hand 835 
 
 That shall conduct us to the holy land. 
 
 When those, from whom that hour conceal'd is, may 
 
 Even in their height of sin be ta'en away. 
 
 Besides, to us Justice a friend is known, 
 
 Which neither lets us die nor live alone. 840 
 
 That we are forc'd to it cannot be held ; 
 
 " Who fears not death, denies to be compell'd." 
 
 O that thou wert no actor in this play, 
 My sweetest Cselia ! or divorc'd away 
 From me in this : O Nature ! I confess 845 
 I cannot look upon her heaviness 
 Without betraying that infirmity 
 Which at my birth thy hand bestow'd on me. 
 Would I had died when I receiv'd my birth ! 
 Or known the grave before I knew the earth ! 850 
 Heavens I I but one life did receive from you, 
 And must so short a loan be paid with two ? 
 Cannot I die but like that brutish stem 
 Which have their best belov'd to die with them ? 
 O let her live ! some bless'd power hear my cry! 855 
 Let Cselia live and I contented die. 
 
 My Philocel (quoth she) neglect these throes I 
 Ask not for me, nor add not to my woes ! 
 Can there be any life when thou art gone ? 
 
 853. — Stem, race, nation. 
 
Song 5.] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 
 
 381 
 
 Nay, can there be but desolation ? 860 
 Art thou so cruel as to wish my stay, 
 To wait a passage at an unknown day ? 
 Or have me dwell within this vale of woe, 
 Excluded from those joys which thou shalt know? 
 Envy not me that bliss ! I will assay it, 865 
 My love deserves it, and thou canst not stay it. 
 Justice ! then take thy doom ; for we intend, 
 Except both live, no life : one love, one end. 
 
 Thus with embraces and exhorting other : [870 
 With tear-dew'd kisses that had pow'r to smother 
 Their soft and ruddy lips close join'd with either, 
 That in their deaths their souls might meet together : 
 With prayers as hopeful as sincerely good, 
 Expecting death they on the cliff's edge stood, 
 And lastly were (by one oft forcing breath) 875 
 Thrown from the rock into the arms of death. 
 
 Fair Thetis, whose command the waves obey, 
 Loathing the loss of so much worth as they, 
 Was gone before their fall ; and by her pow'r 
 The billows (merciless, us'd to devour, 880 
 And not to save,) she made to swell up high, 
 Even at the instant when the tragedy 
 Of those kind souls should end : so to receive them, 
 And keep what cruelty would fain bereave them. 
 Her hest was soon perform'd : and now they lay 885 
 Embracing on the surface of the sea, 
 
 885. — Hest, behest, command. 
 
382 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Void of all sense ; a spectacle so sad 
 
 That Thetis, nor no nymph which there she had, 
 
 Touch'd with their woes, could for a while refrain, 
 
 But from their heavenly eyes did sadly rain 890 
 
 Such show'rs of tears (so powerful, since divine) 
 
 That ever since the sea doth taste of brine. 
 
 With tears, thus to make good her first intent, 
 
 She both the lovers to her chariot hent : 
 
 Recalling life that had not clearly ta'en 895 
 
 Full leave of his or her more curious fane, 
 
 And with her praise sung by these thankful pair 
 
 Steer'd on her coursers, swift as fleeting air, 
 
 Towards her palace built beneath the seas, 
 
 Proud of her journey, but more proud of these. 900 
 
 By that time Night had newly spread her robe 
 Over our half-part of this massy globe, 
 She won that famous Isle which Jove did please 
 To honour with the holy Druides ; 
 And as the western side she stript along, 905 
 Heard, and so stay'd to hear, this heavy song : 
 
 O Heaven ! what may I hope for in this cave ? 
 
 A Grave. 
 
 But who to me this last of helps shall retch ? 
 
 A Wretch. 910 
 Shall none be by pitying so sad a wight ? 
 
 Yes : Night. 
 
 894. — Hent, took. s 903. — Isle, Angle^ea. 
 
 905. — Stript, moved rapidly. 909. — Retch, reach. 
 
Songs-] BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. 383 
 
 Small comfort can befall in heavy plight 
 
 To me, poor maid, in whose distresses be 
 
 Nor hope, nor help, nor one to pity me, 915 
 
 But a cold Grave, a Wretch, and darksome Night. 
 
 To dig that grave what fatal things appears ? 
 
 Thy Tears. 
 
 What bell shall ring me to that bed of ease ? 
 
 Rough Seas. 920 
 And who for mourners hath my Fate assign'd ? 
 
 Each Wind. 
 Can any be debarr'd from such I find ? 
 When^to my last rites gods no other send [925 
 To make my grave, for knell, or mourning friend, 
 Than mine own Tears, rough Seas, and gusts of 
 Wind. 
 
 Tears must my grave dig : but who bringeth those ? 
 
 Thy Woes. 
 
 What monument will Heaven my body spare ? 
 
 The Air. 930 
 And what the epitaph when I am gone ? 
 
 Oblivion. 
 Most miserable I, and like me none 
 Both dying, and in death, to whom is lent 
 Nor spade, nor epitaph, nor monument, 935 
 Excepting Woes, Air, and Oblivion. 
 
 The end of this gave life unto a groan, 
 As if her life and it had been but one ; 
 
384 BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS. [Book 2. 
 
 Yet she as careless of reserving either, 
 
 if possible would leave them both together. 940 
 
 It was the fair Marina, almost spent 
 
 With grief and fear of future famishment. 
 
 For (hapless chance) but the last rosy morn 
 
 The willing redbreast, flying through a thorn, 
 
 Against a prickle gor'd his tender side, 945 
 
 And in an instant so, poor creature, died. 
 
 Thetis, much mov'd with those sad notes she heard, 
 Her freeing thence to Triton soon referred ; 
 Who found the cave as soon as set on shore, 
 And by his strength removing from the door 950 
 A weighty stone, brought forth the fearful maid, 
 Which kindly led where his fair mistress stay'd, 
 Was entertain'd as well became her sort, 
 And with the rest steer'd on to Thetis' court, 
 For whose release from imminent decay 955 
 My Muse awhile will here keep holiday. 
 
 THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 THE END OF VOL. I. 
 
GETTY RESEARCH