Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

  And in the fields (like beasts) their mangled bodies left.

  As to his further praise, how for that dangerous fight

  The great Armenian King made noble Beuis Knight:

  And hauing raised power, Damasciss to invade,

  The Generall of his force this English Heroë made.

  Then, how faire Iosian gaue him Arundell his steed,

  And Morglay his good sword, in many a valiant deed

  Which manfully he tri’d. Next, in a Buskind straine,

  Sung how himselfe he bore vpon Damascus Plaine

  (That dreadful battell) where, with Bradamond he fought;

  And with his sword and steed such earthlie wonders wrought,

  As euen amongst his foes him admiration won;

  Incountring in the throng with mightie Radison;

  And lopping off his armes, th’imperiall standard tooke.

  At whose prodigious fall, the conquered Foe for sooke

  The Field; where, in one day so many Peeres they lost,

  So braue Commaunders, and so absolute an host,

  As to the humbled earth tooke proud Damascus downe,

  Then tributarie made to the Armenian Crowne.

  And how at his returne, the King (for seruice done,

  The honor to his raigne, and to Armenia won)

  In mariage to this Earle the Princess Iosian gaue;

  As into what distresse him Fortune after draue,

  To great Damascus sent Ambassador againe;

  When, in reuenge of theirs, before by Beuis slaine

  (And now, at his returne, for that he so despis’d

  Those Idols vnto whom they dailie sacrifiz’d:

  Which he to peeces hew’d and scattred in the dust)

  They, rising, him by strength into a Dungeon thrust;

  In whose blacke bottom, long two Serpents had remain’d

  (Bred in the common sewre that all the Cittie drain’d)

  Empoysning with their smell; which seiz’d him for their pray:

  With whom in strugling long (besmeard with blood and clay)

  He rent their squallid chaps, and from the prison scap’t.

  As how adultrous Ioure, the King of Mambrant, rap’t

  Faire Iosian his deere Loue, his noble sword and steed:

  Which afterward by craft, he in a Palmers weed

  Recouerd, and with him from Mambrant bare away.

  And with two Lions how hee held a desperat fray,

  Assayling him at once, that fiercelie on him flew:

  Which first he tam’d with wounds, then by the necks them drew,

  And gainst the hardned earth their iawes and shoulders burst;

  And that (Golia-like) great Ascupart inforc’t

  To serue him for a slaue, and by his horse to runne.

  At Colein as againe the glorie that he wonne

  On that huge Dragon, like the Country to destroy;

  Whose sting strooke like a Lance: whose venom did destroy

  As doth a generall plague: his scales like shields of brass;

  His bodie, when hee moou’d, like some vnweeldie mass,

  Euen brus’d the solid Earth. Which boldlie hauing song,

  With all the sundry turnes that might thereto belong,

  Whilst yet shee shapes her course how he came back to show

  What powers he got abroad, how them he did bestow;

  In England heere againe, how he by dint of sword

  Vnto his ancient lands and titles was restor’d,

  New-forrest cry’d enough: and Walthans with the Bere,

  Both bad her hold her peace; for they no more would heare.

  And for shee was a flood, her fellowes nought would say;

  But slipping to their banks, slid silentlie away.

  When as the pliant Muse, with faire and euen flight,

  Betwixt her siluer wings is wafted to the Wight:

  That Ile, which iutting out into the Sea so farre,

  Her ofspring traineth vp in exercise of warre;

  Those Pyrats to put backe that oft purloine her trade,

  Or Spaniards, or the French attempting to invade.

  Of all the Southerne Iles shee holds the highest place,

  And euermore hath been the great’st in Britaines grace:

  Not one of all her Nymphs her Soueraigne fauoureth thus,

  Imbraced in the armes of old Oceanus.

  For none of her account, so neere her bosome stand,

  Twixt Penwiths furthest point, and Goodwins queachy sand,

  Both for her seat and soyle, that farre before the other,

  Most iustlie may account great Britaine for her Mother.

  A finer fleece then hers not Lemsters selfe can boast,

  Nor Newport for her Mart, o’r-matcht by any Coast.

  To these, the gentle South, with kisses smooth and soft,

  Doth in her bosome breathe, and seemes to court her oft.

  Besides, her little Rills, her in-lands that doe feed,

  Which with their lauish streames doe furnish euerie need:

  And Meads, that with their fine soft grassie towels stand

  To wipe away the drops and moisture from her hand.

  And to the North, betwixt the fore-land and the firme,

  Shee hath that narrow Sea, which we the Solent tearme:

  Where those rough irefull Tides, as in her Straits they meet,

  With boystrous shocks and rores each other rudely greet:

  Which fiercelie when they charge, and sadlie make retrear,

  Vpon the bulwarkt Forts of Hurst and Calsheot beat,

  Then to South-hampton runne: which by her shores supplide

  (As Portsmouth by her strength) doth vilifie their pride;

  Both, Roads that with our best may boldlie hold their plea,

  Nor Plimmouths selfe hath borne more brauer ships then they;

  That from their anchoring Bayes haue tranailed to finde

  Large Chinas wealthie Realms, and view’d the either Inde,

  The pearlie rich Peru; and with as prosperous fate,

  Haue borne their ful-spred sailes vpon the streames of Plate:

  Whose pleasant harbors oft the Sea-mans hope renue,

  To rigge his late-craz’d Barke, to spred a wanton clue;

  Where they with lustie Sack, and mirthfull Sailers songs,

  Defie their passed stormes, and laugh at Neptunes wrongs:

  The danger quite forgot wherein they were of late;

  Who halfe so merrie now as Maister and his Mate?

  And victualling againe, with braue and man-like minds

  To Sea-ward cast their eyes, and pray for happie winds.

  But, partlie by the floods sent thither from the shore,

  And Hands that are set the bordring coast before:

  As one amongst the rest, a braue and lustie Dame

  Call’d Portsey, whence that Bay of Portsmouth hath her name:

  By her, two little Iles, her handmaids (which compar’d

  With those within the Poole, for deftness not out-dar’d)

  The greater Haling hight: and fairest though by much,

  Yet Thorney verie well, but some-what rough in tuch.

  Whose beauties farre and neere divulged by report,

  And by the Trytons told in mightie Neptunes Court,

  Old Proteus hath been knowne to leaue his finny Heard,

  And in their sight to spunge his foame-bespawled beard.

  The Sea-gods, which about the watry kingdome keepe,

  Haue often for their sakes abandoned the Deepe;

  That Thetis many a time to Neptune hath complaind,

  How for those wanton Nymphes her Ladies were disdain’d:

  And there arose such rut th’vnrulie rout among,

  That soone the noyse thereof through all the Ocean rong.

  When Portsey, weighing well the ill to her might grow,

  In that their mightie stirres might be her ouer-throw,

  Shee strongli
e straightneth-in the entrance to her Bay;

  That, of their haunt debard, and shut out to the Sea

  (Each small conceiued wrong helps on distempred rage.)

  No counsell could be heard their choler to aswage:

  When euery one suspects the next that is in place

  To be the onely cause and meanes of his disgrace.

  Some comming from the East, some from the setting Sunne,

  The liquid Mountaines still together mainlie runne;

  Waue woundeth waue againe; and billow, billow gores:

  And topsie turuie so, flie tumbling to the shores.

  From hence the Solent Sea, as some men thought, might stand

  Amongst those things, which wee call Wonders of our Land.

  When toghing vp that streame, so negligent of fame,

  As till this verie day shee yet conceales her name;

  By Bert and Waltham both, that’s equally imbrac’t,

  And lastlie, at her fall, by Tichfield highlie grac’t.

  Whence, from old Windsor hill, and from the aged Stone,

  The Muse those Countries sees, which call her to be gone.

  The Forests tooke their leaue: Bere, Chute, and Buckholt, bid

  Adieu; so Wolmer, and so Ashholt, kindly did.

  And Pamber shooke her head, as grieued at the hart;

  When farre vpon her way, and ready to depart,

  As now the wandring Muse so sadlie went along,

  To her last Farewell, thus, the goodlie Forests song.

  Deere Muse, to plead our right, whom time at last hath brought,

  Which else forlorne had lyen, and banisht euerie thought,

  When thou ascend’st the hills, and from their rising shrouds

  Our sisters shalt commaund, whose tops once toucht the clouds;

  Old Arden when thou meet’st, or doost faire Sherwood see,

  Tell them, that as they waste, so euerie day doe wee:

  Wish them, we of our griefes may be each others heirs;

  Let them lament our fall, and we will mourne for theirs.

  Then turning from the South which lies in publique view,

  The Muse an oblique course doth seriously pursue:

  And pointing to the Plaines, she thither takes her way;

  For which, to gaine her breath shee makes a little stay.

  POLY-OLBION: THE THIRD SONG

  The Argument

  In this third Song, great threatnings are,

  And tending all to Nymphish warre.

  Old Wansdike vttereth words of hate,

  Deprauing Stonendges estate.

  Cleere Avon and faire Willy striue,

  Each pleading her prerogatiue.

  The Plaine the Forrests doth disdaine:

  The Forrests raile vpon the Plaine.

  The Muse then seekes the Shires extreames,

  To find the Fountaine of great Tames;

  Falls downe with Avon, and discries

  Both Bathes and Bristowes braueries:

  Then viewes the Sommersetian soyle;

  Through Marshes, Mines, and Mores doth toyle,

  To Avalon to Arthurs Graue,

  Sadlie bemoan’d of Ochy Caue.

  Then with delight shee brauelie brings

  The Princely Parret from her Springs:

  Preparing for the learned Plea

  (The next Song) in the Seuerne Sea.

  VP with the iocund Larke (Too long we take our rest.)

  Whilst yet the blushing Dawne out of the cheerfull East

  Is vshering forth the Day to light the Muse along:

  Whose most delightfull touch, and sweetness of her Song,

  Shall force the lustie Swaines out of the Country-townes,

  To lead the louing Girles in daunces to the Downes.

  The Nymphs, in Selwoods shades and Bradens woods that bee,

  Their Oaken wreathes, ô Muse, shall offervp to thee.

  And when thou shap’st thy course tow’rds where the soile is rank,

  The Sommer setian mayds, by swelling Sabryns bank

  Shall strewe the waies with flowers (where thou art comming on)

  Brought from the Marshie-grounds by aged Avalon.

  From Sarum thus we set, remou’d from whence it stood

  By Avon to reside, her deerest loued Flood:

  Where her imperious Fane her former seate disdaines,

  And proudly ouer-tops the spacious neighboring Plaines.

  What pleasures hath this Ile, of vs esteem’d most deere,

  In any place, but poore vnto the plentie heere?

  The chaulkie Chiltern fields, nor Kelmarsh selfe compares

  With Euerley for store and swiftnes of her Hares:

  A horse of greater speed, nor yet a righter hound,

  Not any where twixt Kent and Calidon is found.

  Nor yet the leuell South can shewe a smoother Race,

  Whereas the ballow Nag out-strips the winds in chase;

  As famous in the West for matches yeerelie uide,

  As Garterley, possest of all the Northen pride:

  And on his match, as much the Western horseman layes,

  As the rank-riding Scots vpon their Gallowayes.

  And as the Westernesoyle as sound a Horse doth breed,

  As doth the land that lies betwixt the Trent and Tweed:

  No Hunter, so, but finds the breeding of the West,

  The onely kind of Hounds, for mouth and nostrill best;

  That cold doth sildome fret, nor heat doth ouer-haile;

  As standing in the Flight, as pleasant on the Traile;

  Free hunting, easely checkt, and louing euery Chase;

  Straight running, hard, and tough, of reasonable pase:

  Not heauie, as that hound which Lancashire doth breed;

  Nor as the Northerne kind, so light and hot of speed,

  Vpon the cleerer Chase, or on the foyled Traine,

  Doth make the sweetest cry, in Wood-land, or on Plaine.

  Where she, of all the Plaines of Britaine, that doth beare

  The name to be the first (renowned euerie where)

  Hath worthily obtaind that Stonendge there should stand:

  Shee, first of Plaines; and that, first Wonder of the Land.

  Shee Wansdike also winnes, by whom shee is imbrac’t,

  That in his aged armes doth gird her ampler wast:

  Who (for a mightie Mound sith long he did remaine

  Betwixt the Mercians rule, and the West-Saxons raigne,

  And therefore of his place him selfe hee proudly bare)

  Had very oft beene heard with Stonendge to compare;

  Whom for a paltry Ditch, when Stonendge pleasd t’vpbraid,

  The old man taking heart, thus to that Trophy said;

  Dull heape, that thus thy head aboue the rest doost reare,

  Precisely yet not know’st who first did place thee there;

  But Traytor basely turn’d to Merlins skill doost flie,

  And with his Magiques doost thy Makers truth belie:

  Conspirator with Time, now growen so meane and poore,

  Comparing these his spirits with those that went before;

  Yet rather art content thy Builders praise to lose,

  Then passed greatnes should thy present wants disclose.

  Ill did those mightie men to trust thee with their storie,

  That hast forgot their names, who rear’d thee for their glorie:

  For all their wondrous cost, thou that hast seru’d them so,

  What tis to trust to Tombes, by thee we easely know.

  In these invectiues thus whilst Wansdick doth complaine,

  He interrupted is by that imperious Plaine,

  To hear two crystall Floods to court her, that apply

  Themselues, which should be seene most gracious in her eye.

  First, Willy boasts her selfe more worthy then the other,

  And better farre deriu’d: as hauing to her mother

  Faire Selwood, and to bri
ng vp Diuer in her traine;

  Which, when the envious soile would from her course restraine,

  A mile creeps vnder earth, as flying all resort:

  And how cleere Nader waits attendance in her Court;

  And therefore claimes of right the Plaine should hold her deere,

  Which giues that Towne the name; which likewise names the Shire.

  The Easterne Avon vaunts, and doth vpon her take

  To be the onelie child of shadefull Sauernake,

  As Ambrayes ancient flood; her selfe and to enstile

  The Stonendges best-lov’d, first wonder of the Ile;

  And what (in her behoofe) might any want supply,

  Shee vaunts the goodlie seat of famous Saliburie;

  Where meeting prettie Bourne, with many a kind embrace,

  Betwixt their crystall armes they clip that loued place.

  Report, as lately rais’d, vnto these Riuers came,

  That Bathes cleere Avon (waxt imperious through her fame)

  Their daliance should deride; and that by her disdaine,

  Some other smaller Brooks, belonging to the Plaine,

  A question seem’d to make, whereas the Shire sent forth

  Two Avons, which should be the flood of greatest worth;

  This streame, which to the South the Celtick Sea doth get,

  Or that which from the North saluteth Somerset.

  This when these Riuers heard, that euen but lately stroue

  Which best did loue the Plaine, or had the Plaines best loue,

  They straight themselues combine: for Willy wiselie waide,

  That should her Avon lose the day for want of aide,

  If one so great and neere were ouer prest with power,

  The Foe (shee beeing lesse) would quicklie her deuour.

  As two contentious Kings, that on each little ,

  Defiances send forth, proclaiming open warre,

  Vntill some other Realme, that on their frontires lies,

  Be hazarded againe by other enemies,

  Doe then betwixt themselues to composition fall,

  To countercheck that sword, else like to conquer all:

  So falls it with these Floods, that deadlie hate doe beare.

  And whilst on either part strong preparations were,

  It greatly was suppos’d strange strife would there haue been,

  Had not the goodly Plaine (plac’t equally betweene)

  Fore-warn’d them to desist, and off their purpose brake:

  When in behalfe of Plaines thus (gloriously) she spake;

  Away yee barb’rous Woods; How euer yee be plac’t

  On Mountaines, or in Dales, or happily be grac’t

  With floods, or marshie fels, with pasture, or with earth

  By nature made to till, that by the yeerely birth