The Shorter Poems
Page 25
The true Pandora of all heauenly graces,
Diuine Elisa, sacred Emperesse:
580
Liue she for euer, and her royall P’laces
Be fild with praises of diuinest wits,
That her eternize with their heauenlie writs.
Some few beside, this sacred skill esteme,
Admirers of her glorious excellence,
585
Which being lightned with her beawties beme,
Are thereby fild with happie influence:
And lifted vp aboue the worldes gaze,
To sing with Angels her immortall praize.
But all the rest as borne of saluage brood,
590
And hauing beene with Acorns alwaies fed,
Can no whit sauour this celestiall food;
But with base thoughts are into blindnesse led,
And kept from looking on the lightsome day:
For whome I waile and weepe all that I may.
595
Eftsoones such store of teares shee forth did powre,
As if shee all to water would haue gone;
And all her sisters seeing her sad stowre,
Did weep and waile and made exceeding mone,
And all their learned instruments did breake.
600
The rest vntold no louing tongue can speake.
FINIS.
Virgils Gnat.
Long since dedicated
To the most noble and excellent Lord,
the Earle of Leicester, late
deceased.
Wrong’d, yet not daring to expresse my paine,
To you (great Lord) the causer of my care,
In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine
Vnto your selfe, that onely priuie are:
5
But if that any Oedipus vnware
Shall chaunce, through power of some diuining spright,
To reade the secrete of this riddle rare,
And know the purporte of my euill plight,
Let him rest pleased with his owne insight,
10
Ne further seeke to glose vpon the text:
For griefe enough it is to grieued wight
To feele his fault, and not be further vext.
But what so by my selfe may not be showen,
May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen.
Virgils Gnat.
We now haue playde (Augustus) wantonly,
Tuning our song vnto a tender Muse,
And like a cobweb weauing slenderly,
Haue onely playde: let thus much then excuse
5
This Gnats small Poeme, that th’whole history
Is but a iest, though enuie it abuse:
But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame,
Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name.
Hereafter, when as season more secure
10
Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee
In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure,
And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie,
The golden offspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great Ioues progenie,
15
Phœbus shall be the author of my song,
Playing on yuorie harp with siluer strong.
He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood
Of Poets Prince whether he woon beside
Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimœras blood;
20
Or in the woods of Astery abide;
Or whereas mount Parnasse, the Muses brood,
Doth his broad forhead like two homes diuide,
And the sweete waues of sounding Castaly
With liquid foote doth slide downe easily.
25
Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee
Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades,
Go too, and dauncing all in companie,
Adorne that God: and thou holie Pales,
To whome the honest care of husbandrie
30
Returneth by continuall successe,
Haue care for to pursue his footing light;
Throgh the wide woods, and groues, with green leaues dight.
Professing thee I lifted am aloft
Betwixt the forrest wide and starrie sky:
35
And thou most dread (Octauius) which oft
To learned wits giuest courage worthily,
O come (thou sacred childe) come sliding soft,
And fauour my beginnings graciously:
For not these leaues do sing that dreadfull stound,
40
When Giants bloud did staine Phlegrœan ground.
Nor how th’halfe horsy people, Centaures hight,
Fought with the bloudie Lapithaes at bord,
Nor how the East with tyranous despight
Burnt th’Attick towres, and people slew with sword;
45
Nor how mount Athos through exceeding might
Was digged downe, nor yron bands abord
The Pontick sea by their huge Nauy cast,
My volume shall renowne, so long since past.
Nor Hellespont trampled with horses feete,
50
When flocking Persians did the Greeks affray;
But my soft Muse, as for her power more meete,
Delights (with Phœbus friendly leaue) to play
An easie running verse with tender feete.
And thou (dread sacred child) to thee alway,
55
Let euerlasting lightsome glory striue,
Through the worlds endles ages to suruiue.
And let an happie roome remaine for thee
Mongst heauenly ranks, where blessed soules do rest;
And let long lasting life with ioyous glee,
60
As thy due meede that thou deseruest best,
Hereafter many yeares remembred be
Amongst good men, of whom thou oft are blest;
Liue thou for euer in all happinesse:
But let vs turne to our first businesse.
65
The fiery Sun was mounted now on hight
Vp to the heauenly towers, and shot each where
Out of his golden Charet glistering light;
And fayre Aurora with her rosie heare,
The hatefull darknes now had put to flight,
70
When as the shepheard seeing day appeare,
His little Goats gan driue out of their stalls,
To feede abroad, where pasture best befalls.
To an high mountaines top he with them went,
Where thickest grasse did cloath the open hills:
75
They now amongst the woods and thickets ment,
Now in the valleies wandring at their wills,
Spread themselues farre abroad through each descent;
Some on the soft greene grasse feeding their fills;
Some clambring through the hollow cliffes on hy,
80
Nibble the bushie shrubs, which growe thereby.
Others the vtmost boughs of trees doe crop,
And brouze the woodbine twigges, that freshly bud;
This with full bit doth catch the vtmost top
Of some soft Willow, or new growen stud;
85
This with sharpe teeth the bramble leaues doth lop,
And chaw the tender prickles in her Cud;
The whiles another high doth ouerlooke
Her owne like image in a christall brooke.
O the great happines, which shepheards haue,
90
Who so loathes not too much the poore estate,
With minde that ill vse doth before depraue,
Ne measures all things by the costly rate
Of riotise, and semblants outward braue;
No such sad cares, as wont to macerate
; 95
And rend the greedie mindes of couetous men,
Do euer creepe into the shepheards den.
Ne cares he if the fleece, which him arayes,
Be not twice steeped in Assyrian dye,
Ne glistering of golde, which vnderlayes
100
The summer beames, doe blinde his gazing eye.
Ne pictures beautie, nor the glauncing rayes
Of precious stones, whence no good commeth by;
Ne yet his cup embost with Imagery
Of Bœtus or of Alcons vanity.
105
Ne ought the whelky pearles esteemeth hee,
Which are from Indian seas brought far away:
But with pure brest from carefull sorrow free,
On the soft grasse his limbs doth oft display,
In sweete spring time, when flowres varietie
110
With sundrie colours paints the sprincled lay;
There lying all at ease, from guile or spight,
With pype of fennie reedes doth him delight.
There he, Lord of himselfe, with palme bedight,
His looser locks doth wrap in wreath of vine:
115
There his milk dropping Goats be his delight,
And fruitefull Pales, and the forrest greene,
And darkesome caues in pleasaunt vallies pight,
Wheras continuall shade is to be seene,
And where fresh springing wells, as christall neate,
120
Do alwayes flow, to quench his thirstie heate.
O who can lead then a more happie life,
Than he, that with cleane minde and heart sincere,
No greedy riches knowes nor bloudie strife,
No deadly fight of warlick fleete doth feare,
125
Ne runs in perill of foes cruell knife,
That in the sacred temples he may reare
A trophee of his glittering spoyles and treasure,
Or may abound in riches aboue measure.
Of him his God is worshipt with his sythe,
130
And not with skill of craftsman polished:
He ioyes in groues, and makes himselfe full blythe,
With sundrie flowers in wilde fieldes gathered;
Ne frankincens he from Panchœa buyth,
Sweete quiet harbours in his harmeles head,
135
And perfect pleasure buildes her ioyous bowre,
Free from sad cares, that rich mens hearts deuowre.
This all his care, this all his whole indeuour,
To this his minde and senses he doth bend,
How he may flow in quiets matchles treasour,
140
Content with any food that God doth send;
And how his limbs, resolu’d through idle leisour,
Vnto sweete sleepe he may securely lend,
In some coole shadow from the scorching heat,
The whiles his flock their chawed cuds do eate.
145
O flocks, O Faunes, and O ye pleasaunt springs
Of Tempe, where the countrey Nymphs are rife,
Through whose not costly care each shepheard sings
As merrie notes vpon his rusticke Fife,
As that Ascrœan bard, whose fame now rings
150
Through the wide world, and leads as ioyfull life;
Free from all troubles and from worldly toyle,
In which fond men doe all their dayes turmoyle.
In such delights whilst thus his carelesse time
This shepheard driues, vpleaning on his batt,
155
And on shrill reedes chaunting his rustick rime,
Hyperion throwing foorth his beames full hott,
Into the highest top of heauen gan clime,
And the world parting by an equall lott,
Did shed his whirling flames on either side,
160
As the great Ocean doth himselfe diuide.
Then gan the shepheard gather into one
His stragling Goates, and draue them to a foord,
Whose cærule streame, rombling in Pible stone,
Crept vnder mosse as greene as any goord.
165
Now had the Sun halfe heauen ouergone,
When he his heard back from that water foord,
Draue from the force of Phœbus boyling ray,
Into thick shadowes, there themselues to lay.
Soone as he them plac’d in thy sacred wood
170
(O Delian Goddesse) saw, to which of yore
Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood,
Cruell Agaue, flying vengeance sore
Of king Nictileus for the guiltie blood,
Which she with cursed hands had shed before;
175
There she halfe frantick hauing slaine her sonne,
Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne.
Here also playing on the grassy greene,
Woodgods, and Satyres, and swift Dryades,
With many Fairies oft were dauncing seene.
180
Not so much did Dan Orpheus represse,
The streames of Hebrus with his songs I weene,
As that faire troupe of woodie Goddesses
Staied thee, (O Peneus) powring foorth to thee,
From cheereful lookes great mirth and gladsome glee.
185
The verie nature of the place, resounding
With gentle murmure of the breathing ayre,
A pleasant bowre with all delight abounding
In the fresh shadowe did for them prepayre,
To rest their limbs with wearines redounding.
190
For first the high Palme trees with braunches faire,
Out of the lowly vallies did arise,
And high shoote vp their heads into the skyes.
And them amongst the wicked Lotos grew,
Wicked, for holding guilefully away
195
Vlysses men, whom rapt with sweetenes new,
Taking to hoste, it quite from him did stay,
And eke those trees, in whose transformed hew
The Sunnes sad daughters waylde the rash decay
Of Phaeton, whose limbs with lightening rent,
200
They gathering vp, with sweete teares did lament.
And that same tree, in which Demophoon,
By his disloyalty lamented sore,
Eternall hurte left vnto many one:
Whom als accompanied the Oke, of yore
205
Through fatall charmes transformd to such an one:
The Oke, whose Acornes were our foode, before
That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne,
Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sowne.
Here also grew the rougher rinded Pine,
210
The great Argoan ships braue ornament
Whom golden Fleece did make an heauenly signe;
Which coueting, with his high tops extent,
To make the mountaines touch the starres diuine,