Collected Works of Michael Drayton

by Michael Drayton

  The aged worlds descents, and genealogies;

  If, as those Druides taught, which kept the British rites, 35

  And dwelt in darksome groves, there counsailing with sprites

  (But their opinions faild, by error led awry,

  As since cleere truth hath shew’d to their posteritie)

  When these our soules by death our bodies doe forsake,

  They instantlie againe doe other bodies take; 40

  I could have wisht your spirits redoubled in my breast,

  To give my verse applause, to times eternall rest.

  Thus scarcelie said the Muse, but hovering while she hung

  Upon the Celtick wastes, the sea-nymphes loudlie sung:

  O ever-happie iles, your heads so high that beare, 45

  By Nature stronglie fenc’t, which never need to feare,

  On Neptunes watry realmes when Eolus raiseth warres,

  And every billow bounds, as though to quench the starres:

  Faire Jersey first of these heere scattred in the deepe,

  Peculiarlie that boast’st thy double-horned sheepe: 50

  Inferior nor to thee, thou Jemsey, bravelie crown’d

  With rough-imbatteld rocks, whose venom-hating ground

  The hardned emerill hath, which thou abroad doost send:

  Thou Ligon, her belov’d, and Serk, that doost attend

  Her pleasure everie howre; as Jethow, them at need,

  With phesants, fallow deere, and conies that doost feed: 56

  Yee seaven small sister iles, and Sorlings, which to see

  The halfe-sunk sea-man joyes, or whatsoe’re you be,

  From fruitfull Aurney, neere the ancient Celtick shore,

  To Ushant and the Seames, whereas those nunnes of yore 60

  Gave answers from their caves, and tooke what shapes they please:

  Ye happie ilands set within the British seas,

  With shrill and jocund shouts, th’unmeasur’d deepes awake,

  And let the gods of sea their secret bowres forsake,

  Whilst our industrious Muse great Britaine forth shall bring, 65

  Crown’d with those glorious wreathes that beautifie the spring;

  And whilst greene Thetis nymphes, with many an amorous lay

  Sing our invention safe unto her long-wisht bay.

  Upon the utmost end of Cornwalls furrowing beake,

  Where Bresan from the land the tilting waves doth breake; 70

  The shore let her transcend, the promont to discry,

  And viewe about the point th’unnumbred fowle that fly.

  Some, rising like a storme from off the troubled sand,

  Seeme in their hovering flight to shadow all the land;

  Some, sitting on the beach to prune their painted breasts, 75

  As if both earth and aire they onelie did possesse.

  Whence, climing to the cleeves, her selfe she firmlie sets

  The bourns, the brooks, the becks, the rills, the rivilets,

  Exactlie to derive; receiving in her way

  That straightened tongue of land, where, at MountMichaells Bay, 80

  Rude Neptune cutting in, a cantle forth doth take;

  And, on the other side, Havles vaster mouth doth make

  A Chersonese thereof, the corner clipping in:

  Where to th’industrious Muse the Mount doth thus begin;

  Before thou further passe, and leave this setting shore, 85

  Whose townes unto the saints that lived heere of yore,

  (Their fasting, works, and pray’rs, remaining to our shames)

  Were rear’d, and justly call’d by their peculiar names,

  The builders honour still; this due and let them have,

  As deigne to drop a teare upon each holie grave; 90

  Whose charitie and zeale, in steed of knowledge stood:

  For, surely in themselves they were right simply good.

  If, credulous too much, thereby th’olfended heaven

  In their devout intents, yet be their sinnes forgiven.

  Then from his rugged top the teares downe trickling fell; 95

  And in his passion stirr’d, againe began to tell

  Strange things, that in his daies times course had brought to pass,

  That fortie miles now sea, sometimes firme fore-land was;

  And that a forrest then, which now with him is flood,

  Whereof he first was call’d the Hoare-Rock in the Wood; 100

  Relating then how long this soile had laine forlorne,

  As that her genius now had almost her forsworne,

  And of their ancient love did utterly repent,

  Sith to destroy her selfe that fatall toole she lent

  By which th’insatiate slave her intrailes out doth draw, 105

  That thrusts his gripple hand into her golden mawe;

  And for his part doth wish, that it were in his power

  To let the ocean in, her wholly to devoure.

  Which, Hayle doth over-heare, and much doth blame his rage,

  And told him (to his teeth) hee doated with his age.

  For Hayle (a lustie nymph, bent all to amorous play,

  And having quicke recourse into the Severne Sea 112

  With Neptunes pages oft disporting in the deepe;

  One never touch’t with care; but how her selfe to keepe

  In excellent estate) doth thus againe intreate; 115

  Muse, leave the wayward Mount, to his distempred heate,

  Who nothing can produce but what doth taste of spight:

  He shew thee things of ours most worthy thy delight.

  Behold our diamonds heere, as in the quarr’s they stand,

  By Nature neatly cut, as by a skilfull hand, 120

  Who varieth them in formes, both curiouslie and oft;

  Which for shee (wanting power) produceth them too soft,

  That vertue which she could not liberallie impart,

  Shee striveth to amend by her owne proper art.

  Besides, the seaholme heere, that spreadeth all our shore, 125

  The sick consuming man so powerfull to restore:

  Whose roote th’eringo is, the reines that doth inflame

  So stronglie to performe the Cytheraean game,

  That generally approov’d, both farre and neere is sought.

  And our Main-Amber heere, and Burien trophy, thought 130

  Much wrongd, not yet preferd for wonders with the rest.

  But, the laborious Muse, upon her journey prest,

  Thus uttereth to her selfe; To guide my course aright,

  What mound or steddie mere is offered to my sight

  Upon this out-stretcht arme, whilst sayling heere at ease, 135

  Betwixt the southern waste, and the Sabrinian seas,

  I view those wanton brookes, that waxing, still doe wane;

  That scarcelie can conceive, but brought to bed againe;

  Scarce rising from the spring (that is their naturall mother)

  To growe into a streame, but buried in another. 140

  When Chore doth call her on, that wholly doth betake

  Her selfe unto the Loo; transform’d into a lake,

  Through that impatient love shee had to entertaine

  The lustfull Neptune oft; whom when his wracks restraine,

  Impatient of the wrong, impetuouslie hee raves: 145

  And in his ragefull flowe, the furious King of waves,

  Breaks foming o’re the beach, whom nothing seemes to coole,

  Till he have wrought his will on that capacious poole;

  Where Menedge, by his brookes, a Chersonese is cast,

  Widening the slender shore to ease it in the wast; 150

  A promont jutting out into the dropping south,

  That with his threatning cleeves in horrid Neptunes mouth,

  Derides him and his power; nor cares how him he greets.

  Next, Roseland (as his friend, the mightier Menedge) meets

  Great Neptun
e when he swells, and rageth at the rocks 155

  (Set out into those seas) inforcing through his shocks

  Those armes of sea, that thrust into the tinny strand,

  By their meandred creeks indenting of that land

  Whose fame by everie tongue is for her myneralls hurld,

  Neere from the mid-daies point, throughout the westerne world. 160

  Heere Vale, a livelie flood, her noble name that gives

  To Flamouth; and by whom, it famous ever lives,

  Whose entrance is from sea so intricatelie wound,

  Her haven angled so about her harbrous sound,

  That in her quiet bay a hundred ships may ride, 165

  Yet not the tallest mast, be of the tall’st decri’d;

  Her braverie to this nymph when neighbouring rivers told,

  Her mind to them againe shee brieflie doth unfold;

  Let Camell, of her course, and curious windings boast,

  In that her greatnesse raignes sole mistress of that coast 170

  Twixt Tamer and that bay, where Hayle poures forth her pride:

  And let us (nobler nymphs) upon the mid-daie side,

  Be frolick with the best. Thou Foy, before us all,

  By thine owne named towne made famous in thy fall,

  As Low, amongst us heere; a most delicious brooke,

  With all our sister nymphes, that to the noone-sted looke, 176

  Which glyding from the hills, upon the tinny ore,

  Betwixt your high-rear’d banks, resort to this our shore:

  Lov’d streames, let us exult, and thinke our selves no lesse

  Then those upon their side, the setting that possesse.

  Which, Camell over-heard: but what doth she respect 181

  Their taunts, her proper course that loosely doth neglect?

  As frantick, ever since her British Arthurs blood,

  By Mordreds murtherous hand was mingled with her flood.

  For, as that river, best might boast that conquerors breath, 185

  So sadlie shee bemoanes his too untimelie death;

  Who, after twelve proud fields against the Saxon fought,

  Yet back unto her banks by fate was lastly brought:

  As though no other place on Britaines spacious earth,

  Were worthie of his end, but where he had his birth: 190

  And carelesse ever since how shee her course doe steere,

  Thus muttreth to her selfe, in wandring here and there;

  Even in the agedst face, where beautie once did dwell,

  And nature (in the least) but seemed to excell,

  Time cannot make such waste, but something wil appeare, 195

  To shewe some little tract of delicacie there.

  Or some religious worke, in building manie a day,

  That this penurious age hath suffred to decay,

  Some lim or modell, dragd out of the ruinous mass,

  The richness will declare in glorie whilst it was; 200

  But time upon my waste committed hath such theft,

  That it of Arthur heere scarce memorie hath left:

  The nine-ston’d trophie thus whilst shee doth entertaine,

  Proude Tamer swoopes along, with such a lustie traine 204

  As fits so brave a flood two countries that divides:

  So, to increase her strength, shee from her equall sides

  Receives their severall rills; and of the Cornish kind,

  First taketh Atre in: and her not much behind

  Comes Kensey: after whom, cleere Enian in doth make,

  In Tamers roomthier bankes, their rest that scarcelie take. 210

  Then Lyner, though the while aloofe she seem’d to keepe,

  Her soveraigne when shee sees t’approach the surgefull deepe,

  To beautifie her fall her plentious tribute brings.

  This honours Tamer much: that shee whose plentious springs,

  Those proud aspyring hills, Bromwelly and his frend 215

  High Rowter, from their tops impartiallie commend

  And is by Carewes Muse, the river most renound,

  Associate should her grace to the Devonian ground,

  Which in those other brookes doth emulation breed.

  Of which, first Car comes crown’d, with oziar, segs and reed: 220

  Then Lid creeps on along, and taking Thrushel, throwes

  Her selfe amongst the rocks; and so incavern’d goes,

  That of the blessed light (from other floods) debarr’d,

  To bellowe under earth, she onelie can be heard,

  As those that view her tract, seemes strangelie to affright: 225

  So, Toovy straineth in; and Plym, that claimes by right

  Tha christning of that bay, which beares her nobler name.

  Upon the British coast, what ship yet ever came

  That not of Plymouth heares, where those brave navies lie,

  From canons thundring throats, that all the world defie? 230

  Which, to invasive spoile, when th’English list to draw,

  Have checkt Iberias pride, and held her oft in awe:

  Oft furnishing our dames, with Indias rar’st devices,

  And lent us gold, and pearle, rich silks, and daintie spices. 234

  But Tamer takes the place, and all attend her here,

  A faithfull bound to both; and two that be so neare

  For likeliness of soile, and quantitie they hold,

  Before the Roman came; whose people were of old

  Knowne by one generall name, upon this point that dwell,

  All other of this ile in wrastling that excell:

  With collars be they yokt, to prove the arme at length,

  Like bulls set head to head, with meere delyver strength:

  Or by the girdles graspt, they practise with the hip,

  The forward, backward, falx, the mare, the turne, the trip,

  When stript into their shirts, each other they invade

  Within a spacious ring, by the beholders made, 246

  According to the law. Or when the ball to throw,

  And drive it to the gole, in squadrons forth they goe:

  And to avoid the troupes (their forces that fore-lay)

  Through dikes and rivers make, in this robustious play; 250

  By which, the toiles of warre most livelie are exprest.

  But Muse, may I demaund, why these of all the rest

  (As mightie Albyons eld’st) most active are and strong?

  From Corin came it first, or from the use so long?

  Or that this fore-land lies furth’st out into his sight,

  Which spreads his vigorous flames on everie lesser light? 256

  With th’vertue of his beames, this place that doth inspire:

  Whose pregnant wombe prepar’d by his all-powerful fire,

  Being purelie hot and moist, projects that fruitfull seed,

  Which stronglie doth beget, and doth as stronglie breed: 260

  The weldisposed heaven heere prooving to the earth,

  A husband furthering fruite; a midwife helping birth.

  But whilst th’industrious Muse thus labours to relate

  Those rillets that attend proud Tamer and her state,

  A neighbourer of this nymphes, as high in fortunes grace, 265

  And whence calme Tamer trippes, cleere Towridge in that place

  Is poured from her spring; and seemes at first to flowe

  That way which Tamer straines: but as she great doth growe

  Remembreth to fore-see, what rivalls she should find

  To interrupt her course: whose so unsettled mind 270

  Ock comming in perceives, and thus doth her perswade;

  Now Neptune shield (bright nymph) thy beautie should be made

  The object of her scorne, which (for thou canst not be

  Upon the southern side so absolute as shee)

  Will awe thee in thy course. Wherefore, faire flood recoile: 275

  And where thou maist al
one be soveraigne of the soile,

  There exercise thy power, thy braveries and displaie;

  Turne Towridge, let us back to the Sabrinian sea;

  Where Thetis handmaids still in that recoursefull deepe

  With those rough gods of sea, continuall revells keepe; 280

  There maist thou live admir’d, the mistress of the lake.

  Wise Ock shee doth obey, returning, and doth take

  The Tawe; which from her fount forc’t on with amorous gales,

  And easely ambling downe through the Devonian dales,

  Brings with her Moule and Bray, her banks that gentlie bathe; 285

  Which on her daintie breast, in many a silver swathe

  Shee beares unto that bay, where Barstable beholds,

  How her beloved Tawe cleere Towridge there enfolds.

  The confluence of these brooks divulg’d in Dertmoore, bred 289

  Distrust in her sad breast, that shee, so largelie spred,

  And in this spacious shire the neer’st the center set

  Of anie place of note; that these should bravelie get

  The praise, from those that sprung out of her pearlie lap;

  Which, nourisht and bred up at her most plentious pap, 294

  No sooner taught to dade, but from their mother trip,

  And in their speedie course, strive others to out-strip.

  The Yalme, the Awne, the Aume, by spacious Dertmoore fed,

  And in the Southern sea, b’ing likewise brought to bed;

  That these were not of power to publish her desert,

  Much griev’d the ancient Moore: which understood by Dert 300

  (From all the other floods that onely takes her name,

  And as her eld’st (in right) the heire of all her fame)

  To shew her nobler spirit it greatlie doth behove.

  Deare Mother, from your breast this feare (quoth she) remove:

  Defie their utmost force: ther’s not the proudest flood, 305

  That falls betwixt the Mount and Exmore, shall make good

  Her royaltie with mine, with me nor can compare:

  I challenge any one, to answere me that dare;

  That was, before them all, predestinate to meet

  My Britaine-founding Brute, when with his puissant fleet 310

  At Totnesse first he toucht: which shall renowne my streame

  (Which now the envious world doth slander for a dreame.)

  Whose fatall flight from Greece, his fortunate arrive

  In happy Albyon heere whilst stronglie I revive, 314

  Deare Harburne at thy hands this credit let me win,

  Quoth she, that as thou hast my faithfull hand-maid bin:

  So now (my onelie brooke) assist me with thy spring,

  Whilst of the god-like Brute the storie thus I sing.