Colin Clouts come home againe. By Ed. Spencer

COLIN CLOVTS Come home againe .

By Ed. Spencer .

LONDON Printed for William Ponsonbie . 1595.

TO THE RIGHT worthy and noble Knight Sir Walter Raleigh , Captaine of her Maiesties Guard , Lord Wardein of the Stanneries , and Lieutenant of the Countie of Cornwall .

SIR , that you may see that I am not alwaies ydle as yee thinke , though not greatly well occupied , nor altogither vndutifull , though not precisely officious , I make you present of this simple pastorall , vnworthie of your higher conceipt for the meanesse of the stile , but agreeing with the truth in circumstance and matter . The which I humbly beseech you to accept in part of paiment of the infinite debt in which I acknowledge my selfe bounden vnto you , for your singular fauours and sundrie good turnes shewed to me at my late being in England , and with your good countenance protect against the malice of euill mouthes , which are alwaies wide open to carpe at and misconstrue my simple meaning .

I pray continually for your happinesse .

From my house of Kilcolman , the 27. of December . 1591. Yours euer humbly . Ed. Sp.

COLIN CLOVTS come home againe . THe shepheards boy ( best knowne by that name ) That after Tityrus first sung his lay , Laies of sweet loue , without rebuke or blame , Sate ( as his custome was ) vpon a day , Charming his oaten pipe vnto his peres , The shepheard swaines that did about him play : Who all the while with greedie listfull eares , Did stand astonisht at his curious skill , Like hartlesse deare , dismayd with thunders sound . At last when as he piped had his fill , He rested him : and sitting then around , One of those groomes ( a iolly groome was he , As euer piped on an oaten reed , And lou'd this shepheard dearest in degree , Hight Hobbinol ) gan thus to him areed . Colin my liefe , my life , how great a losse Had all the shepheards nation by thy lacke ? And I poore swaine of many greatest crosse : That sith thy Muse first since thy turning backe Was heard to sound as she was wont on hye , Hast made vs all so blessed and so blythe . Whilest thou wast hence , all dead in dole did lie : The woods were heard to waile full many a sythe , And all their birds with silence to complaine : The fields with faded flowers did seem to mourne , And all their flocks from feeding to refraine : The running waters wept for thy returne , And all their fish with languour did lament : But now both woods and fields , and floods reviue , Sith thou art come , their cause of meriment , That vs late dead , hast made againe aliue : But were it not too painfull to repeat The passed fortunes , which to thee befell In thy late voyage , we thee would entreat , Now at thy leisure them to vs to tell . To whom the shepheard gently answered thus , Hobbin thou temptest me to that I couet : For of good passed newly to discus , By dubble vsurie doth twise renew it . And since I saw that Angels blessed eie , Her worlds bright sun , her heauens fairest light , My mind full of my thoughts satietie , Doth feed on sweet contentment of that sight : Since that same day in nought I take delight . Ne feeling haue in any earthly pleasure , But in remembrance of that glorious bright , My lifes sole blisse , my hearts eternall threasure . Wake then my pipe , my sleepie Muse awake , Till I haue told her praises lasting long : Hobbin desires , thou maist it not forsake , Harke then ye iolly shepheards to my song . With that they all gan throng about him neare , With hungrie eares to heare his harmonie : The whiles their flocks deuoyd of dangers feare , Did round about them feed at libertie . One day ( quoth he ) I sat , ( as was my trade ) Vnder the foote of Mole that mountaine hore , Keeping my sheepe amongst the cooly shade , Of the greene alders by the Mullaes shore : There a straunge shepheard chaunst to find me out , Whether allured with my pipes delight , Whose pleasing sound yshrilled far about , Or thither led by chaunce , I know not right : Whom when I asked from what place he came , And how he hight , himselfe he did ycleepe , The shepheard of the Ocean by name , And said he came far from the main-sea deepe . He sitting me beside in that same shade , Prouoked me to plaie some pleasant fit , And when he heard the musicke which I made , He found himselfe full greatly pleasd at it : Yet aemuling my pipe , he tooke in hond My pipe before that aemuled of many , And plaid theron ; ( for well that skill he cond ) Himselfe as skilfull in that art as any . He pip'd , I sung ; and when he sung , I piped , By chaunge of turnes , each making other mery , Neither enuying other , nor enuied , So piped we , vntill we both were weary . There interrupting him , a bonie swaine , That Cuddy hight , him thus atweene bespake : And should it not thy readie course restraine , I would request thee Colin , for my sake , To tell what thou didst sing , when he did plaie . For well I weene it worth recounting was , Whether it were some hymne , or morall laie , Or carol made to praise thy loued lasse . Nor of my loue , nor of my losse ( quoth he ) I then did sing , as then occasion fell : For loue had me forlorne , forlorne of me , That made me in that desart chose to dwell . But of my riuer Bregogs loue I soong , Which to the shiny Mulla he did beare , And yet doth beare , and euer will , so long As water doth within his bancks appeare . Of fellowship ( said then that bony Boy ) Record to vs that louely lay againe : The staie whereof , shall nought these eares annoy , Who all that Colin makes , do couet faine . Heare then ( quoth he ) the tenor of my tale , In sort as I it to that shepheard told : No leasing new , nor Grandams fable stale , But auncient truth confirm'd with credence old . Old father Mole , ( Mole hight that mountain gray That walls the Northside of Armulla dale ) He had a daughter fresh as floure of May , Which gaue that name vnto that pleasant vale ; Mulla the daughter of old Mole , so hight The Nimph , which of that water course has charge , That springing out of Mole , doth run downe right To Butteuant , where spreading forth at large , It giueth name vnto that auncient Cittie , Which Kilnemullah cleped is of old : Whose ragged ruines breed great ruth and pittie , To trauailers , which it from far behold . Full faine she lou'd , and was belou'd full faine , Of her owne brother riuer , Bregog hight , So hight because of this deceitfull traine , Which he with Mulla wrought to win delight . But her old sire more carefull of her good , And meaning her much better to preferre , Did thinke to match her with the neighbour flood , Which Allo hight , Broad water called farre : And wrought so well with his continuall paine , That he that riuer for his daughter wonne : The dowre agreed , the day assigned plaine , The place appointed where it should be doone . Nath lesse the Nymph her former liking held ; For loue will not be drawne , but must be ledde , And Bregog did so well her fancie weld , That her good will he got her first to wedde . But for her father sitting still on hie , Did warily still watch which way she went , And eke from far obseru'd with iealous eie , Which way his course the wanton Bregog bent , Him to deceiue for all his watchfull ward , The wily louer did deuise this slight : First into many parts his streame he shar'd , That whilest the one was watcht , the other might Passe vnespide to meete her by the way ; And then besides , those little streames so broken He vnder ground so closely did conuay , That of their passage doth appeare no token , Till they into the Mullaes water slide . So secretly did he his loue enioy : Yet not so secret , but it was descride , And told her father by a shepheards boy . Who wondrous wroth for that so foule despight , In great auenge did roll downe from his hill Huge mightie stones , the which encomber might His passage , and his water-courses spill . So of a Riuer , which he was of old , He none was made , but scattred all to nought , And lost emong those rocks into him rold , Did lose his name : so deare his loue he bought . Which hauing said , him Thestylis bespake , Now by my life this was a mery lay : Worthie of Colin selfe , that did it make . But read now eke of friendship I thee pray , What dittie did that other shepheard sing ? For I do couet most the same to heare , As men vse most to couet forreine thing . That shall I eke ( quoth he ) to you declare . His song was all a lamentable lay , Of great vnkindnesse , and of vsage hard , Of Cynthia the Ladie of the sea , Which from her presence faultlesse him debard . And euer and anon with singulfs rife , He cryed out , to make his vndersong Ah my loues queene , and goddesse of my life , Who shall me pittie , when thou doest me wrong ? Then gan a gentle bonylasse to speake , That Marin hight , Right well he sure did plaine : That could great Cynthiaes sore displeasure breake , And moue to take him to her grace againe . But tell on further Colin , as befell Twixt him and thee , that thee did hence dissuade . When thus our pipes we both had wearied well , ( Quoth he ) and each an end of singing made , He gan to cast great lyking to my lore , And great dislyking to my lucklesse lot : That banisht had my selfe , like wight forlore , Into that waste , where I was quite forgot . The which to leaue , thenceforth he counseld mee , Vnmeet for man , in whom was ought regardfull And wend with him , his Cynthia to see : Whose grace was great , & bounty most rewardfull . Besides her peerlesse skill in making well And all the ornaments of wondrous wit , Such as all womankynd did far excell : Such as the world admyr'd and praised it : So what with hope of good , and hate of ill , He me perswaded forth with him to fare , Nought tooke I with me , but mine oaten quill : Small needments else need shepheard to prepare . So to the sea we came ; the sea ? that is A world of waters heaped vpon hie , Rolling like mountaines in wide wildernesse , Horrible , hideous , roaring with hoarse crie . And is the sea ( quoth Coridon ) so fearfull ? Fearful much more ( quoth he ) than hart can fear : Thousand wyld beasts with deep mouthes gaping direfull Therin stil wait poore passengers to teare . Who life doth loath , and longs death to behold , Before he die , alreadie dead with feare , And yet would liue with heart halfe stonie cold , Let him to sea , and he shall see it there . And yet as ghastly dreadfull , as it seemes , Bold men presuming life for gaine to sell , Dare tempt that gulf , and in those wandring stremes Seek waies vnknowne , waies leading down to hell . For as we stood there waiting on the strond , Behold an huge great vessell to vs came , Dauncing vpon the waters back to lond , As if it scornd the daunger of the same ; Yet was it but a wooden frame and fraile , Glewed togither with some subtile matter , Yet had it armes and wings , and head and taile , And life to moue it selfe vpon the water . Strange thing , how bold & swift the monster was , That neither car'd for wynd , nor haile , nor raine , Nor swelling waues , but thorough them did passe So proudly , that she made them roare againe . The same aboord vs gently did receaue , And without harme vs farre away did beare , So farre that land our mother vs did leaue , And nought but sea and heauen to vs appeare . Then hartlesse quite and full of inward feare , That shepheard I besought to me to tell , Vnder what skie , or in what world we were , In which I saw no liuing people dwell . Who me recomforting all that he might , Told me that that same was the Regiment Of a great shepheardesse , that Cynthia hight , His liege his Ladie , and his lifes Regent . If then ( quoth I ) a shepheardesse she bee , Where be the flockes and heards , which she doth keep ? And where may I the hills and pastures see , On which she vseth for to feed her sheepe ? These be the hills ( quoth he ) the surges hie , On which faire Cynthia her heards doth feed : Her heards be thousand fishes with their frie , Which in the bosome of the billowes breed . Of them the shepheard which hath charge in chief , Is Triton blowing loud his wreathed horne : At sound whereof , they all for their relief Wend too and fro at euening and at morne . And Proteus eke with him does driue his heard Of stinking Seales and Porcpisces together , With hoary head and deawy dropping beard , Compelling them which way he list , and whether . And I among the rest of many least , Haue in the Ocean charge to me assignd : Where I will liue or die at her beheast , And serue and honour her with faithfull mind . Besides an hundred Nymphs all heauenly borne , And of immortall race , doo still attend To wash faire Cynthiaes sheep , when they be shorne , And fold them vp , when they haue made an end . Those be the shepheards which my Cynthia serue , At sea , beside a thousand moe at land : For land and sea my Cynthia doth deserue To haue in her commandement at hand . Thereat I wondred much , till wondring more And more , at length we land far off descryde : Which sight much gladed me ; for much afore I feard , least land we neuer should haue eyde : Thereto our ship her course directly bent , As if the way she perfectly had knowne . We Lunday passe ; by that same name is ment An Island , which the first to west was showne . From thence another world of land we kend , Floting amid the sea in ieopardie , And round about with mightie white rocks hemd , Against the seas encroching crueltie . Those same the shepheard told me , were the fields In which dame Cynthia her landheards fed , Faire goodly fields , then which Armulla yields None fairer , nor more fruitfull to be red . The first to which we nigh approched , was An high headland thrust far into the sea , Like to an horne , whereof the name it has , Yet seemed to be a goodly pleasant lea : There did a loftie mount at first vs greet , Which did a stately heape of stones vpreare , That seemd amid the surges for to fleet , Much greater then that frame , which vs did beare : There did our ship her fruitfull wombe vnlade , And put vs all a shore on Cynthias land . What land is that thou meanst ( then Cuddy sayd ) And is there other , then whereon we stand ? Ah Cuddy ( then quoth Colin ) thous a fon , That hast not seene least part of natures worke : Much more there is vnkend , then thou doest kon , And much more that does from mens knowledge lurke . For that same land much larger is then this , And other men and beasts and birds doth feed : There fruitfull corne , faire trees , fresh herbage is And all things else that liuing creatures need . Besides most goodly riuers there appeare , No whit inferiour to thy Funchins praise , Or vnto Allo or to Mulla cleare : Nought hast thou foolish boy seene in thy daies , But if that land be there ( quoth he ) as here , And is theyr heauen likewise there all one ? And if like heauen , be heauenly graces there , Like as in this same world where we do wone ? Both heauen and heauenly graces do much more ( Quoth he ) abound in that same land , then this . For there all happie peace and plenteous store Conspire in one to make contented blisse : No wayling there nor wretchednesse is heard , No bloodie issues nor no leprosies , No griesly famine , nor no raging sweard , No nightly bodrags , nor no hue and cries ; The shepheards there abroad may safely lie , On hills and downes , withouten dread or daunger : No rauenous wolues the good mans hope destroy , Nor outlawes fell affray the forest raunger . There learned arts do florish in great honor , And Poets wits are had in peerlesse price : Religion hath lay powre to rest vpon her , Aduancing vertue and suppressing vice . For end , all good , all grace there freely growes , Had people grace it gratefully to vse : For God his gifts there plenteously bestowes , But gracelesse men them greatly do abuse . But say on further , then said Corylas , The rest of thine aduentures , that betyded . Foorth on our voyage we by land did passe , ( Quoth he ) as that same shepheard still vs guyded , Vntill that we to Cynthiaes presence came : Whose glorie greater then my simple thought , I found much greater then the former fame ; Such greatnes I cannot compare to ought : But if I her like ought on earth might read , I would her lyken to a crowne of lillies , Vpon a virgin brydes adorned head , With Roses light and Goolds and Daffadillies ; Or like the circlet of a Turtle true , In which all colours of the rainbow bee ; Or like faire Phebes garlond shining new , In which all pure perfection one may see . But vaine it is to thinke by paragone Of earthly things , to iudge of things diuine : Her power , her mercy , and her wisedome , none Can deeme , but who the Godhead can define . Why then do I base shepheard bold and blind , Presume the things so sacred to prophane ? More fit it is t' adore with humble mind , The image of the heauens in shape humane . With that Alexis broke his tale asunder , Saying , By wondring at thy Cynthiaes praise : Colin , thy selfe thou makest vs more to wonder , And her vpraising , doest thy selfe vpraise . But let vs heare what grace she shewed thee , And how that shepheard strange , thy cause aduanced ? The shepheard of the Ocean ( quoth he ) Vnto that Goddesse grace me first enhanced : And to mine oaten pipe enclin'd her eare , That she thenceforth therein gan take delight , And it desir'd at timely houres to heare , All were my notes but rude and roughly dight , For not by measure of her owne great mynd , And wondrous worth she mott my simple song , But ioyd that country shepheard ought could fynd Worth harkening to , emongst that learned throng . Why ? ( said Alexis then ) what needeth shee That is so great a shepheardesse her selfe And hath so many shepheards in her fee , To heare thee sing , a simple silly Elfe ? Or be the shepheards which do serue her laesie ? That they list not their mery pipes applie , Or be their pipes vntunable and craesie , That they cannot her honour worthilie ? Ah nay ( said Colin ) neither so , nor so , For better shepheards be not vnder skie , Nor better hable , when they list to blow , Their pipes aloud , her name to glorifie . There is good Harpalus now woxen aged , In faithfull seruice of faire Cynthia , And there is a Corydon though meanly waged , Yet hablest wit of most I know this day . And there is sad Aleyon bent to mourne , Though fit to frame an euerlasting dittie , Whose gentle spright for Daphnes death doth tourn Sweet layes of loue to endlesse plaints of pittie . Ah pensiue boy pursue that braue conceipt , In thy sweet Eglantine of Meriflure , Lift vp thy notes vnto their wonted height , That may thy Muse and mates to mirth allure . There eke is Palin worthie of great praise , Albe he enuie at my rustick quill : And there is pleasing Alcon , could he raise His tunes from laies to matter of more skill . And there is old Palemon free from spight , Whose carefull pipe may make the hearer rew : Yet he himselfe may rewed be more right , That sung so long vntill quite hoarse he grew . And there is Alabaster throughly taught , In all this skill , though knowen yet to few , Yet were he knowne to Cynthia as he ought , His Eliseïs would be redde anew . Who liues that can match that heroick song , Which he hath of that mightie Princesse made ? O dreaded Dread , do not thy selfe that wrong , To let thy fame lie so in hidden shade : But call it forth , O call him forth to thee , To end thy glorie which he hath begun : That when he finisht hath as it should be , No brauer Poeme can be vnder Sun . Nor Po nor Tyburs swans so much renowned , Nor all the brood of Greece so highly praised , Can match that Muse when it with bayes is crowned , And to the pitch of her perfection raised . And there is a new shepheard late vp sprong , The which doth all afore him far surpasse : Appearing well in that well tuned song , Which late he sung vnto a scornfull lasse . Yet doth his trembling Muse but lowly flie , As daring not too rashly mount on hight , And doth her tender plumes as yet but trie , In loues soft laies and looser thoughts delight . Then rouze thy feathers quickly Daniell , And to what course thou please thy selfe aduance : But most me seemes , thy accent will excell , In Tragick plaints and passionate mischance . And there that shepheard of the Ocean is , That spends his wit in loues consuming smart : Full sweetly tempred is that Muse of his That can empierce a Princes mightie hart . There also is ( ah no , he is not now ) But since I said he is , he quite is gone , Amyntas quite is gone and lies full low , Hauing his Amaryllis left to mone . Helpe , O ye shepheards helpe ye all in this , Helpe Amaryllis this her losse to mourne : Her losse is yours , your losse Amyntas is , Amyntas floure of shepheards pride forlorne : He whilest he liued was the noblest swaine , That euer piped in an oaten quill : Both did he other , which could pipe , maintaine , And eke could pipe himselfe with passing skill . And there though last not least is Action , A gentler shepheard may no where be found : Whose Muse full of high thoughts inuention , Doth like himselfe Heroically sound . All these , and many others mo remaine , Now after Astrofell is dead and gone . But while as Astrofell did liue and raine , Amongst all these was none his Paragone , All these do florish in their sundry kynd , And do their Cynthia immortall make : Yet found I lyking in her royall mynd , Not for my skill , but for that shepheards sake . Then spake a louely lasse , hight Lucida , Shepheard , enough of shepheards thou hast told : Which fauour thee , and honour Cynthia , But of so many Nymphs which she doth hold In her retinew , thou hast nothing sayd , That seems , with none of them thou fauor foundest , Or art ingratefull to each gentle mayd , That none of all their due deserts resoundest . Ah far be it ( quoth Colin Clout ) fro me , That I of gentle Mayds should ill deserue : For that my selfe I do professe to be Vassall to one , whom all my dayes I serue . The beame of beautie sparkled from aboue , The floure of vertue and pure chastitie : The blossome of sweet ioy and perfect loue , The pearle of peerlesse grace and modestie , To her my thoughts I daily dedicate , To her my heart I nightly martyrize : To her my loue I lowly do prostrate , To her my life I wholly sacrifice , My thought , my heart , my loue , my life is shee : And I hers euer onely , euer one : One euer I all vowed hers to bee , One euer I , and others neuer none . Then thus Melissa said ; Thrise happie Mayd , Whom thou doest so enforce to deifie : That woods , and hills , and valleyes , thou hast made , Her name to eccho vnto heauen hie . But say , who else vouchsafed thee of grace ? They all ( quoth he ) me graced goodly well , That all I praise , but in the highest place , Vriana , sister vnto Astrofell , In whose braue mynd as in a golden cofer , All heauenly gifts and riches locked are : More rich then pearles of Ynde , or gold of Opher , And in her sex more wonderfull and rare . Ne lesse praise worthie I Theana read , Whose goodly beames though they be ouer dight With mourning stole of carefull wydow head , Yet through that darksome vale do glister bright . She is the well of bountie and braue mynd , Excelling most in glorie and great light : She is the ornament of womankind , And Courts chief garlond with all vertues dight . Therefore great Cynthia her in chiefest grace , Doth hold , and next vnto her selfe aduance , Well worthie she of so honourable place : For her great worth and noble gouernance . Ne lesse praise worthie is her sister deare , Faire Marïan , the Muses onely darling : Whose beautie shyneth as the morning cleare , With siluer deaw vpon the roses pearling . Ne lesse praise worthie is Mansilia , Best knowne by bearing vp great Cynthiaes traine : That same is she to whom Daphnaida Vpon her neeces death I did complaine . She is the paterne of true womanhead , And onely mirrhor of feminitie : Worthie next after Cynthia to tread , As she is next her in nobilitie . Ne lesse praise worthie Galathea seemes , Then best of all that honourable crew , Faire Galathea with bright shining beames , Inflaming feeble eyes that her do view . She there then waited vpon Cynthia , Yet there is not her won , but here with vs About the borders of our rich Coshma , Now made of Maa the Nymph delitious . Ne lesse praisworthie faire Neaera is , Neaera ours , not theirs , though there she be , For of the famous Shure , the Nymph she is , For high desert , aduaunst to that degree . She is the blosome of grace and curtesie , Adorned with all honourable parts : She is the braunch of true nobilitie , Belou'd of high and low with faithfull harts . Ne lesse praisworthie Stella do I read , Though nought my praises of her needed arre , Whom verse of noblest shepheard lately dead Hath prais'd and rais'd aboue each other starre . Ne lesse praisworthie are the sisters three , The honor of the noble familie : Of which I meanest boast my selfe to be , And most that vnto them I am so nie . Phyllis , Charillis , and sweet Amaryllis , Phyllis the faire , is eldest of the three : The next to her , is bountifull Charillis . But th' youngest is the highest in degree . Phyllis the floure of rare perfection , Faire spreading forth her leaues with fresh delight , That with their beauties amorous reflexion , Bereaue of sence each rash beholders sight . But sweet Charillis is the Paragone Of peerlesse price , and ornament of praise , Admyr'd of all , yet enuied of none , Through the myld temperance of her goodly raies . Thrise happie do I hold thee noble swaine , The which art of so rich a spoile possest , And it embracing deare without disdaine , Hast sole possession in so chaste a brest : Of all the shepheards daughters which there bee , And yet there be the fairest vnder skie , Or that elsewhere I euer yet did see . A fairer Nymph yet neuer saw mine eie : She is the pride and primrose of the rest , Made by the maker selfe to be admired : And like a goodly beacon high addrest , That is with sparks of heauenle beautie fired . But Amaryllis , whether fortunate , Or else vnfortunate may I aread , That freed is from Cupids yoke by fate , Since which he doth new bands aduenture dread . Shepheard what euer thou hast heard to be In this or that praysd diuersly apart , In her thou maist them all assembled see . And seald vp in the threasure of her hart , Ne thee lesse worthie gentle Flauia , For thy chaste life and vertue I esteeme , Ne thee lesse worthie curteous Candida , For thy true loue and loyaltie I deeme . Besides yet many mo that Cynthia serue , Right noble Nymphs , and high to be commended , But if I all should praise as they deserue , This sun would faile me ere I halfe had ended . Therefore in closure of a thankfull mynd , I deeme it best to hold eternally , Their bounteous deeds and noble fauours shrynd , Then by discourse them to indignifie . So hauing said , Aglaura him bespake : Colin , well worthie were those goodly fauours Bestowd on thee , that so of them doest make . And them requitest with thy thankfull labours . But of great Cynthiaes goodnesse and high grace , Finish the storie which thou hast begunne . More each ( quoth he ) it is in such a case , How to begin , then know how to haue donne . For euerie gift and euerie goodly meed , Which she on me bestowd ; demaunds a day , And euerie day , in which she did a deed , Demaunds a yeare it duly to display . Her words were like a streame of honny fleeting , The which doth softly trickle from the hiue : Hable to melt the hearers heart vnweeting , And eke to make the dead againe aliue . Her deeds were like great glusters of ripe grapes , Which load the bunches of the fruitfull vine : Offring to fall into each mouth that gapes , And fill the same with store of timely wine . Her lookes were like beames of the morning Sun , Forth looking through the windowes of the East : When first the fleecie cattell haue begun Vpon the perled grasse to make their feast . Her thoughts are like the fume of Franckincence , Which from a golden Censer forth doth rise : And throwing forth sweet odours mounts fro thence In rolling globes vp to the vauted skies . There she beholds with high aspiring thought , The cradle of her owne creation : Emongst the seats of Angels heauenly wrought , Much like an Angell in all forme and fashion . Colin ( said Cuddy then ) thou hast forgot Thy selfe , me seemes , too much , to mount so hie : Such loftie flight , base shepheard seemeth not , From flocks and fields , to Angels and to skie . True ( answered he ) but her great excellence , Lifts me aboue the measure of my might : That being fild with furious insolence , I feele my selfe like one yrapt in spright . For when I thinke of her , as oft I ought , Then want I words to speake it fitly forth : And when I speake of her what I haue thought , I cannot thinke according to her worth . Yet will I thinke of her , yet will I speake , So long as life my limbs doth hold together , And when as death these vitall bands shall breake , Her name recorded I will leaue for euer . Her name in euery tree I will endosse , That as the trees do grow , her name may grow : And in the ground each where will it engrosse , And fill with stones , that all men may it know . The speaking woods and murmuring waters fall , Her name I le teach in knowen termes to frame : And eke my lambs when for their dams they call , I le teach to call for Cynthia by name . And long while after I am dead and rotten : Amongst the shepheards daughters dancing rownd , My layes made of her shall not be forgotten . But sung by them with flowry gyrlonds crownd . And ye , who so ye be , that shall surviue : When as ye heare her memory renewed , Be witnesse of her bountie here aliue , Which she to Colin her poore shepheard shewed . Much was the whole assembly of those heards , Moov'd at his speech , so feelingly he spake : And stood awhile astonisht at his words , Till Thestylis at last their silence brake , Saying , Why Colin , since thou foundst such grace With Cynthia and all her noble crew : Why didst thou euer leaue that happie place , In which such wealth might vnto thee accrew ? And back returnedst to this barrein soyle , Where cold and care and penury do dwell : Here to keep sheepe , with hunger and with toyle , Most wretched he , that is and cannot tell . Happie indeed ( said Colin ) I him hold , That may that blessed presence still enioy , Of fortune and of enuy vncomptrold , Which still are wont most happie states t'annoy : But I by that which little while I prooued : Some part of those enormities did see , The which in Court continually hooued , And followd those which happie seemd to bee . Therefore I silly man , whose former dayes Had in rude fields bene altogether spent , Darest not aduenture such vnknowen wayes , Nor trust the guile of fortunes blandishment , But rather chose back to my sheep to tourne , Whose vtmost hardnesse I before had tryde , Then hauing learnd repentance late , to mourne Emongst those wretches which I there descryde . Shepheard ( said Thestylis ) it seemes of spight Thou speakest thus gainst their felicitie , Which thou enuiest , rather then of right That ought in them blameworthie thou doest spie . Cause haue I none ( quoth he ) of cancred will To quite them ill , that me demeand so well : But selfe-regard of priuate good or ill , Moues me of each , so as I found , to tell And eke to warne yong shepheards wandring wit , Which through report of that liues painted blisse , Abandon quiet home , to seeke for it , And leaue their lambes to losse misled amisse . For sooth to say , it is no sort of life , For shepheard fit to lead in that same place , Where each one seeks with malice and with strife , To thrust downe other into foule disgrace , Himselfe to raise : and he doth soonest rise That best can handle his deceitfull wit , In subtil shifts , and finest sleights deuise , Either by slaundring his well deemed name , Through leasings lewd , and fained forgerie : Or else by breeding him some blot of blame , By creeping close into his secrecie ; To which him needs , a guilefull hollow hart , Masked with faire dissembling curtesie , A filed toung furnisht with tearmes of art , No art of schoole , but Courtiers schoolery . For arts of schoole haue there small countenance , Counted but toyes to busie ydle braines , And there professours find small maintenance , But to be instruments of others gaines . Ne is there place for any gentle wit , Vnlesse to please , it selfe it can applie : But shouldred is , or out of doore quite shit , As base , or blunt , vnmeet for melodie . For each mans worth is measured by his weed , As harts by hornes or asses by their eares : Yet asses been not all whose eares exceed , Nor yet all harts , that hornes the highest beares . For highest lookes haue not the highest mynd , Nor haughtie words most full of highest thoughts : But are like bladders blowen vp with wynd , That being prickt do vanish into noughts , Euen such is all their vaunted vanitie , Nought else but smoke , that fumeth soone away , Such is their glorie that in simple eie Seeme greatest , when their garments are most gay . So they themselues for praise of fooles do sell , And all their wealth for painting on a wall ; With price whereof , they buy a golden bell , And purchace highest rowmes in bowre and hall : Whiles single Truth and simple honestie Do wander vp and downe despys'd of all ; Their plaine attire such glorious gallantry Disdaines so much , that none them in doth call . Ah Colin ( then said Hobbinol ) the blame Which thou imputest , is too generall , As if not any gentle wit of name , Nor honest mynd might there be found at all . For well I wot , sith I my selfe was there , To wait on Lobbin ( Lobbin well thou knewest ) Full many worrhie ones then waiting were , As euer else in Princes Court thou vewest . Of which , among you many yet remaine , Whose names I cannot readily now ghesse : Those that poore Sutors papers do retaine , And those that skill of medicine professe . And those that do to Cynthia expound , The ledden of straunge languages in charge : For Cynthia doth in sciences abound , And giues to their professors stipends large . Therefore vniustly thou doest wyte them all , For that which thou mislikedst in a few . Blame is ( quoth he ) more blamelesse generall . Then that which priuate errours doth pursew : For well I wot , that there amongst them bee Full many persons of right worthie parts , Both for report of spotlesse honestie , And for profession of all learned arts , Whose praise hereby no whit impaired is , Though blame do light on those that faultie bee , For all the rest do most-what far amis , And yet their owne misfaring will not see : For either they be puffed vp with pride , Or fraught with enuie that their galls do swell , Or they their dayes to ydlenesse diuide , Or drownded lie in pleasures wastefull well , In which like Moldwarps nousling still they lurke , Vnmyndfull of chiefe parts of manlinesse , And do themselues for want of other worke , Vaine votaries of laesie loue professe , Whose seruice high so basely they ensew , That Cupid selfe of them ashamed is , And mustring all his men in Venus vew , Denies them quite for seruitors of his . And is loue then ( said Corylas ) once knowne In Court , and his sweet lore professed there , I weened sure he was our God alone : And only woond in fields and forests here , Not so ( quoth he ) loue most aboundeth there . For all the walls and windows there are writ , All full of loue , and loue , and loue my deare , And all their talke and studie is of it . Ne any there doth braue or valiant seeme , Vnlesse that some gay Mistresse badge he beares : Ne any one himselfe doth ought esteeme , Vnlesse he swim in loue vp to the eares . But they of loue and of his sacred lere , ( As it should be ) all otherwise deuise , Then we poore shepheards are accustomd here , And him do sue and serue all otherwise . For with lewd speeches and licentious deeds , His mightie mysteries they do prophane , And vse his ydle name to other needs , But as a complement for courting vaine . So him they do not serue as they professe , But make him serue to them for sordid vses , Ah my dread Lord , that doest liege hearts possesse , Auenge thy selfe on them for their abuses . But we poore shepheards whether rightly so , Or through our rudenesse into errour led : Do make religion how we rashly go , To serue that God , that is so greatly dred ; For him the greatest of the Gods we deeme , Borne without Syre or couples of one kynd , For Venus selfe doth soly couples seeme , Both male and female through commixture ioynd . So pure and spotlesse Cupid forth she brought , And in the gardens of Adonis nurst : Where growing he , his owne perfection wrought , And shortly was of all the Gods the first . Then got he bow and shafts of gold and lead , In which so fell and puissant he grew , That Ioue himselfe his powre began to dread , And taking vp to heauen , him godded new . From thence he shootes his arrowes euery where Into the world , at randon as he will , On vs fraile men , his wretched vassals here , Like as himselfe vs pleaseth , saue or spill . So we him worship , so we him adore With humble hearts to heauen vplifted hie , That to true loues he may vs euermore Preferre , and of their grace vs dignifie : Ne is there shepheard , ne yet shepheards swaine , What euer feeds in forest or in field , That dare with euil deed or leasing vaine Blaspheme his powre , or termes vnworthie yield . Shepheard it seemes that some celestiall rage Of loue ( quoth Cuddy ) is breath'd into thy brest , That powreth forth these oracles so sage , Of that high powre , wherewith thou art possest . But neuer wist I till this present day Albe of loue I alwayes humbly deemed , That he was such an one , as thou doest say , And so religiously to be esteemed . Well may it seeme by this thy deep insight , That of that God the Priest thou shouldest bee : So well thou wot'st the mysterie of his might , As if his godhead thou didst present see . Of loues perfection perfectly to speake , Or of his nature rightly to define , Indeed ( said Colin ) passeth reasons reach , And needs his priest t' expresse his powre diuine . For long before the world he was y'bore And bred aboue in Venus bosome deare : For by his powre the world was made of yore , And all that therein wondrous doth appeare . For how should else things so far from attone And so great enemies as of them bee , Be euer drawne together into one , And taught in such accordance to agree . Through him the cold began to couet heat , And water fire ; the light to mount on hie , And th' heauie downe to peize ; the hungry t'eat And voydnesse to seeke full satietie . So being former foes , they wexed friends , And gan by litle learne to loue each other : So being knit , they brought forth other kynds Out of the fruitfull wombe of their great mother . Then first gan heauen out of darknesse dread For to appeare , and brought forth chearfull day : Next gan the earth to shew her naked head , Out of deep waters which her drownd alway . And shortly after euerie liuing wight , Crept forth like wormes out of her slimie nature , Soone as on them the Suns like giuing light , Had powred kindly heat and formall feature , Thenceforth they gan each one his like to loue , And like himselfe desire for to beget , The Lyon chose his mate , the Turtle Doue Her deare , the Dolphin his owne Dolphinet , But man that had the sparke of reasons might , More then the rest to rule his passion : Chose for his loue the fairest in his sight , Like as himselfe was fairest by creation . For beautie is the bayt which with delight Doth man allure , for to enlarge his kynd , Beautie the burning lamp of heauens light , Darting her beames into each feeble mynd : Against whose powre , nor God nor man can fynd , Defence ; ne ward the daunger of the wound , But being hurt , seeke to be medicynd Of her that first did stir that mortall stownd . Then do they cry and call to loue apace , With praiers lowd importuning the skie , Whence he them heares , & when he list shew grace , Does graunt them grace that otherwise would die . So loue is Lord of all the world by right , And rules their creatures by his powrfull saw : All being made the vassalls of his might , Through secret sence which therto doth them draw . Thus ought all louers of their lord to deeme : And with chaste heart to honor him alway : But who so else doth otherwise esteeme , Are outlawes , and his lore do disobay . For their desire is base , and doth not merit , The name of loue , but of disloyall lust : Ne mongst true louers they shall place inherit , But as Exuls out of his court be thrust . So hauing said , Melissa spake at will , Colin , thou now full deeply hast divynd : Of loue and beautie and with wondrous skill , Hast Cupid selfe depainted in his kynd . To thee are all true louers greatly bound , That doest their cause so mightily defend : But most , all wemen are thy debtors found , That doest their bountie still so much commend . That ill ( said Hobbinol ) they him requite , For hauing loued euer one most deare : He is repayd with scorne and foule despite , That yrkes each gentle heart which it doth heare . Indeed ( said Lucid ) I haue often heard Faire Rosalind of diuers fowly blamed : For being to that swaine too cruell hard , That her bright glorie else hath much defamed . But who can tell what cause had that faire Mayd To vse him so that vsed her so well : Or who with blame can iustly her vpbrayd , For louing not ? for who can loue compell . And sooth to say , it is foolhardie thing , Rashly to wyten creatures so diuine , For demigods they be and first did spring From heauen , though graft in frailnesse feminine . And well I wote , that oft I heard it spoken , How one that fairest Helene did reuile : Through iudgement of the Gods to been ywroken Lost both his eyes and so remaynd long while , Till he recanted had his wicked rimes : And made amends to her with treble praise , Beware therefore , ye groomes , I read betimes , How rashly blame of Rosalind ye raise . Ah shepheards ( then said Colin ) ye ne weet How great a guilt vpon your heads ye draw : To make so bold a doome with words vnmeet , Of thing celestiall which ye neuer saw . For she is not like as the other crew Of shepheards daughters which emongst you bee , But of diuine regard and heauenly hew , Excelling all that euer ye did see . Not then to her that scorned thing so base , But to my selfe the blame that lookt so hie : So hie her thoughts as she her selfe haue place , And loath each lowly thing with loftie eie . Yet so much grace let her vouchsafe to grant To simple swaine , sith her I may not loue : Yet that I may her honour paravant , And praise her worth , though far my wit aboue . Such grace shall be some guerdon for the griefe , And long affliction which I haue endured : Such grace sometimes shall giue me some reliefe , And ease of paine which cannot be recured . And ye my fellow shepheards which do see And heare the languours of my too long dying , Vnto the world for euer witnesse bee , That hers I die , nought to the world denying , This simple trophe of her great conquest . So hauing ended , he from ground did rise , And after him vprose eke all the rest : All loth to part , but that the glooming skies , Warnd them to draw their bleating flocks to rest . FINIS .

ASTROPHEL .

A Pastorall Elegie vpon the death of the most Noble and valorous Knight , Sir Philip Sidney .

Dedicated To the most beautifull and vertuous Ladie , the Countesse of Essex .

Astrophel . SHepheards that wont on pipes of oaten reed , Oft times to plaine your loues concealed smart : And with your piteous layes haue learnd to breed Compassion in a countrey lasses hart . Hearken ye gentle shepheards to my song , And place my dolefull plaint your plaints emong . To you alone I sing this mournfull verse , The mournfulst verse that euer man heard tell : To you whose softened hearts it may empierse , With dolours dart for death of Astrophel . To you I sing and to none other wight , For well I wot my rymes bene rudely dight . Yet as they been , if any nycer wit Shall hap to heare , or couet them to read : Thinke he , that such are for such ones most fit , Made not to please the liuing but the dead . And if in him found pity euer place , Let him be moov'd to pity such a case . A Gentle Shepheard borne in Arcady , Of gentlest race that euer shepheard bore : About the grassie bancks of Haemony , Did keepe his sheep , his litle stock and store . Full carefully he kept them day and night , In fairest fields , and Astrophel he hight . Young Astrophel the pride of shepheards praise , Young Astrophel the rusticke lasses loue : Far passing all the pastors of his daies , In all that seemly shepheard might behoue . In one thing onely fayling of the best , That he was not so happie as the rest . For from the time that first the Nymph his mother Him forth did bring , and taught her lambs to feed : A sclender swaine excelling far each other , In comely shape , like her that did him breed . He grew vp fast in goodnesse and in grace , And doubly faire wox both in mynd and face . Which daily more and more he did augment , With gentle vsage and demeanure myld : That all mens hearts with secret rauishment He stole away , and weetingly beguyld . Ne spight it selfe that all good things doth spill , Found ought in him , that she could say was ill . His sports were faire , his ioyance innocent , Sweet without sowre , and honny without gall : And he himselfe seemd made for meriment , Merily masking both in bowre and hall . There was no pleasure nor delightfull play , When Astrophel so euer was away . For he could pipe and daunce , and caroll sweet , Emongst the shepheards in their shearing feast : As Somers larke that with her song doth greet , The dawning day forth comming from the East . And layes of loue he also could compose , Thrise happie she , whom he to praise did chose . Full many Maydens often did him woo , Them to vouchsafe emongst his rimes to name , Or make for them as he was wont to doo , For her that did his heart with loue inflame . For which they promised to dight for him , Gay chapelets of flowers and gyrlonds trim . And many a Nymph both of the wood and brooke , Soone as his oaten pipe began to shrill : Both christall wells and shadie groues forsooke , To heare the charmes of his enchanting skill . And brought him presents , flowers if it were prime , Or mellow fruit if it were haruest time . But he for none of them did care a whit , Yet wood Gods for them oft sighed sore : Ne for their gifts vnworthie of his wit , Yet not vnworthie of the countries store . For one alone he cared , for one he sight , His lifes desire , and his deare loues delight . Stella the Faire , the fairest star in skie , As faire as Venus or the fairest faire : A fairer star saw neuer liuing eie , Shot her sharp pointed beames through purest aire . Her he did loue , her he alone did honor , His thoughts , his rimes , his songs were all vpon her . To her he vowd the seruice of his daies , On her he spent the riches of his wit : For her he made hymnes of immortall praise , Of onely her he sung , he thought , he writ . Her , and but her of loue he worthie deemed , For all the rest but litle he esteemed . Ne her with ydle words alone he wowed , And verses vaine ( yet verses are not vaine ) But with braue deeds to her sole seruice vowed , And bold atchieuements her did entertaine . For both in deeds and words he nourtred was , Both wise and hardie ( too hardie alas ) In wrestling nimble , and in renning swift , In shooting steddie , and in swimming strong : Well made to strike , to throw , to leape , to lift , And all the sports that shepheards are emong . In euery one he vanquisht euery one , He vanquisht all , and vanquisht was of none . Besides , in hunting such felicitie , Or rather infelicitie he found : That euery field and forest far away , He sought , where saluage beasts do most abound . No beast so saluage but he could it kill , No chace so hard , but he therein had skill . Such skill matcht with such courage as he had , Did prick him foorth with proud desire of praise : To seek abroad , of daunger nought y'drad , His mistresse name , and his owne fame to raise . What need perill to be sought abroad , Since round about vs , it doth make aboad ? It fortuned as he , that perilous game In forreine soyle pursued far away : Into a forest wide , and waste he came Where store he heard to be of saluage pray . So wide a forest and so waste as this , Nor famous Ardeyn , nor fowle Arlo is . There his welwouen toyles and subtil traines , He laid the brutish nation to enwrap : So well he wrought with practise and with paines , That he of them great troups did soone entrap . Full happie man ( misweening much ) was hee , So rich a spoile within his power to see . Eftsoones all heedlesse of his dearest hale , Full greedily into the heard he thrust : To slaughter them , and worke their finall bale , Least that his toyle should of their troups be brust . Wide wounds emongst them many one he made , Now with his sharp borespear , now with his blade . His care was all how he them all might kill , That none might scape ( so partiall vnto none ) Ill mynd so much to mynd anothers ill , As to become vnmyndfull of his owne . But pardon that vnto the cruell skies , That from himselfe to them withdrew his eies . So as he rag'd emongst that beastly rout , A cruell beast of most accursed brood : Vpon him turnd ( despeyre makes cowards stout ) And with fell tooth accustomed to blood , Launched his thigh with so mischieuous might , That it both bone and muscles ryued quight . So deadly was the dint and deep the wound , And so huge streames of blood thereout did flow : That he endured not the direfull stound , But on the cold deare earth himselfe did throw . The whiles the captiue heard his nets did rend , And hauing none to let , to wood did wend. Ah where were ye this while his shepheard peares , To whom aliue was nought so deare as hee : And ye faire Mayds the matches of his yeares , Which in his grace did boast you most to bee ? Ah where were ye , when he of you had need , To stop his wound that wondrously did bleed ? Ah wretched boy the shape of drery head , And sad ensample of mans suddein end : Full litle faileth but thou shalt be dead , Vnpitied , vnplaynd , of foe or frend . Whilest none is nigh , thine eylids vp to close , And kisse thy lips like faded leaues of rose . A sort of shepheards sewing of the chace , As they the forest raunged on a day : By fate or fortune came vnto the place , Where as the lucklesse boy yet bleeding lay . Yet bleeding lay , and yet would still haue bled , Had not good hap those shepheards thether led . They stopt his wound ( too late to stop it was ) And in their armes then softly did him reare : Tho ( as he wild ) vnto his loued lasse , His dearest loue him dolefully did beare . The dolefulst beare that euer man did see , Was Astrophel , but dearest vnto mee . She when she saw her loue in such a plight , With crudled blood and filthie gore deformed : That wont to be with flowers and gyrlonds dight , And her deare fauours dearly well adorned Her face , the fairest face , that eye mote see , She likewise did deforme like him to bee . Her yellow locks that shone so bright and long , As Sunny beames in fairest somers day : She fiersly tore , and with outragious wrong From her red cheeks the roses rent away . And her faire brest the threasury of ioy , She spoyld thereof , and filled with annoy . His palled face impictured with death , She bathed oft with teares and dried oft : And with sweet kisses suckt the wasting breath , Out of his lips like lillies pale and soft . And oft she cald to him , who answerd nought , But onely by his lookes did tell his thought . The rest of her impatient regret , And piteous mone the which she for him made : No toong can tell , nor any forth can set , But he whose heart like sorrow did inuade . At last when paine his vitall powres had spent , His wasted life her weary lodge forwent . Which when she saw , she staied not a whit , But after him did make vntimely haste : Forth with her ghost out of her corps did flit , And followed her make like Turtle chaste . To proue that death their hearts cannot diuide , Which liuing were in loue so firmly tide . The Gods which all things see , this same beheld , And pittying this paire of louers trew : Transformed them there lying on the field , Into one flowre that is both red and blew . It first growes red , and then to blew doth fade , Like Astrophel , which thereinto was made . And in the midst thereof a star appeares , As fairly formd as any star in skyes : Resembling Stella in her freshest yeares , Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes , And all the day it standeth full of deow , Which is the teares , that from her eyes did flow . That hearbe of some , Starlight is cald by name , Of others Penthia , though not so well : But thou where euer thou doest finde the same , From this day forth do call it Astrophel . And when so euer thou it vp doest take , Do pluck it softly for that shepheards sake . Hereof when tydings far abroad did passe , The shepheards all which loued him full deare : And sure full deare of all he loued was , Did thether flock to see what they did heare . And when that pitteous spectacle they vewed , The same with bitter teares they all bedewed . And euery one did make exceeding mone , With inward anguish and great griefe opprest : And euery one did weep and waile , and mone , And meanes deviz'd to shew his sorrow best . That from that houre since first on grassie greene , Shepheards kept sheep , was not like mourning seen . But first his sister that Clorinda hight , The gentlest shepheardesse that liues this day : And most resembling both in shape and spright Her brother deare , began this dolefull lay . Which least I marre the sweetnesse of the vearse , In sort as she it sung , I will rehearse . AY me , to whom shall I my case complaine , That may compassion my impatient griefe ? Or where shall I vnfold my inward paine , That my enriuen heart may find reliefe ? Shall I vnto the heauenly powres it show ? Or vnto earthly men that dwell below ? To heauens ? ah they alas the authors were , And workers of my vnremedied wo : For they foresee what to vs happens here , And they foresaw , yet suffred this be so . From them comes good , from them comes also il , That which they made , who can them warne to spill . To men ? ah they alas like wretched bee , And subiect to the heauens ordinance : Bound to abide what euer they decree , Their best redresse , is their best sufferance . How then can they like wetched comfort mee , The which no lesse , need comforted to bee ? Then to my selfe will I my sorrow mourne , Sith none aliue like sorrowfull remaines : And to my selfe my plaints shall back retourne , To pay their vsury with doubled paines . The woods , the hills , the riuers shall resound The mournfull accent of my sorrowes ground . Woods , hills and riuers , now are desolate , Sith he is gone the which them all did grace : And all the fields do waile their widow state , Sith death their fairest flowre did late deface . The fairest flowre in field that euer grew , Was Astrophel ; that was , we all may rew . What cruell hand of cursed foe vnknowne , Hath cropt the stalke which bore so faire a flowre ? Vntimely cropt , before it well were growne , And cleane defaced in vntimely howre . Great losse to all that euer him see , Great losse to all , but greatest losse to mee . Breake now your gyrlonds , O ye shepheards lasses , Sith the faire flowre , which them adornd , is gon : The flowre , which them adornd , is gone to ashes , Neuer againe let lasse put gyrlond on . Instead of gyrlond , weare sad Cypres nowe , And bitter Elder , broken from the bowe . Ne euer sing the loue-layes which he made , Who euer made such layes of loue as hee ? Ne euer read the riddles , which he sayd Vnto yourselues , to make you mery glee . Your mery glee is now laid all abed , Your mery maker now alasse is dead . Death the deuourer of all worlds delight , Hath robbed you and rest fro me my ioy : Both you and me , and all the world he quight Hath robd of ioyance , and lest sad annoy . Ioy of the world , and shepheards pride was hee , Shepheards hope neuer like againe to see . Oh death that hast vs of such riches rest , Tell vs at least , what hast thou with it done ? What is become of him whose flowre here left Is but the shadow of his likenesse gone . Scarse like the shadow of that which he was , Nought like , but that he like a shade did pas . But that immortall spirit , which was deckt With all the dowries of celestiall grace : By soueraine choyce from th' heuenly quires select , And lineally deriv'd from Angels race , O what is now of it become aread . Ay me , can so diuine a thing be dead ? Ah no : it is not dead , ne can it die , But liues for aie , in blisfull Paradise : Where like a new-borne babe it soft doth lie , In bed of lillies wrapt in tender wise . And compast all about with roses sweet , And daintie violets from head to feet . There thousand birds all of celestiall brood , To him do sweetly caroll day and night : And with straunge notes , of him well vnderstood , Lull him a sleep in Angelick delight ; Whilest in sweet dreame to him presented bee Immortall beauties , which no eye may see . But he them sees and takes exceeding pleasure Of their diuine aspects , appearing plaine , And kindling loue in him aboue all measure , Sweet loue still ioyous , neuer feeling paine . For what so goodly forme he there doth see , He may enioy from iealous rancor free . There liueth he in euerlasting blis , Sweet spirit neuer fearing more to die : Ne dreading harme from any foes of his , Ne fearing saluage beasts more crueltie . Whilest we here wretches waile his priuate lack , And with vaine vowes do often call him back . But liue thou there still happie , happie spirit , And giue vs leaue thee here thus to lament : Not thee that doest thy heauens ioy inherit , But our owne selues that here in dole are drent . Thus do we weep and waile , and wear our eies , Mourning in others , our owne miseries . Which when she ended had , another swaine Of gentle wit and daintie sweet deuice : Whom Astrophel full deare did entertaine , Whilest here he liv'd , and held in passing price , Hight Thestylis , began his mournfull tourne , And made the Muses in his song to mourne . And after him full many other moe , As euerie one in order lov'd him best , Gan dight themselues t' expresse their inward woe , With dolefull layes vnto the time addrest . The which I here in order will rehearse , As fittest flowres to deck his mournfull hearse .

The mourning Muse of Thestylis . COme forth ye Nymphes come forth , forsake you watry bowres , Forsake your mossy caues , and help me to lament : Help me to tune my dolefull notes to gurgling sound Of Liffies tumbling streames : Come let salt teares of ours , Mix with his waters fresh . O come let one consent Ioyne vs to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound Which fatall clap hath made ; decreed by higher powres . The dreery day in which they haue from vs yrent The noblest plant that might from East to West be found . Mourne , mourn , great Philips fall , mourn we his wofull end , Whom spitefull death hath pluct vntimely from the tree , Whiles yet his yeares in flowre , did promise worthie frute . Ah dreadful Mars why didst thou not thy knight defend ? What wrathfull mood , what fault of ours hath moued thee Of such a shining light to leaue vs destitute ? Tho with benigne aspect sometime didst vs behold , Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old , And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute Fame and renowme to vs for glorious martiall deeds . But now their ireful bemes haue chill'd our harts with cold , Thou hast estrang'd thy self , and deignest not our land : Farre off to others now , thy fauour honour breeds , And high disdaine doth cause thee shun our clime ( I feare ) For hadst thou not bene wroth , or that time neare at hand , Thou wouldst haue heard the cry that woful England made , Eke Zelands piteous plaints , and Hollands toren heare Would haply haue appeas'd thy diuine angry mynd : Thou shouldst haue seen the trees refuse to yeeld their shade And wailing to let fall the honor of their head , And birds in mournfull tunes lamenting in their kinde : Vp from his tombe the mightie Corineus rose , Who cursing oft the fates that this mishap had bred , His hoary locks he tare , calling the heauens vnkinde . The Thames was heard to roare , the Reyne and eke the Mose , The Schald , the Danow selfe this great mischance did rue , With torment and with grief ; their fountains pure & cleere Were troubled , & with swelling flouds declar'd their woes . The Muses comfortles , the Nymphs with paled hue , The Siluan Gods likewise came running farre and neere , And all with teares bedeawd , and eyes cast vp on hie , O help , O help ye Gods , they ghastly gan to crie . O chaunge the cruell fate of this so rare a wight , And graunt that natures course may measure out his age . The beasts their foode forsooke , and trembling fearfully , Each sought his caue or den , this cry did them so fright . Out from amid the waues , by storme then stirr'd to rage This crie did cause to rise th' old father Ocean hoare , Who graue with eld , and full of maiestie in sight , Spake in this wise . Refrain ( quoth he ) your teares & plaints , Cease these your idle words , make vaine requests no more . No humble speech nor mone , may moue the fixed stint Of destinie or death : Such is his will that paints The earth with colours fresh ; the darkest skies with store Of starry lights : And though your teares a hart of flint Might tender make , yet nought herein they will preuaile . Whiles thus he said , the noble knight , who gan to feele His vitall force to faint , and death with cruell dint Of direfull dart his mortall bodie to assaile , With eyes lift vp to heav'n , and courage franke as steele , With cheerfull face ; where valour liuely was exprest , But humble mynd he said . O Lord if ought this fraile And earthly carcasse haue thy seruice sought t' aduaunce , If my desire haue bene still to relieue th' opprest : If Iustice to maintaine that valour I haue spent Which thou me gau'st ; or if henceforth I might aduaunce Thy name , thy truth , then spare me ( Lord ) if thou think best , Forbeare these vnripe yeares . But if thy will be bent , If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set , Through pure and feruent faith , I hope now to be plast , In th' euerlasting blis , which with thy precious blood Thou purchase didst for vs . With that a sigh he fet , And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercast , His lips waxt pale and wan , like damaske roses bud Cast from the stalke , or like in field to purple flowre , Which languisheth being shred by culter as it past . A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines , which were With eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre , Whose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare , Next , murmuring ensude ; at last they not forbeare Plaine outcries , all against the heau's that enuiously Depriv'd vs of a spright so perfect and so rare . The Sun his lightsom beames did shrowd , and hide his face For griefe , whereby the earth feard night eternally : The mountaines each where shooke , the riuers turn'd their streames , And th' aire gan winterlike to rage and fret apace : And grisly ghosts by night were seene , and fierie gleames , Amid the clouds with claps of thunder , that did seeme To rent the skies , and made both man and beast afeard : The birds of ill presage this lucklesse chance foretold , By dernfull noise , and dogs with howling made man deeme Some mischief was at hand : for such they do esteeme As tokens of mishap , and so haue done of old . Ah that thou hadst but heard his louely Stella plaine Her greeuous losse , or seene her heauie mourning cheere , While she with woe opprest , her sorrowes did vnfold . Her haire hung lose neglect , about her shoulders twaine , And from those two bright starres , to him sometime so deere Her heart sent drops of pearle , which fell in foyson downe Twixt lilly and the rose . She wroong her hands with paine , And piteously gan say , My true and faithfull pheere , Alas and woe is me , why should my fortune frowne On me thus frowardly to rob me of my ioy ? What cruell enuious hand hath taken thee away , And with thee my content , my comfort and my stay ? Thou onelie wast the ease of trouble and annoy , When they did me assaile , in thee my hopes did rest . Alas what now is left but grief , that night and day Afflicts this wofull life , and with continuall rage Torments ten thousand waies my mtserable brest ? O greedie enuious heau'n what needed thee to haue Enricht with such a Iewell this vnhappie age , To take it back againe so soone ? Alas when shall Mine eies see ought that may content them , since thy graue My onely treasure hides the ioyes of my poore hart ? As herewith thee on earth I liv'd , euen so equall Me thinkes it were with thee in heau'n I did abide : And as our troubles all we here on earth did part , So reason would that there of thy most happie state I had my share . Alas if thou my trustie guide Were wont to be , how canst thou leaue me thus alone In darknesse and astray ; weake , wearie , desolate , Plung d in a world of woe , refusing for to take Me with thee , to the place of rest where thou art gone . This said , she held her peace , for sorrow tide her toong ; And insteed of more words , seemd that her eies a lake Of teares had bene , they flow'd so plenteously therefro : And with her sobs and sighs , th' aire round about her roong . If Venus when she waild her deare Adonis slaine , Ought moov'd in thy fiers hart compassion of her woe , His noble sisters plaints , her sighes and teares emong , Would sure haue made thee milde , and inly rue her paine : Aurora halfe so faire , her selfe did neuer show , When from old Tithons bed , shee weeping did arise . The blinded archer-boy , like larke in showre of raine Sat bathing of his wings , and glad the time did spend Vnder those cristall drops , which fell from her faire eies , And at their brightest beames him proynd in louely wise . Yet sorie for her grief , which he could not amend , The gentle boy gan wipe her eies , & clear those lights , Those lights through which , his glory and his conquests shine . The Graces tuckt her hair , which hung like threds of gold , Along her yuorie brest the treasure of delights . All things with her to weep , it seemed , did encline , The trees , the hills , the dales , the caues , the stones so cold . The aire did help them mourne , with dark clouds , raine and mist , Forbearing many a day to cleare it selfe againe , Which made them eftsoones feare the daies of Pirrha shold , Of creatures spoile the earth , their fatall threds vntwist . For Phoebus gladsome raies were wished for in vaine , And with her quiuering light Latonas daughter faire , And Charles-waine eke refus'd to be the shipmans guide . On Neptune warre was made by Aeolus and his traine , Who letting loose the winds , tost and tormented th' aire , So that on eu'ry coast men shipwrack did abide , Or else were swallowed vp in open sea with waues , And such as came to shoare , were beaten with despaire . The Medwaies siluer streames , that wont so still to slide , Were troubled now & wrothe : whose hidden hollow caues Along his banks with fog then shrowded from mans eye , Ay Phillip did resownd , aie Phillip they did crie . His Nimphs were seen no more ( thogh custom stil it craues ) With haire spred to the wynd themselues to bath or sport , Or with the hooke or net , barefooted wantonly The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceiue . The shepheards left their wonted places of resort , Their bagpipes now were still ; their louing mery layes Were quite forgot ; and now their flocks , men might perceiue To wander and to straie , all carelesly neglect . And in the stead of mirth and pleasure , nights and dayes Nought els was to be heard , but woes , complaints & mone . But thou ( O blessed soule ) doest haply not respect , These teares we shead , though full of louing pure affect , Hauing affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne , Where full of maiestie the high creator reignes . In whose bright shining face thy ioyes are all complete , Whose loue kindles thy spright ; where happie alwaies one , Thou liu'st in blis that earthly passion neuer staines ; Where from the purest spring the sacred Nectar sweete Is thy continuall drinke : where thou doest gather now Of well emploied life , th' inestimable gaines . There Venus on thee smiles , Apollo giues thee place , And Mars in reuerent wise doth to thy vertue bow , And decks his fiery sphere , to do thee honour most . In highest part whereof , thy valour for to grace , A chaire of gold he setts to thee , and there doth tell Thy noble acts arew , whereby euen they that boast Themselues of auncient fame , as Pirrhus , Hanniball , Scipio and Caesar , with the rest that did excell In martiall prowesse , high thy glorie do admire . All haile therefore O worthie Phillip immortall , The flowre of Sydneyes race , the honour of thy name , Whose worthie praise to sing , my Muses not aspire , But sorrowfull and sad these teares to thee let fall , Yet wish their verses might so farre and wide thy fame Extend , that enuies rage , nor time might end the same .

A pastorall Aeglogue vpon the death of Sir Phillip Sidney Knight , &c. Lycon . Colin . Colin , well fits thy sad cheare this sad stownd , This wofull stownd , wherein all things complaine This great mishap , this greeuous losse of owres . Hear'st thou the Orown ? how with hollow sownd He slides away , and murmuring doth plaine , And seemes to say vnto the sading flowres , Along his bankes , vnto the bared trees ; Phillisides is dead . Vp iolly swaine , Thou that with skill canst tune a dolefull lay , Help him to mourn . My hart with grief doth freese , Hoarse is my voice with crying , else a part Sure would I beare , though rude : But as I may , With sobs and sighes I second will thy song , And so expresse the sorrowes of my hart . Colin . Ah Lycon , Lycon , what need skill , to teach A grieued mynd powre forth his plaints ? how long Hath the pore Turtle gon to school ( weenest thou ) To learne to mourne her lost make ? No , no , each Creature by nature can tell how to waile . Seest not these flocks , how sad they wander now ? Seemeth their leaders bell their bleating tunes In dolefull sound . Like him , not one doth faile With hanging head to shew a heauie cheare , What bird ( I pray thee ) hast thou seen , that prunes Himselfe of late ? did any cheerfull note Come to thine eares , or gladsome sight appeare Vnto thine eies , since that same fatall howre ? Hath not the aire put on his mourning coat , And testfied his grief with flowing teares ? Sith then , it seemeth each thing to his powre Doth vs inuite to make a sad consort ; Come let vs ioyne our mournfull song with theirs . Griefe will endite , and sorrow will enforce Thy voice , and Eccho will our words report . Lyc. Though my rude rymes , ill with thy verses frame , That others farre excell ; yet will I force My selfe to answere thee the best I can , And honor my base words with his high name . But if my plaints annoy thee where thou sit In secret shade or cave ; vouchsafe ( O Pan ) To pardon me , and here this hard constraint With patience while I sing , and pittie it . And eke ye rurall Muses , that do dwell In these wilde woods ; If euer piteous plaint We did endite , or taught a wofull minde With words of pure affect , his griefe to tell , Instruct me now . Now Colin then goe on , And I will follow thee , though farre behinde . Colin . Phillisides is dead . O harmfull death , O deadly harme . Vnhappie Albion When shalt thou see emong thy shepheards all , Any so sage , so perfect ? Whom vneath Enuie could touch for vertuous life and skill ; Curteous , valiant , and liberall . Behold the sacred Pales , where with haire Vntrust she sitts , in shade of yonder hill . And her faire face bent sadly downe , doth send A floud of teares to bathe the earth ; and there Doth call the heau'ns despightfull , enuious , Cruell his fate , that made so short an end Of that same life , well worthie to haue bene Prolongd with many yeares , happie and famous . The Nymphs and Oreades her round about Do sit lamenting on the grassie grene ; And with shrill cries , beating their whitest brests , Accuse the direfull dart that death sent out To giue the fatall stroke . The starres they blame , That deafe or carelesse seeme at their request . The pleasant shade of stately groues they shun ; They leaue their cristall springs , where they wont frame Sweet bowres of Myrtel twigs and Lawrel faire , To sport themselues free from the scorching Sun . And now the hollow caues where horror darke Doth dwell , whence banisht is the gladsome aire They seeke ; and there in mourning spend their time With wailfull tunes , whiles wolues do howle and barke , And seem to beare a bourdon to their plaint . Lyc. Phillisides is dead . O dolefull ryme . Why should my toong expresse thee ? who is left Now to vphold thy hopes , when they do faint , Lycon vnfortunate ? What spitefull fate , What lucklesse destinie hath thee bereft Of thy chief comfort ; of thy onely stay ? Where is become thy wonted happie state , ( Alas ) wherein through many a hill and dale , Through pleasant woods , and many an vnknowne way , Along the bankes of many siluer streames , Thou with him yodest ; and with him didst scale The craggie rocks of th' Alpes and Appenine ? Still with the Muses sporting , while those beames Of vertue kindled in his noble brest , Which after did so gloriously forth shine ? But ( woe is me ) they now yquenched are All suddeinly , and death hath them opprest . Loe father Neptune , with sad countenance , How he sitts mourning on the strond now bare , Yonder , where th' Ocean with his rolling waues The white feete washeth ( wailing this mischance ) Of Douer cliffes . His sacred skirt about The sea-gods all are set ; from their moist caues All for his comfort gathered there they be . The Thamis rich , the Humber rough and stout , The fruitfull Seuerne , with the rest are come To helpe their Lord to mourne , and eke to see The dolefull sight , and sad pomp funerall Of the dead corps passing through his kingdome . And all their heads with Cypres gyrlonds crown'd With wofull shrikes salute him great and small . Eke wailfull Eccho , forgetting her deare Narcissus , their last accents , doth resownd . Col. Phillisides is dead . O lucklesse age ; O widow world ; O brookes and fountains cleere ; O hills , O dales , O woods that oft haue rong With his sweet caroling , which could asswage The fiercest wrath of Tygre or of Beare . Ye Siluans , Fawnes , and Satyres , that emong These thickets oft haue daunst after his pipe , Ye Nymphs and Nayades with golden heare , That oft haue left your purest cristall springs To harken to his layes , that coulden wipe Away all griefe and sorrow from your harts . Alas who now is left that like him sings ? When shall you heare againe like harmonie ? So sweet a sownd , who to you now imparts ? Loe where engraued by his hand yet liues The name of Stella , in yonder bay tree . Happie name , happie tree ; faire may you grow , And spred your sacred branch , which honor giues , To famous Emperours , and Poets crowne . Vnhappie flock that wander scattred now , What maruell if through grief ye woxen leane , Forsake your food , and hang your heads adowne ? For such a shepheard neuer shall you guide , whose parting , hath of weale bereft you cleane . Lyc. Phillisides is dead . O happie sprite , That now in heau'n with blessed soules doest bide : Looke down a while from where thou sitst aboue , And see how busie shepheards be to endite Sad songs of grief , their sorrowes to declare , And gratefull memory of their kynd loue . Behold my selfe with Colin , gentle swaine ( Whose lerned Muse thou cherisht most whyleare ) Where we thy name recording , seeke to ease The inward torment and tormenting paine , That thy departure to vs both hath bred ; Ne can each others sorrow yet appease . Behold the fountains now left desolate , And with red grasse with cypres boughes be-spred , Behold these floures which on thy graue we strew ; Which faded , shew the giuers faded state , ( Though eke they shew their feruent zeale & pure ) Whose onely comfort on thy welfare grew . Whose praiers importune shall the heau's for ay , That to thy ashes , rest they may assure : That learnedst shepheards honor may thy name With yeerly praises , and the Nymphs alway Thy tomb may deck with fresh & sweetest flowres ; And that for euer may endure thy fame . Colin . The Sun ( lo ) hastned hath his face to steep In western waues : and th' aire with stormy showres Warnes vs to driue homewards our silly sheep , Lycon , lett 's rise , and take of them good keep . Virtute summa : caetera fortuna . L. B.

An Elegie , or friends passion , for his Astrophill . Written vpon the death of the right Honourable sir Phillip Sidney Knight , Lord gouernour of Flushing . AS then , no winde at all there blew , No swelling cloude , accloid the aire , The skie , like grasse of watchet hew , Reflected Phoebus golden haire , The garnisht tree , no pendant stird , No voice was heard of anie bird . There might you see the burly Beare , The Lion king , the Elephant , The maiden Vnicorne was there , So was Acteons horned plant , And what of wilde or tame are found , Were coucht in order on the ground . Alcides speckled poplar tree , The palme that Monarchs do obtaine , With Loue iuice staind the mulberie , The fruit that dewes the Poets braine , And Phillis philbert there away , Comparde with mirtle and the bay . The tree that coffins doth adorne , With stately height threatning the skie , And for the bed of Loue forlorne , The blacke and dolefull Ebonie , All in a circle compast were , Like to an Ampitheater . Vpon the branches of those trees , The airie winged people sat , Distinguished in od degrees , One sort is this , another that , Here Philomell , that knowes full well , What force and wit in loue doth dwell . The skiebred Egle roiall bird , Percht there vpon an oke aboue , The Turtle by him neuer stird , Example of immortall loue . The swan that sings about to dy , Leauing Meander stood thereby . And that which was of woonder most , The Phoenix left sweet Arabie : And on a Caedar in this coast , Built vp her tombe of spicerie , As I coniecture by the same , Preparde to take her dying flame . In midst and center of this plot , I saw one groueling on the grasse : A man or stone , I knew not that , No stone , of man the figure was , And yet I could not count him one , More than the image made of stone . At length I might perceiue him reare His bodie on his elbow end : Earthly and pale with gastly cheare , Vpon his knees he vpward tend , Seeming like one in vncouth stound , To be ascending out the ground . A grieuous sigh forthwith he throwes , As might haue torne the vitall strings , Then down his cheeks the teares so flows , As doth the streame of many springs . So thunder rends the cloud in twaine , And makes a passage for the raine . Incontinent with trembling sound , He wofully gan to complaine , Such were the accents as might wound , And teare a diamond rocke in twaine , After his throbs did somewhat stay , Thus heauily he gan to say . O sunne ( said he ) seeing the sunne , On wretched me why dost thou shine , My star is falne , my comfort done , Out is the apple of my eine , Shine vpon those possesse delight , And let me liue in endlesse might . O griefe that liest vpon my soule , As heauie as a mount of lead , The remnant of my life controll , Consort me quickly with the dead , Halfe of this hart , this sprite and will , Di'de in the brest of Astrophill . And you compassionate of my wo , Gentle birds , beasts and shadie trees , I am assurde ye long to kno , What be the sorrowes me agreeu's , Listen ye then to that insu'th , And heare a tale of teares and ruthe . You knew , who knew not Astrophill , ( That I should liue to say I knew , And haue not in possession still ) Things knowne permit me to renew , Of him you know his merit such , I cannot say , you heare too much . Within these woods of Arcadie , He chiefe delight and pleasure tooke , And on the mountaine Parthenie , Vpon the chrystall liquid brooke , The Muses met him eu'ry day , That taught him sing , to write and say . When he descended downe to the mount , His personage seemed most diuine , A thousand graces one might count , Vpon his louely cheerfull eine , To heare him speake and sweetly smile , You were in Paradise the while . A sweet attractiue kinde of grace , A full assurance giuen by lookes , Continuall comfort in a face , The lineaments of Gospell bookes , I trowe that countenance cannot lie , Whose thoughts are legible in the eie . Was euer eie , did see that face , Was neuer eare , did heare that tong , Was neuer minde , did minde his grace , That euer thought the trauell long , But eies , and eares , and eu'ry thought , Were with his sweete perfections caught . O God , that such a worthy man , In whom so rare desarts did raigne , Desired thus , must leaue vs than , And we to wish for him in vaine , O could the stars that bred that wit , In force no longer fixed sit . Then being fild with learned dew , The Muses willed him to loue , That instrument can aptly shew , How finely our conceits will moue , As Bacchus opes dissembled harts , So loue sets out our better parts . Stella , a Nymph within this wood , Most rare and rich of heauenly blis , The highest in his fancie stood , And she could well demerite this , T is likely they acquainted soone , He was a Sun , and she a Moone . Our Astrophill did Stella loue , O Stella vaunt of Astrophrill , Albeit thy graces gods may moue , Where wilt thou finde an Astrophill , The rose and lillie haue their prime , And so hath beautie but a time . Although thy beautie do exceed , In common sight of eu'ry eie , Yet in his Poesies when we reede , It is apparant more thereby , He that hath loue and iudgement to , Sees more than any other doo . Then Astrophill hath honord thee , For when thy bodie is extinct , Thy graces shall eternall be , And liue by vertue of his inke , For by his verses he doth giue , To short liude beautie aye to liue . Aboue all others this is hee , Which erst approoued in his song , That loue and honor might agree , And that pure loue will do no wrong , Sweet saints it is no sinne nor blame , To loue a man of vertuous name . Did neuer loue so sweetly breath In any mortall brest before , Did neuer Muse inspire beneath , A Poets braine with finer store : He wrote of loue with high conceit , And beautie reard aboue her height . Then Pallas afterward attyrde , Our Astrophill with her deuice , Whom in his armor heauen admyrde . As of the nation of the skies , He sparkled in his armes afarrs , As he were dight with fierie starrs . The blaze whereof when Mars beheld , ( An enuious eie doth see afar ) Such maiestie ( quoth he ) is seeld , Such maiestie my mart may mar , Perhaps this may a suter be , To set Mars by his deitie . In this surmize he made with speede , An iron cane wherein he put , The thunder that in cloudes do breede , The flame and bolt togither shut . With priuie force burst out againe , And so our Astrophill was slaine . His word ( was slain ) straightway did moue , And natures inward life strings twitch , The skie immediately aboue , Was dimd with hideous clouds of pitch , The wrastling winds from out the ground , Fild all the aire with ratling sound . The bending trees exprest a grone , And sigh'd the sorrow of his fall , The forrest beasts made ruthfull mone , The birds did tune their mourning call , And Philomell for Astrophill , Vnto her notes annext a phill . The Turtle doue with tunes of ruthe , Shewd feeling passion of his death , Me thought she said I tell thee truthe , Was neuer he that drew in breath , Vnto his loue more trustie found , Than he for whom our griefs abound . The swan that was in presence heere , Began his funerall dirge to sing , Good things ( quoth he ) may scarce appeere , But passe away with speedie wing . This mortall life as death is tride , And death giues life , and so he di'de . The generall sorrow that was made , Among the creatures of kinde , Fired the Phoenix where she laide , Her ashes flying with the winde , So as I might with reason see , That such a Phoenix nere should bee . Haply the cinders driuen about , May breede an offspring neere that kinde , But hardly a peere to that I doubt , It cannot sinke into my minde , Than vnder branches ere can bee , Of worth and value as the tree . The Egle markt with pearcing sight , The mournfull habite of the place , And parted thence with mounting flight , To signifie to Ioue the the case , What sorrow nature doth sustaine , For Astrophill by enuie slaine . And while I followed with mine eie , The flight the Egle vpward tooke , All things did vanish by and by , And disappeared from my looke , The trees , beasts , birds , and groue was gone , So was the friend that made this mone . This spectacle had firmly wrought , A deepe compassion in my spright , My molting hart issude me thought , In streames forth at mine eies aright , And here my pen is forst to shrinke , My teares discollors so mine inke .

An Epitaph vpon the right Honourable sir Phillip Sidney knight : Lord gouernor of Flushing . TO praise thy life , or waile thy worthie death , And want thy wit , thy wit high , pure , diuine , Is far beyond the powre of mortall line , Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath . Yet rich in zeale , though poore in learnings lore , And friendly care obscurde in secret brest , And loue that enuie in thy life supprest , Thy deere life done , and death hath doubled more . And I , that in thy time and liuing state , Did onely praise thy vertues in my thought , As one that seeld the rising sun hath sought , With words and teares now waile thy timelesse fate . Drawne was thy race , aright from princely line , Nor lesse than such , ( by gifts that nature gaue , The common mother that all creatures haue , ) Doth vertue shew , and princely linage shine . A king gaue thee thy name , a kingly minde , That God thee gaue , who found it now too deere For this base world , and hath resumde it neere , To sit in skies , and sort with powres diuine . Kent thy birth daies , and Oxford held thy youth , The heauens made hast , & staid nor yeers , nor time , The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime , Thy will , thy words ; thy words the seales of truth . Great gifts and wisedom rare imployd thee thence , To treat from kings , with those more great than kings , Such hope men had to lay the highest things , On thy wise youth , to be transported hence . Whence to sharpe wars sweet honor did thee call , Thy countries loue , religion , and thy friends : Of worthy men , the marks , the liues and ends , And her defence , for whom we labor all . There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age , Griefe , sorrow , sicknes , and base fortunes might : Thy rising day , saw neuer wofull night , But past with praise , from of this worldly stage . Back to the campe , by thee that day was brought , First thine owne death , and after thy long fame ; Teares to the soldiers , the proud Castilians shame ; Vertue exprest , and honor truly taught . What hath he lost , that such great grace hath woon , Yoong yeeres , for endles yeeres , and hope vnsure , Of fortunes gifts , for wealth that still shall dure , Oh happie race with so great praises run . England doth hold thy lims that bred the same , Flaunders thy valure where it last was tried , The Campe thy sorrow where thy bodie died , Thy friends , thy want ; the world , thy vertues fame . Nations thy wit , our mindes lay vp thy loue , Letters thy learning , thy losse , yeeres long to come , In worthy harts sorrow hath made thy tombe , Thy soule and spright enrich the heauens aboue . Thy liberall hart imbalmd in gratefull teares , Yoong sighs , sweet sighes , sage sighes , bewaile thy fall , Enuie her sting , and spite hath left her gall , Malice her selfe , a mourning garment weares . That day their Hanniball died , our Scipio fell , Scipio , Cicero , and Petrarch of our time , Whose vertues wounded by my worthlesse rime , Let Angels speake , and heauen thy praises tell .

Another of the same . SIlence augmenteth grief , writing encreaseth rage , Stald are my thoughts , which lou'd , & lost , the wonder of our age , Yet quickned now with fire , though dead with frost ere now , Enrag'de I write , I know not what : dead , quick , I know not how . Hard harted mindes relent , and rigors teares abound , And enuie strangely rues his end , in whom no fault she found , Knowledge her light hath lost , valor hath slaine her knight , Sidney is dead , dead is my friend , dead is the worlds delight . Place pensiue wailes his fall , whose presence was her pride , Time crieth out , my ebbe is come : his life was my spring tide , Fame mournes in that she lost , the ground of her reports , Ech liuing wight laments his lacke , and all in sundry sorts . He was ( wo worth that word ) to ech well thinking minde , A spotlesse friend , a matchles man , whose vertue euer shinde , Declaring in his thoughts , his life , and that he writ , Highest conceits , longest foresights , and deepest works of wit . He onely like himselfe , was second vnto none , Whose deth ( though life ) we rue , & wrong , & al in vain do mone , Their losse , not him waile they , that fill the world with cries , Death slue not him , but he made death his ladder to the skies . Now sinke of sorrow I , who liue , the more the wrong , Who wishing death , whom deth denies , whose thred is al to long , Who tied to wretched life , who lookes for no reliefe , Must spend my euer dying daies , in neuer ending griefe . Harts ease and onely I , like parables run on , Whose equall length , keep equall bredth , and neuer meet in one , Yet for not wronging him , my thoughts , my sorrowes cell , Shall not run out , though leake they will , for liking him so well . Farewell to you my hopes , my wonted waking dreames , Farewell sometimes enioyed , ioy , eclipsed are thy beames , Farewell selfe pleasing thoughts , which quietnes brings foorth , And farewel friendships sacred league , vniting minds of woorth . And farewell mery hart , the gift of guiltlesse mindes , And all sports , which for liues restore , varietie assignes , Let all that sweete is voyd ; in me no mirth may dwell , Phillip , the cause of all this woe , my liues content farewell . Now rime , the sonne of rage , which art no kin to skill , And endles griefe , which deads my life , yet knowes not how to kill , Go seekes that haples tombe , which if ye hap to finde , Salute the stones , that keep the lims , that held so good a minde . FINIS .

LONDON Printed by T. C. for William Ponsonbie . 1595.