And all their birds with filence to complain;
The fields with faded flowers did feem to mourn,
And all their flocks from feeding to refrain;
The running waters wept for thy return,
And all their fish with langour did lament;
But now both woods, and fields, and floods revive,
Sith thou art come, their cause of merriment,
That us late dead hast made again alive.
But were it not too painful to repeat
The paffed fortunes which to thee befel
In thy late voyage, we would thee intreat,
Now at thy leifure, them to us to tell.

To whom the shepherd gently answer'd thus;
"Hobbin, thou tempteft me to that I covet,
For of good paffed newly to discuss,
By double ufury doth twife renew it :
And fince I faw that angel's blessed eye,
Her world's bright fun, her heaven's fairest light,
My mind, full of my thought's fatiety,

Doth feed on fweet contentment of that fight:
Since that fame day in nought I take delight,
Ne feeling have in any earthly pleasure,
But in remembrance of that glory bright,
My life's fole blifs, my heart's eternal treasure.
Wake, then, my Pipe! my fleepy Muse! awake,
Till I have told her praises lafting long;
Hobbin defires thou mayst it not forfake;
Hark, then, ye jolly fhepherd's! to my fong."
With that they all 'gan throng about him neare,
With hungry cars to hear his harmony,
The whiles their flocks, devoid of danger's fear,
Did round about them feed at liberty.

"One day (quoth he) I fate (as was my trade)
Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hore,
Keeping my fheep amongst the cooly fhade
Of the green alders by the Mulla's fhore;
There a strange shepherd chaune'd to find me out,
Whether allured with my pipe's delight,
Whofe pleafing found yfhrilled far about,
Or thither led by chance, I know not right;
Whom when I asked from what place he came,
And how he hight? himself he did ycleep
The Shepherd of the Ocean by name,
And said he came far from the main-sea deep.
He fitting me beside in that same shade,
Provoked me to play fome pleasant fit;
And when he heard the mufick which I made,
He found himself full greatly pleas'd at it;
Yet, æmuling my pipe, he took in hond
My pipe, before that æmuled of many,
And plaid thereon, (for well that skill he cond)
Himfelf as fkilful in that art as any.

He pip'd, I fung; and when he fung I piped,
By change of turns each making other merry,
Neither envying other, nor envied;
So piped we until we both were weary."

There interrupting him, a bonny swain,
That Cuddy hight, him thus atween befpake;
"And fhould it not thy ready courfe reftrain,
I would request thee, Colin, for my fake,
To tell what thou didst fing when he did play;
For well I ween it worth recounting was,
Whether it were fome hymn or moral lay,
Or carol made to praise thy loved lafs?”

Nor of my love, nor of my lafs," quoth he, "I then did fing, as then occafion fell; For love had me forlorn, forlorn of me, That made me in that defart choose to dwell; But of my river Bregog's love I song, Which to the shiny Mulla he did bear, And yet doth bear, and ever will, so long As water doch within his banks appear."

"Of fellowship," said then that bonny boy, "Record to us that lovely lay again, The stay whereof fhall nought these ears annoy, Who all that Colin makes do covet fain."

"Hear then," quoth he, “the tenor of my tale,

In fort as I it to that shepherd told;
No leafing new, nor grandame's fable ftale,
But antient truth, confirm'd with credence old.
"Old Father Mole, (Mole hight that mountain

gray

That walls the north-fide of Armulla dale)
He had a daughter fresh as flower of May,
Which gave that name unto that pleasant vale;
Mulla, the daughter of old Mole, so hight
The nymph, which of that water-courfe has
charge,

That fpringing out of Mole doth run down right
To Buttevant, where, fpreading forth at large,
It giveth name unto that antient city
Which Kilnemullah cleeped is of old,
Whose cragged ruines breed great ruth and pity
To travellers which it from far behold.
Full fain the lov'd, and was belov'd full fain
Of her own brother river, Bregog hight,
So hight because of this deceitful train
Which he with Mulla wrought to win delight;
But her old fire, more careful of her good,
And meaning her much better to prefer,
Did think to match her with the neighbour
flood,

Which Alla hight, Broad-water called far,
And wrought fo well with his continual pain,
That he that river for his daughter won;
The dowre agreed, the day affigned plain,
The place appointed where it fhould be done,
Nath'lefs the nymph her former liking held,
For Love will not be drawn, but must be led,
And Bregog did fo well her fancy weld,
That her good-will he got her first to wed ;
But for her father, fitting ftill on high,
Did warily ftill watch which way she went,
And eke from far obferv'd with jealous eye
Which way his courfe the wanton Bregog bent,
Him to deceive for all his watchful ward,
The wily lover did devife this flight;
First into many parts his stream he shar'd,
That whilft the one was watch, the other might
Pafs unefpy'd to meet her by the way:
And then befides thofe little streams, fo broken,
He under ground fo clofely did convey,
That of their paffage doth appear no token,
Till they into the Mulla's water flide:
So fecretly did he his love enjoy,
Yet not fo fecret but it was defcride,
And told her father by a shepherd's boy,

Whe, wondrous wroth for that fo foul defpight,
In great avenge did roll down from his hill
Huge mighty ftones, the which encomber might
His paffage, and his water-courses spill;
So of a river, which he was of old,

He none was made, but scatter'd all to nought,
And, lo among thofe rocks into him rold,
Did lof his name: fo dear his love he bought."
Which having faid, him Theftylis befpake."
Now by my life this was a merry lay,
Worthy of Colin's felf, that did it make;
But read now eke, of friendship I thee pray,
What ditty did that other shepherd fing;
For I do covet moft the fame to hear,
As men ufe moft to covet foreign thing."
"That shall I eke," quoth he, "to you declare.
His fong was a lamentable lay

Of great unkindness, and of ufage hard
Of Cynthia, the lady of the fea,

Which from her prefence faultlesse him debarr'd;
And ever and anon, with fingults rife,
He cried out, to make his underfong,
"Ah my loves queen, and goddess of my life,
Who fhall me pity when thou dost me wrong?".

Then 'gan a gentle bonny lafs to speak,

That Martine hight." Right well he fure did 'plain,

That could great Cynthia's fore displeasure break,
And move to take him to her grace again.
But tell on further, Colin, as befel

'Twixt him and thee, what thee did hence diffuade?"

"When thus our pipes we both had wearied well,"

Quoth he," and each an end of finging made,
He 'gan to caft great liking to my lore,
And great difliking to my luckless lot,
That banish'd had myself like wight forelore,
Into that waste, where I was quite forgot;

The which to leave thenceforth he counsel'd

me,

Unmeet for man in whom was ought regardful, And wend with him, his Cynthia to fee,

Whofe grace was great, and bounty most rewardful,

Befides her peerless skill in making well,
And all the ornaments of wondrous wit,
Such as all womankind did far excell,
Such as the world admir'd and praised it :
So that with hope of good, and hate of ill,
He me perfuaded forth with him to fare:
Nought took I with me but mine oaten quill,
Small needments elfe need fhepherds to prepare :
So to the fea we came; the fea, that is,
A world of waters heaped up on high,
Rolling like mountains in wild wilderness,
Horrible, hideous, roaring with hoarfe cry."
"And is the fea," quoth Coridon, "fo fear-

66

"ful?"

Fearful much more," quoth he, " than heart can fear;

Thoufand wild beasts, with deep mouths gaping direful,

Therein still wait, poor paffengers to tear.
Who life doth loath, and longs death to behold
Before he die, already dead with fear,
And yet would live with heart half ftony cold,
Let him to fea, and he shall see it there:
And yet as ghaftly dreadful as it seems,
Bold men, prefuming life for gain to fell,
Dare tempt that gulf, and in those wandring
ftreams

Seek ways unknown, ways leading down to hell:
For as we stood there waiting on the ftrond,
Behold, an huge great veffel to us came,
Dancing upon the waters back to lond,
As if it fcorn'd the danger of the fame;
Yet was it but a wooden frame, and frail,
Glewed together with fome fubtile matter;
Yet had it arms, and wings, and head and tail,
And life to move itself upon the water.
Strange thing! how bold and swift the monfter
was!

That neither car'd for wind, nor hail, nor rain,
Nor fwelling waves, but through them did pass
So proudly, that she made them rore again.
The fame aboord us gently did receave,
And without harm us far away did bear,
So far, that land, our mother, us did leave,
And nought but fea and heaven to us appear.
Then heartless quite, and full of inward fear,
That shepherd I befought to me to tell
Under what sky, or in what world, we were,
In which I faw no living people dwell;
Who me recomforting all that he might,
Told me that that fame was the regiment
Of a great fhepherdefs that Cynthia hight,
His liege, his lady, and his life's regent.

If then, quoth I, a fhepherdefs the be, Where be the flocks and herds which the doth keep?

And where may I the hills and pastures fee,
On which she useth for to feed her sheep?
These be the hills, quoth he, the furges high,
On which fair Cynthia her herds doth feed;
Her herds be thousand fishes with their fry,
Which in the bofom of the billows breed:
Of them the fhepherd which has charge in chief
Is Triton, blowing loud his wreathed horn,
At found whereof they all for their relief
Wend to and fro at evening and at morn.
And Proteus, eke with him does drive his heard
Of flinking feales and porcpifces together,
With hoary head and dewy dropping beard
Compelling them which way he lift, and whi

ther;