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XLVII.

LIV.

XLVIII.

LVI.

L.

Tet let deftru&tion be the punishment,

And must pass over to th’ Elysian plain; So long as thankful will may it relent.

There grim Persephone encount'ring me,

Doth urge her fellow-furies carnestly
I carried am into waste wilderness,

With their bright fire-bronds me to terrifie.
Waste wilderness, amongst Cymmerian shades,
Where endless pains and hideous heaviness

There charte Alceste lives inviolate,
Is round about me heapt in darksome glades; Free from all care, for that her husband's days
For there huge Ochos fits in fad distress,

She did prolong, by changing fate for fare,
Fast bound with serpents that him oft invades, Ln, their lives also the immortal praise
Far off beholding Ephialtes' tide,

Of womankind, moft faithfull to her mate,
Which once assail'd to burn this world so wide. Penelope ! and from her far aways

A ruless rout of young-men, which her wood, And there is mournfull Tityus, mindful yet All ftain with darts, lie wallow'd in their blood. Of thy displeasure, O Latona fair!

IV. Displeasure too implacable was it

And fad Eurydice, thence now no more That made him meat for wild fowls of the air ; Must turn to life, but their detained be Much do I fear among fuch fiends to fit,

For looking back, being forbid before; Much do I fear back to them to repair,

Yet was the guilt thereof, Orpheus, in thec. To the black shadows of the Stygian thore, Bold sure he was, and worthy spirit bore, Where wretched ghosts fit wailing evermore. That durft those lowest shadows go to sce, XLIX.

And could believe that any thing could please There next the utmost brink doch he abide, Fell Cerberus, or Stygian powers appease. That did the banquets of the gods bewray, Whofe throat through thirit to nought nigh being Ne fear'd the burning waves of Phlegeton, dride,

Nor those same mournfull kingdoms, compassed His sense to seek for ease turns every way :

With rusty horrour and foul fashion, And he that in avengement of his pride,

And deap-dig'd vaults, and Tartar covered For scorning to the facred gods to pray,

With bloody night and dark confusion, Against a mountain rolls a mighty stone,

And judgment-leats, whose judge is deadly dred; Calling in vain for rest, and can have none. A judge that after death doth punish fore

The faults which life hath trespassed before.
Go ye with them, go, cursed Damofells?
Whose bridal torches foul Erynnis tynd,

But valiant Fortune made Dan Orpheus bold; And Hymen at your spousals sad fortells

For the swift running rivers still did stand, Tydings of death and massacre unkind;

And the wild beasts their fury did with-hold, With them that cruel Colchid mother dwells, To follow Orpheus' music through the land; The which conceiv'd in her avengeful mind And th'oakes, deep grounded in the earthly mold, With bitter wounds her own dear babes to flay, Did move as if they could him understand; And murdred troups upon great heaps to lay. And the shrill woods, which were of sense be

reav'd, There also those two Pandionian maids

Through ibeir hard bark his silver sound reccav’d,
Calling on Itis, Iris everniore,
Whom (wretched boy!) they few with guilty And cke the moon her hafly steeds did ftay,
blades,

Drawing in teems along the starry sky;
For whom the Thracian king lamenting fore, And didit (O monthly Virgin !) thou delay
Turn’d to a lapwing, foulie them upbraids, Thy nightly course to hear his melody?
And fluttering round about them still does soare; The same was able with like lovely lay
There now they all eternally complain,

The Queen of Hell to move as easily
Of others wrong, and suffer endless pain.

To yield Eurydice unto her fere,

Back to be borne, though it unlawful were.
But the two brethren, born of Cadmus' blood,
Whilft cach does for the soveraignty contend, She (Lady) having well before approv'd
Blind through ambition, and with vengeance The fiends to be too cruell and severe,
wood,

Observ'd ih' appointed way, as her behov’d, Each does against the other's body beod

Ne ever did her eye-light turn arere, His curfed ftvel, of neither well withstood, Ne ever ipake, ne cause of 1peaking mov'd; And with wide wounds their carcasses doth rend, But cruell Orpheus, thou much crueller, That yet they both do mortall foes remain, Seeking to kiss her, brok'st the gods' decree Sich each with other's bloodie hand was flain. And thereby mad'ít her ever damn'd co be.

LX. Ah! (weladay) there is no end of pain,

Ah! but sweet love of pardon worthy is, Nor change of labour may entreated be,

And doth deserve to have imall faults remitted, Yet I beyond all these am carried fain,

If hell at least things lightly done aniss Where other powers far different I fee,

Knew how to pardon when ought is omitted;

LVI.

LI.

LVIII.

LII.

LIX,

LIII.

LXI.

LXVIII.

LXII.

LXIX.

LX111.

LXX.

Yet are ye both recrived into bliss,

Therefore from him Laertes' son his view And to the seats of Irappy fouls admitted;

Doth turn aside, and boasts his good event And you beside the honourable band

In working of Strymonian Rhalus' tall, Of great heroes doe in order ftand.

And eft in Dolon's subtile surprisall. There be the two stousons of Æacus,

Again the dreadfull Cycons him dismay, Fierce Peleus, and the hardy Telamon,

And black Læstrigones, a people fout. Both seeming now full glad and joyeous

Then greedy Scilla, under whom there bay Through their firc's dreadfull jurisdiction, Many great bandogs, which her gird about : Being the judge of all that horrid house;

Then do th' Einean Cyclops him affray, And both of them by Itrange occasion

And deep Charybdis, gulphing in and out : Renown'd in choice of happie marriage

Lastly, the fquallid lakes of Tartary, Through Venus' grace and Vertue's carriage. And griefly tiends of hell him terrify. For th' one was ravilh'd of his own bond-maid, There also goodly Agamemnon boasts The faire Ixione, captiv'd from Troy ;

The glory of the stock of Tantalus, But th' cther was with Thetis' love aslaid, And famous light of all the Greekish hoits, Great Nereus his daughter, and his joy.

Under whose conduct most victorious, On this fide then there is a young man laid, The Dorick flames consum'd the Iliack posts. Their match in glory, mighty, fierce, and coy, Ah! but the Greeks themselves, more dolorous That from th' Argolick ibips with furious irc To thee, () Troy! paid penance for thy fall, Bett back the fury of the Trojan fire.

In the Hellespont being nigh drowned all. O! who would not recount the strong devorces Well may appear by proof of their mischance, Of that great war which Trojans oft beheld, The changefull curning of mens slippery state, And oft beheld the warlike Greekith forces, That none whom Fortune freely doth advance, When Teucrian soil with bloody rivers swell'd, Himself therefore to heaven should elevate; And wide Sigæan fhores were spred with corses, For lofty type of honour, through the glarice And Simois and Xanthus' blood out-weld, Of envy's dart, is down in duft proftrate; Whill Hector raged with outrageous mind, And all that vaunts in worldly vanity Flames, weapons, wounds, in Grcek's flect to have Shall fall through Fortune's mucability. tynd!

Th' Argolick power returning home again, For Ida's self, in aid of that ficrce fight,

Enrich'd with spoiles of th’ Ericthonian towre, Out of her mountains ministred supplies,

Did happy wind and weather entertain, And like a kindly nurse did yield (for spight) And with good specd the foamy billows scour : Store of firebronds out of her nurseries

No sign of storm, no fear of future pain, Unto her foster children, that they might

Which soon ensued them with heavy floure ; Inflame the navy of their enemies,

Nereis to the seas a token gave, And all the Rhætean shore to ashes turn,

The whijes their crooked keels the surges clave. Where lay the ships which they did seek to burn.

LXXII.
LXV.

Suddenly, whether through the godi's decree, 'Gainst which the noble fon of Telamon

Or hapless rising of some froward Itar, Oppor'd himself, and thwarting his huge shield, The heavens on every fide criclouded be : Them batcel bad; gainst whom appear'd anon Black storms and fogs are blowen up from far, Hector, the glory of the Trojan field :

That now the pilot can no load-ftar see, Both fierce and furious in contention

But skies and seas do make most dreadful war ; Encountred, that their mighty strokes so fhrild, The billows striving to the heavens to reach, As the great clap of thunder which doch rive And th' heavens striving them for to empeach. The ratling heavens, and clouds afunder drive.

And in avengement of their hold attempi, So th' one with fire and weapons did contend Both sun and Itars, and all the heaverly powrc), To cut the ships, from turning home again Conspire in one to wreak their rash contempt, To Argos, th’ others strove for to defend

And down on them to fall from highes towres; The force of Vulcan with his might and main. The sky io pieces secming to be rent, Thus th' one Æacide, did his fame extend, Throws lightning forth, and hail, and harmful But th' other joy'd that on the Phrygian plain,

fhowres. Having the blood of vanquish'd Hector lheci, That death on every side to them appears He compass'd Troy thrice with his body ded. In thousand forms, to work more ghaltly fears.

LXVII.
Again great dole on either party grew,

Some in the greedy floods are funk and drent, That him to death unfaithful Paris sent;

Some on the rocks of Caphareus are thrown; And alio him that false Ulysses fiew,

Some on th' Euboick cliffs in pieces rent, Drawn into danger through close ambashment : Some scat:ee'd on the Herczzo Moros unknown ;

LXXI.

LXIV.

LXXIII.

LXVI.

I.XIV.

LXXV.

LXXXII.

LXXVI.

LXXXIII.

And many loft, of whom no moniment

Thus having said, he heavily departed Remains, nor memory is to be shown;

With pitcous cry, that any would have smarted. Whilst all the purchase of the Phrygian prey,

LXXXI. Toft on sale billows, round about doth stray Now when the floathful fit of life's sweet reft

Had left the heavy shepheard, wondrous cares Here many other like heroes be,

His inly grieved mind full sore opprest, Equal in honour to the former crue,

That båleful forrow he no longer bears Whom ye in goodly fcats may placed fee, For that Gnat's death, which deeply was impreft, Descended all from Rome by linage due;

But bends whatever power his aged years
Fron Rome, that holds the world in sovereignty, Him lent, yet being such, as though their might
Aud doth all nations unto her subdue :

He lately flew his dreadful foe in tight,
Her Fabij and Decij do dwell,
Horatij, that in vertue did excell.

By that same river lurking under green.

Eftfoons he 'gins to fashion forth a place, And here the antique fame of stout Camill, And Iquaring it in compass well beseen, Doch ever live, and constant Curtius,

There plotteth out a tomb by measured space : Who, ftifly bent his vowed life to spill

His yron-headed spade tho' making clean, For country's health, a gulf most hideous

To dig up fods out of the flowrie grass, Amidst the town with bis own corps did fill, His work he sho to good purpose brought, Tappease the powers; and prudent Mutius, Like as he had conceiv'd it in his thought. Who in his flesh endur'd the scorching flame, To daune his foe by ensample of the fame. An heap of earth he hoorded up or high, LXXVII.

Enclosing it with banks on every side, And here wise Curius, his companion

And thereupon did raise full busily Of noble vercues, lives in endless rest,

A little mount, of green turfs edilide; And Ibout Flaminius, whose devotion

And on the top of all, thai paffers by Taught him the fire's scorn'd fury to deteft ; Might it behold, the tomb he did provide And here the praise of either Scipion

of imootheft marble-stone, in order fet, Abides in highest place above the best,

That never might his lucky scape forget.
To whom the ruin'd walls of Carthage vow'd;
Trembling, their forces found their praises loud. And round about he taught sweet flowres to grow,

The rose, engroined in pure scarlet dye,
Live they for ever through their lasting praise; The lilly freih, and violet below,
But I, poor wretch ! am forced to return

The marigold, and chearful rosemary,
To the sad lakes that Phæbus' funny rays

The Spartan myrtle, whence sweet gum due Do never see, where souls do always mourn,

flow,
And by the wailing shures to waste my days, The purple hyacinth, and fresh costmary,
Where Phlegeton with quenchless flames doth And faffron, fought for in Cilician foil,
burn,

And laurel, th' ornament of Phæbus' toil;
By which just Minos righteous svuls doth sever
From wicked ones, to live in bliss for ever. Fresh Rhododaphne, and the sabine flowre

Matching the wealth of th' antient frankincence
Me therefore thus the cruel fiends of hell, And pallid ivy, building his own bowire,
Girt with long snakes and thousand yron chains, And box, yet mindfull of his old oficnce,
Through doom of that their cruel judge, compel Red amaganthus, luckless paramour,
With bitter torture and impatient pains,

Ox-eye still green, and bitter patience;
Cause of my death, and just complaint to tell: Ne wants there pale Narciss, that in a well
For thou are he whom my poor ghost complains Seeing his beauty, in love with it fell.
To be the author of her ill unwarcs,
That careless hear'lt my intollerable cares. And whatsoever other flowre of worth,

And whatso other berb of lovely hue
Them therefore, as bequeathing to the wind, The joyous Spring out of the ground brings forth,
I now depart, returning to thee never,

To clo:ne her relf in colours fresi and new, And leave this lamentable plaint behind;

He planted there, and rear'd a wount of carth, But do thou haunt the soft down-rolling river, In whose high front was writ as doth ensue; And wild green woods, and fruitfull pastures To thee, smell Gnat, in lieu of his life saved, mind,

Tbe foepberd bath tãy death's record engracad. And let the flitting air my vain words fever."

LXXXIV

LXXVIU.

LXXXIV.

LXXIX.

LXXXVI.

LXXX.

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This Æglogue is a soliloque of Colin Clout, by which name the Poet means himself; complaining of

his unprosperous love of Rosalind; and comparing his condition to that of his wretched weather. beaten flock, and to the rigorous season of the year.

COLIN CLOUT.

A SHEPHERD's bny (no better do him call),
When winter's wattefull spight was almoft fpont,
All in a sunshine day, as did befall,
Let forth his flock, that had been long ypent;
So faint they wox, and feeble in the fold,
That now uneathes their fect could thom uphold.

All as the sheep, such was the shepherd's look,
For pale and wan he was, (alas the while :)
May seen he lov'd, or else some care he took;
Well colith he tune his pipe and frame his file :
Though to a hill his fainting flock he led,
And thus he plain'd, the while his Sheep there

fcd :

6 Ye gols of love! that pity lovers pain

Thou weak, I wan ; thou lean, I quite forlorn: (If any gods the pain of lovers pity),

With mourning pine ); you with pining moura. Look from above, where you in joys remain, And bow your ears unto my dulefull ditty. A thousand fithes I curse that careful hour And, Pan! thou shepherd's god, that once did wherein I long the neighbour town to see, love,

And eke ten thousand fithes I bless the stour Pity the pains that thou thyself didît prove. Wherein I saw so fair a sight as she :

Yet all for naught : such fight hath bred my bane, Thou barren ground, whom winter's wrath hath Ah, God! that love should breed both joy and watted,

pain ! Art made a mirror to behold my plight; Whylom thy fresh spring flower'd, and after haft- It is not Pobbinol wherefore I plain, ed,

Albe my love he seek with daily suit : Thy Summer proud, with daffadillies dight, His clownish gifts and courtesies I disdain, And now is come thy Winter's stormy state, His kids, his cracknels, and his early fruit. Thy mantle marr'd wherein thou malkedft late. Ah, foolish Hobbino! thy gifts been vain ;

Colin them gives to Rosalind again. Such rage as winter reigneth in my heart, My lifc-blood freezing with unkindly cold; I love thilk lass (alas! why do I love ?) Such stormy stours do breed my balefull smart, And am forlorn, (alas ! why am I lorn?) As if my years were waste and woxen old; She deigns not my good will, but both reprove, And yet, alas! but now my spring begun, And of my rural music holdeth scorn. And yet, alas! it is already done.

Shepherd's device she hateth as the snake,

And laughs the songs that Colin Clout doth You naked trees, whose shady leaves are lot,

make, Wherein the birds were wont to build their bower,

Wherefore, my Pipe, albe rude Pan thou please, And now are cloath'd with moss and hoary frost, Yet for thou pleasest not where most I would, Instead of blosms, wherewith your buds did And thou unlucky Muse, that wontft to ease flower,

My musing mind, yet canst not when thog I see your tears that from your boughs do rain,

should; Whose drops in drery isicles remain.

Both pipe and Muse shall the while abie."

So broke his oaten pipe, and down did lie.
Also my luftfull leafe is dry and fear,
My timely buds with wailing all are wasted; By that the welked Phæbus' gan avail
The blofionis which my branch of youth did His weary wain, and now the frosty Night
bcar,

Her mantle black through heaven 'gan over-hale;
With breathed fighs is blown away and blafted; Which seen, the penfive boy, half in despight,
And from mine eyes the drizling tears descend, Arose, and homeward drove his sullen Theep,
As on your boughs the isicles depend.

Whose hanging heads did seem his careful case to

weep.
Thou feeble Flock! whose fleece is rough and
rent,

COLIN'S EMBLEM.
Whose knces are weak through fast and evil fare,
Maist witncls well, by thy ill government,
T'hy master's mind is overcome with care :

Anchora fpemes

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