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And when your maws are with those weeds cor& So oft as I record those piening words,

rupted, Which yet are deep engraven in my brest, Be ye the prey of wolves; ne will I rue And chose last deadly accents, which like swords That with your car kasses wild bealts be glutted. Did wound my heart, and rend my bleeding chest,

“ Ne worse to you, my filly Sheep! I pray, With those sweet fugred speeches do compare, Ne sorer vengeance with on you to fall The which my soul first conquer'd and posseft, Than to my felf, for whose confus'd decay The first beginners of my endless care!

To careless Heavens I do daily call;

But Heavens refuse to hear a wretch's cry, " And when those pallid cheeks and athie hue, And cruel Death doth scorn to come at call, In which fad death his portraiture had writ,


this boon that most defires to die.
And when thote hollow eyes and deadly view,
On which the cloud of ghastly Night did fit, " The good and righteous he away doth take,
I match with that sweet smile and chearful brow. To plague th' unrighteous which alive remain,
Which all the world subdued unto it,

But the ungodly ones he doth forsake, How happy was I then, and wretched now? By living long to multiply their pain;

Else furely death should be no punishment, How happy was I, when I saw her lead

As the great judge at first did it ordain, The Shepherds' daughters dauncing in a round? But rather riddance from long languishoient. How trimly would the trace and softly tread The tender grass, with rosie garland crown'd? “ Therefore, my Daphne, they have tane away, And when she list advaunce her heavenly voice, For worthy of a betrer place was she, Both nymphs and Mofes nigh he made altown'd, But me unworthy willed here to stay, And docks and shepherds caused to rejoyce. That with her lack I might tormented be.

Sith then they so have ordered, I will pay “ But now, ye shepherd Lasses ! who shall lead Penance to her, according their decree, Your wandring troups, or sing your virelays ? And to her ghost do service day by day. Or who shall dighe your bowres, lith ihe is dead 'That was the lady of your holy-days?

“ For I will walk this wandering pilgrimage, Let now your bliss be turned into bale,

Throughout the world from one to other end, And into plaints convert your joyous plays,

And in amiction walte my bitter age :
And with the famc fill every hill and dale. My bread fhall be the anguish of my mind,

My drink the tears which from mine eyes do " Let bagpipe never more be heard to fhrill,

rain, That may allure the senses to delight,

My bed the ground that hardest I may find; Ne ever shepherd sound his oaren quill

So will I wilfully increase my pain.
Unto the many that provoke them might
To idle pleasance, but let ghastliness

“ And The, my love that was, my saint that is, And dreary horror dim the chearful light,

When she behrlds from her celestial throne To make the image of true heaviness ;

(In which she joyeth in eternal bliss)

My bitter penance, will my case bemone, « Let birds be silent on the naked spray,

And pity me that living thus to die; And shady woods resound with dreadfull yells;

For heavenly spirits have compaflion
Let streaming floods their hafty courses stay,

On mortal men, and rue their misery.
And parching drouih dry up the crystal wells;
Let th' earth be barren, and bring forth no

" So when I have with sorrow satisfide
And the air be fill'd with noise of dolcful knells,

Th' importune Fates, which vengeance on me

seek, And wandering spirits walk untimely houres.

And th' heavens with long languor pacifide, 66 And Nature, nurse of every living thing,

She for pure pity of my sufferance meek, Let rest herself from her long weariness,

Will send for me, for which I daily long, And cease henceforth things kindly forth to bring, And will till then my painful penance ekc. But hideous monsters full of ugliness;

Weep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersong. For the it is that hath me done this wrong, No nurse, but stepdame, cruel, merciless Weep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersong.

“ Henceforth I hate whatever Nature made, And in her workmanship no pleasure find,

For they be all but vain, and quickly fade ; * My little flock, whom eart I lov'd so well,

So soon as on them blows the northern wiod, And wont to feed with fineft grass that grew,

They tarry not, but fit and fall away, Feed ye henceforth on bitter Astrofell,

Leaving behind them nought but grief of mind, And Itinking (mallage and unsavory rue; And mocking fuch as think they long will stay,

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I hate the Heaven, because it doth with-hold “ Yet whilft I in this wretched vale do ftay, Me from my love, and eke my love from me; My weary feet shall ever wandring be, I hate the earth, because it is the mould

That still I may be ready on my way, of fiehly slime and frail mortality;

When as her messenger doth come for me; I hate the fire, because to nought it flies;

Ne will I rest my feet for feebleness, I hate the air, becauíc fighs of it be;

Ne will I reft my limbs for frachty, I hate the sea, because it tears supplies.

Ne will I rest mine eyes for heaviness, * I hate the day, because it lendeth light “ But as the mother of the gods, that sought To see all things, and not not my love to see ; For fair Eurydice, her daughter dear, I hare the darkness and the dreary nighe, Throughout the world, with woeful heavy thought Because they breed sad balefulness in me;

So will I travel whilst i tarty here, I hate all times, because all tin:es do fly

Ne will I lodge, ne will I ever lin, So falt away, and may not ftayed be,

Ne when as drvuping Titan draweth near, But as a speedy poll that pafleth by.

To loose his teem, will I take up ny inn. * I hate to speak, my voice is spent with crying ; “ Ne fleep (the harhenger of weary wights) I hate to hear, loud plaints have dull'd mine cars; Shall ever lodge upon mine eye-lids mort : I hate to taste, for food with-holds my dying; Ne shall with relt refresh my fainting sprights, I hate to fec, mine eyes are dimm'd with tears; Nor failing force to former ftrength restore; I hate to smell, no fweet on earth is left;

But I will wake and sorrow all the night
I hate to feel, my fleth is numm'd with fears; With Philomel my fortune to deplore;
So all my fenses from me are bereft.

With Philomel, the partner of my plight.
I hate all men, and shun all womankind; “ And ever as I see the star to fall,
The one, because as I they wretched are ;

And under ground to go to give them light The other, for because I do not sind

Which dwell in darkness, I to mind will call My love with them that wont to be their star : How my fair flar (that shind on me fo bright) And life I hate, because it will not last;

Fell suddainly and faded under ground, And death I hate, because it life doch mar; Since whose departure day is turn'd to night, And all I hate that is to come or paft.

And night without a Venus' ftar is found. *. So all the world, and all in it I hate,

“ But as soon as Day doth shew his dewie face, Because it changeth ever to and fro,

And calls forth nien unto their toyllom trade, And never flandeth in one certain state,

I will withdraw me to fome darksom place, But ftill unstedfast, round about doch go

Or some dear cave, or solitary shade; Like a mill-wheel, in niidst of miscry,

There will I sigh, and sorrow all day long, Driven with streams of wretchedness and woe, And the huge burden of my cares unlade. That dying lives, and living fill dues dic.

Wcep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersong So do I live, fo do 1 daily die, And pine away in self-consuming pain ;

“ Henceforth mine eyes shall nerer more behold Sith the that did my vital powers supply,

Fair things on earth, ne fced on salse delight And feeble fpirits in their force maintain,

Of ought that framed is of mortal inould, Is fetcht from me, why seck I to prolong

Sith that my faireft Lowre is faded quight; My weary days in dolour and disdain ?

For all I fee is vain and transitory, Weep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersong. Ne will be held in any fedfast plight,

But in a moment lose their grace and glory. "Why do I longer live in life's despight, p" And ye, fond Men! on Fortune's wheel that ride, And do not die then in despight of death ; Or in ought under heaven repose affurance, Why do I longer see this loathsom light,

Be it ricies, beauty, or honour's pride, And do in darkness not abridge my breath, Be sure that they shall have no long endurance, Sith all my sorrow should have end thereby, But ere ye be aware will fiit away ; And cares find quiet? is it so uncath

For nought of them is yours, but th' only psance To leave this life, or dolorous to die?

Of a small time, which none as certain may.



* To live I find it deadly dolorous,
For life draws care, and care continual woe;
Therefore to die muft iceds be joyous,
And wishful thing this fad life to foregoe :
But I must stay; I may it not amend,
My Daphne hence departing bade me so;
She bade me stay till the for me did send.

“ And ye, true Lovers! whom defastrous chaunce
Hath far exiled from your ladies grace,
To mourn in sorrow and fad (uslerance,
When ye do hear me in that defert place
Lamenting loud my Daphne's elegy,
Help me to wail my miserable cale.
And when life parts vouchlafe to close mine cra

And ye, more happy Lovers! which enjoy Thus when he ended had his heavy plaint,
The presence of your dearest love's delight, The heaviest plaint that ever I heard found,
When ye do hear my sorrowful annoy,

His cheeks wext pale, and sprights began to faint, iet pity me in your empassion'd spright,

As if again he would have fall'n to ground; Ind think that such mishap, as chaunst to me, Which when I saw, (I stepping to him light) May happen unto the most happy wight, Amooyed him out of his stony swound, for all mens ftates alike unftedfast be.

And 'gan him to recomfort as I might. And ye, my fellow shepherds! which do feed But he no way recomforted would be, Pour careless fucks on hills and open plains, Nor suffer folace to approach him nie, Vith better fortune than did me fucceed,

But casting up a sdeignful eye at me, Lemember yet my undeserved pains ;

That in his traunce I would not let him lie, And when ye bear that I am dead or Dain, Did rend his hair, and beat his blubbred face. ament my lot, and tell your fellow-Swains As one disposed willfully to die, That sad Alcyon dy'd in life's disdain.

That i sore griev'd to see his wretched case. And ye, fair Damsels! Thepherds' dear delights, Tho when the pang was somewhat over-past, Chat with your loves do their rude hearts possess, And the outrageous passion nigh appeased, Whenas my hearse shall happen to your sights, I him desir’d, sith day was over-cast, Pouchsafe to deck the same with cypress;

And dark night fast approached, to be pleased ind ever sprinkle brackish tears among,

To turn aside unto my cabinet, a pity of my undeserv’d distress,

And stay with me till he were better eased "he which I, wretch, endured have thus long. Of that strong found which him sore beset. And ye, poor Pilgrims! that with restless toyl But by no means I could him win thereto, Veary yourselves in wandring desart ways,

Ne longer him intreat with me to stay, "ill that ye come where ye your vows assoil, But without taking leave he forth did go ihen patřing by ye read these woful lays With staggering pace and dismal looks' dismay, In my grave written, rue my Daphnc's wrong, As if that Death he in the face bad seen, und mourn for me that languish out my days. Or hellish hags had met upon the way: zale, Shepherd ! ceale, and end thy underlong." But wbat of him became I cannot ween.

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Shepherds! that wont on pipes of oaten reed
Oft-times to plain your loves concealed smart,
And with your piteous lays have learn'd to breed
Compassion in a country lass's heart,
Hearken, ye gentle Shepherds ! to my song,
And place my doleful plaint your plaints emong.
'To you alone I sing this mournful verse,
The mournful'&t verse that ever man heard tell;
To you whose softned hearts it may empierce
With Dolour's dart, for death of Astrophel ;
To you I sing, and to none other wight,
For well I wote my rymes been rudely dight.

Yet as they been, if any nicer wit
Shall hap to hear, or covet them to read,
Think he that such are for such ones most fit,
Made not to please the living but the dead ;
And if in him found pity ever place,
Let him be mov'd to pity such a case.

A GENTLE shepherd, born in Arcady,
Of gentlest race that ever shepherd bore,
About the grassy banks of Hæmony
Did keep his sheep, his little stock and store :
Full carefully he kept them day and night
In fairest fields, and Astrophel he hight.

Young Astrophel! the pride of Shepherds' praise,
Young Astrophel ! the ruftick lasses love,
For passing all the pastors of his days,
In all that seemly thepherds might behove;
In one thing only failing of the best,
That he was not so happy as the rest.

or from the time that first the nymph his mother Ne her with idle words alone he wooed, lim forth did bring, and taught her lambs to And verses vain, (yet verses are not vain) feed,

But with brave deeds to her sole service vowed, fender (wain, excelling for each other

And bold atchievements her did entertain ; comely shape, like her that did him breed, For both in deeds and words he noutred was, e grew up (aft in goodness and in grace, Both wife and hardy, (too hardy, alas :) nd doubly fair wox both in mind and face ;

In wrestiing nimble, and in running swift ; "hich daily more and more he did augmene In shooting freddy, and in swimming strong : ith gentle usage and demeanure mild,

Well made to strike, to throw, to leap, to lift, hat all mens hearts with secret ravilhment And all the sports that shepherds are enoug. : stole away, and wectingly beguil'd;

In every one he vanquisht every one, : Spight it self, that all good things doth spill, He vanquisht all, and vanquisht was of nonc. und out in him that the could say was ill.

Besides, in hunting such felicity, is sports were fair, his joyance innocent,

Or rather infclicity, he found, 'ect withont fowre, and honey without gall;

That overy field and forest far away id he himself seem'd made for merriment,

He fought, where salvage beasts do most abonnd : errily making both in bower and hall :

No beatts so salvage but he could it kill, ere was no pleasure nor delightful play

No chace lo hard but he therein had skill. len Astrophel lo.ever was away.

Such f:ill, matcht with such courage as he had, he could pipe and dance, and carol sweet Dic. prick him forth with proud desire of praise ongst the shepherds in their fhearing feast, To leck abroad, of danger Rought ydrad, fommer's lark, that with her song doth grect

His mistress' name and his own fame to raise. : dawning day, forth coming from the eait :

What needeth peril to be fought abroad, lages of love he also could compose ;

Sith round about us it doth make aboad? Lice happy ine whom he to praife did chose.

It cortuned as he that perilous game | many maidens often did him woo

in forein foil pursued far away, on to vouchsafe emongit his rimes to dame,

Into a foreft wide and waste he came, make for them, as he was wont to do

Where store he herd to be of falvage prey : her that did his heart with love inflame;

So wide a forcit, and so wafle as this, which they promised to dight for him

Nor famous Ardeyn nor foul Arlo is. chapelets of flowers and girlonds trim.

There his well-woven toyls and subtil trains I many a nymph, both of the wood and brook, He laid, the brutiih nation to enwrap; o as his oaten pipe began to Shrill,

So well he wrought with practice and with h crystal wells and sady groves forsook,

pains, hear the charms of his enchanting skill,

That he of them great troups did foon entrap : I brought him presents, flowers if it were

Fall happy man (misiveening much) was he, prime,

So rich a ipoyl within his power to sec. arellow fruit, is it were harvest-time.

Eftfoones all heedless of his dearest hale, he for none of them did care a whit,

Full greedily into the herd he thrust, wood-gods for them often lighed fire ; Po flaugh:er them, and work their final bale, for their gifts, unworthy of his wit,

Lift that his toys thould of their troups be built. cot unworthy of the country's store :

Wide wourds emongit them many a one alone he car'd, for one he ligh’d,

made, Lic's defire, and his duar love's deliglit. Now with his sharp-boar spear, now with his

biade. la the fair! the faireít star in sky, Fair as Venus, or the fairelt jair,

His care was all how he them all might kill, iairer fear faw never living eye)

That none irighe fupe (so partial unto none) ther sharp-pointed beans through purest uir : I!! mind, f» much to mind another's ill, he did love, her he alone did honour,

As to become unmindful of his own : thoughts, his rimes, his congs, were all upon But pardon unto the cruci fkyes, ber.

Thit from himself to them withdrew his eyes. her he vow'd the firvice of his c'ayo,

Co as he ray'd emongst that beastly, rou:, he spent the riches of his wit,

A cruc beast of niost accused brood, ser be made hymn of immortil praise, I pon him turn’d (defpair makes cowards fiou ) n'y ner he sung, he thougit, he ure: Ara with fell tooth, accustomed to blood, , and but her, of livel: wetubos decide 1zurced thigh with so nrischievous night, all the reli but little he calculea.

That it turh burie and muscles rired ques.

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