I.

THE early morn lets out the peeping day,
And ftrew'd his paths with golden marigolds:
The moon grows wan, and ftars flie all away,
Whom Lucifer locks up in wonted folds

Till light is quench'd, and heav'n in feas
hath flung

The headlong day-to th' hill the fhepherds throng,

And Thirfil now began to end his task and song.

11.

Who now, alas! fhall teach my humble vein,

That never yet durft peep from covert glade, But foftly learnt for fear to figh and plain, And vent her griefs to filent myrtle's shade?

Who now shall teach to change my oaten quill For trumpet 'larms, or humble verfes fill With graceful majesty, and lofty rising skill ?

111.

Ah, thou dread spirit! fhed thy holy fire,
Thy holy flame into my frozen heart;
Teach thou my creeping measures to afpire,
And fwell in bigger notes, and higher art:

Teach my low mufe thy fierce alarms to ring, And raise my foft ftrain to high thundering: Tune thou my lofty fong; thy battles muft I fing.

IV.

Such as thou wert within the facred breaft

Of that thrice famous poet, fhepherd, king; And taught'ft his heart to frame his cantos best Of all that e'er thy glorious works did fing:

Or as thofe holy fishers, once amongs
Thou flamedft bright with fparkling parted
tongues;

And brought'ft down heav'n to earth in thofe all-conqu'ring fengs.

These mighty heroes, fill'd with juftest rage
To be in narrow walls fo clofely pent,
Glitt'ring in arms, and goodly equipage,
Stood at the caftle's gate, now ready bent
To fally-out, and meet the enemy:
A hot difdain fparkled in every eye,
Breathing out hateful war, and deadly enmity.

VI.

Thither repairs the careful intelle&

With his fair fpoufe Voletta, heav'nly fair : With both, their daughter; whose divine afpect, Though now fad damps of forrow much impair,

Yet through those clouds did shine fo glorious bright,

That every eye did homage to the fight, Yielding their captive hearts to that commanding light.

VII.

But who may hope to paint fuch majefty, Or fhadow well fuch beauty, fuch a face; Such beaut'ous face, unfeen to mortal eye? Whofe pow'rful looks, and more than mortal grace [throne, Love's felf hath lov'd, leaving his heav'nly With amorous fighs, and many a lovely mean (Whom all the world would woo) woo'd her his only one.

VIII.

Far be that boldness from thy humble fwain,
Fairest Ectecta, to defcribe thy beauty,
And with unable fkill thy glory ftain,
Which ever he admires with humble duty:
But who to view fuch blaze of beauty longs,
Go he to Sinai, th' holy groves amongs;
Where that wife fhepherd chants her in his fong
of lungs.

IX.

The Ifland's King with fober countenance

Aggrates the knights who thus his right defended;

And with grave fpeech, and comely amenance, Himfelf, his ftate, his fpoufe, to them commended:

His lovely child, that by him penûve stands, He laf delivers to their valiant hands; And her to thank the knights, her champions, he commands.

X.

The God-like maid awhile all filent flood,

And down to th' earth let fall her humble eyes; While modeft thoughts fhot up the flaming blood, Which fir'd her fcarlet cheek with rofy dyes:

But foon to quench the heat, that lorldly reigns,

From her fair eye a show'r of crystal rains, Which with his Gilver ftreams, o'er-runs the beatt'ous plains.

XI.

As when the fun in midst of fummer's heat
Draws up thin vapours with his potent ray,
Forcing dull waters from their native feat;
At length dim clouds fhadow the burring day-

blind.