Prothalamion Or A spousal Verse made by Edm. Spenser. IN honour OF THE double marriage of the two honourable & virtuous Ladies, the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Katherine Somerset, Daughters to the Right Honourable the Earl of Worcester and espoused to the two worthy Gentlemen M. Henry Gilford, and M. William Peter esquires.  
AT LONDON. Printed for William Ponsonby. 1596.   


1 Prothalamion.  
Calm was the day, and through the trembling air.  
Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play  
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay  
Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair:  
When I whom sullen care,  
Through discontent of my long fruitless stay  
In Prince's Court, and expectation vain  
Of idle hopes, which still do fly away,  
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain,  
Walked forth to ease my pain  
Along the shore of silver streaming Themmes,  
Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems,  
Was painted all with variable flowers,  
And all the meads adorned with dainty gems,  
Fit to deck maidens bowers,  
And crown their Paramours,  
Against the bridal day, which is not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my Song.   

2 Prothalamion.  
There, in a Meadow, by the rivers side,  
A flock of nymphs I chanced to espy,  
All lovely Daughters of the Flood thereby,  
With goodly greenish locks all lose untyde,  
As each had been a bride,  
And each one had a little wicker basket,  
Made of fine twigs entrayled curiously,  
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket:  
And with fine Fingers, cropped full feateously  
The tender stalks on high.  
Of every sort, which in that Meadow grew,  
They gathered some; the Violet pallid blue,  
The little daisy, that at evening closes,  
The virgin Lillie, and the Primrose true,  
With store of vermilion Roses,  
To deck their bridegrooms posies,  
Against the bridal day, which was not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my Song.   

3 Prothalamion.  
With that I saw two swans of goodly hew,  
Come softly swimming down along the Lee;  
Two fairer birds I yet did never see:  
The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew,  
Did never whiter show,  
Nor Jove himself when he a Swan would be  
For love of Leda, whiter did appear:  
Yet Leda was they say as white as he,  
Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near;  
So purely white they were,  
That even the gentle stream, the which them bore,  
Seemed foul to them, and bad his billows spare  
To wet their silken feathers, lest they might  
Soil their fair plumes with water not so fair,  
And mar their beauties bright,  
That shone as heavens light,  
Against their bridal day, which was not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my Song.   

4 Prothalamion.  
eftsoons the nymphs, which now had Flowers their fill,  
Ran all in haste, to see that silver brood,  
As they came floating on the crystal Flood,  
Whom when they saw, they stood amazed still,  
Their wondering eyes to fill,  
Them seemed they never saw a sight so fair,  
Of fowls so lovely, that they sure did deem  
Them heavenly borne, or to be that same pair  
Which through the sky draw Venus' silver Teeme,  
For sure they did not seem  
To be begot of any earthly seed,  
But rather Angels or of Angels breed:  
Yet were they bred of Somers-heat they say,  
In sweetest Season, when each Flower and weed  
The earth did fresh array,  
So fresh they seemed as day,  
Even as their bridal day, which was not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly till I end my Song.   

5 Prothalamion.  
Then forth they all out of their baskets drew,  
Great store of Flowers, the honour of the field,  
That to the sense did fragrant odours yield,  
All which upon those goodly Birds they threw,  
And all the waves did strew,  
That like old Peneus Waters they did seem,  
When down along by pleasant Tempe's shore  
Scattered with flowers, through Thessaly they streeme,  
That they appear through lilies plenteous store,  
Like a bride's Chamber flore:  
Two of those nymphs, mean while, two Garlands bound,  
Of freshest flowers which in that Mead they found,  
The which presenting all in trim Array,  
Their snowy Foreheads therewithal they crowned,  
Whilst one did sing this Lay,  
Prepared against that Day,  
Against their bridal day, which was not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly till I end my Song.   

6 Prothalamion.  
Ye gentle birds, the world's fair ornament,  
And heavens glory, whom this happy hour  
Doth lead unto your lovers blissful bower,  
joy may you have and gentle hearts content  
Of your loves couplement:  
And let fair Venus, that is Queen of love,  
With her heart-quelling son upon you smile,  
Whose smile they say, hath virtue to remove  
All loves dislike, and friendships faulty guile  
For ever to assoil.  
Let endless Peace your steadfast hearts accord,  
And blessed plenty wait upon you board,  
And let your bed with pleasures chaste abound,  
That fruitful issue may to you afford,  
Which may your foes confound,  
And make your joys redound,  
Upon your bridal day, which is not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my Song.   

7 Prothalamion.  
So ended she; and all the rest around  
To her redoubled that her under song,  
Which said, their bridal day should not be long.  
And gentle echo from the neighbour ground,  
Their accents did resound?  
So forth, those joyous birds did pass along,  
Adown the Lee, that to them murmurde low,  
As he would speak, but that he lacked a tongue  
yet did by signs his glad affection show,  
Making his stream run slow.  
And all the foul which in his flood did dwell  
'Gan flock about these twain, that did excel  
The rest, so far, as Cynthia doth shend  
The lesser stars. So they enranged well,  
Did on those two attend,  
And their best service lend,  
Against their wedding day, which was not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my song.   

8 Prothalamion.  
At length they all to merry London came,  
To merry London, my most kindly Nurse,  
That to me gave, this life's first native source:  
Though from another place I take my name,  
An house of ancient fame.  
There when they came, whereas those bricky towers,  
The which on Themmes broad aged back do ride,  
Where now the studious Lawyers have their bowers  
There whilom wont the templar Knights to bide,  
Till they decayed through pride:  
Next whereunto there stands a stately place,  
Where oft I gained gifts and goodly grace  
Of that great Lord, which therein wont to dwell,  
Whose want too well, now feels my freendles case:  
But Ah here fits not well  
Old woes but joys to tell  
Against the bridal day which is not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly till I end my Song.   

9 Prothalamion.  
Yet therein now doth lodge a noble Peer,  
Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder,  
Whose dreadful name, late through all Spain did thunder.  
And Hercules two pillars standing near,  
Did make to quake and fear:  
Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry,  
That fillest England with thy triumphs fame,  
joy have thou of thy noble victory,  
And endless happiness of thine own name  
That promiseth the same:  
That through thy prowess and victorious arms,  
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms:  
And great Elisa's glorious name may ring  
Through all the world, filled with thy wide alarms,  
Which some brave muse may sing  
To ages following,  
Upon the bridal day, which is not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly till I end my Song.   

10 Prothalamion.  
From those high Towers, this noble Lord issuing,  
Like Radiant Hesper when his golden hair  
In th' Ocean billows he hath Bathed fair,  
Descended to the rivers open viewing,  
With a great train ensuing.  
Above the rest were goodly to be seen  
Two gentle Knights of lovely face and feature  
Beseeming well the bower of any Queen,  
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,  
Fit for so goodly stature:  
That like the twins of Jove they seemed in sight,  
Which deck the Bauldricke of the heavens bright,  
They two forth pacing to the rivers side,  
Received those two fair Brides, their loves delight,  
Which at th'appointed tide,  
Each one did make his bride,  
Against their bridal day, which is not long:  
Sweet Themmes run softly, till I end my Song.   
FINIS.