AN EGLOGVE Upon the death of the Right Honourable Sir Francis Walsingham Late principal Secretary to her Majesty, and of her most Honourable Privy Council.  
Written first in latin by Thomas Watson Gentle man, and now by himself translated into English.  Musis mendicantibus insultat 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
AT LONDON, Printed by Robert Robinson. 1590.   

To the most virtuous Lady, Lady Francis Sidney, all honour and happiness.  
MAdam, under the Patronage of M. Thomas walsingham I published a Latin Funeral poem, where with a pastoral Muse I undertake (in love and duty) to commend the virtuous life, and bewail the untimely death of our great Meliboeus the right honourable Sir Francis Walsingham, your late deceased Father, a sound pillar of our common wealth, and chief patron of virtue, learning, and chivalry. In which poem albeit I never attain the height of his worthiness, yet many (rather affecting his praise, than my verse) have requested and persuaded me to publish Meliboeus in English, for the more general understanding thereof: that as his life was to all men both pleasing and profitable, so his death might be honoured with a public sorrow: & that the whole body of this realm, in lamenting the loss of so vigilant a governor, might learn thereby, (as by a just necessity) the more to love, honour, and obey those few, that yet survive, resembling him in high estate, and virtuous condition. Such as the translation is, I humbly offer it to your ladyships protection, hoping it will be as favourably red & accepted, as it is affectionately written and presented.  
Your Ladyships in all duty Thomas Watson.   

To the courteous Reader.  
GEntlemen, if you suppose me vain, for translating mine own poem: or negligent, for not doing it exactly to the latin original, I thus desire to satisfy you. It is pardonable for a man to be bold with his own: And I interpret myself, lest Melibaeus in speaking English by an other man's labour, should lose my name in his change, as my Amyntas did. A third fault (haply) will be found, that my pastoral discourse to the unlearned may seem obscure: which to prevent, I have thought good, here to advertise you, that I figure England in Arcadia; Her Majesty in Diana; Sir Francis Walsingham in Meliboeus, and his Lady in Dryas; Sir Phillippe Sidney in Astrophill, and his Lady in Hyale, Master Thomas Walsingham in Tityrus, and myself in Corydon.  
Desirous to please you Tho. Watson.   

AN EGLOGVE Upon the death of the Right Honourable Sir Francis Walsingham late principal Secretary to her Majesty, and of her most Honourable Privy Council.  Corydon. Tityrus. 
Now Tityrus, since we at ease are lad,  
And both our flocks o'erspread the flowery plain:  
Sweet friend unfold under this platan shade  
The secret cause of thy concealed pain,  
How haps thy sighing threats the cleared sky, with gentle Zephyr waging often wars,  
Whose Muse of yoare with honey melody, did calm fierce winds, & cease their boisterous jars?  
What means this morning weed? thy weeping eine? thy pale aspect? thy murmuring complaints?  
O speak, that I may join my tears with thine, and ease thy burdened heart before it faints.  Tityrus. 
O Corydon forbear by deep inquire to rip the skarred wounds of my unrest:  
No tears, no counsel can abate the fire, which loving sorrow kindles in my breast.  
I all alone in darkesom unkoth place, I all alone must like the Turtle Dove,  
Whose joy is slain, bewail my wretched case, and power out plaints against the gods above,  Corydon. 
By sylvan nymphs, and lovely Graces three, that on our lawns do sport them to and fro;  
By country powers of what so ere degree; by Flora's chaplet; by Diana's boe,  
By fruitful Pales, Ceres' wheaten crown, by silver Thamesis old Ocean's dame;  
By changed Amintas flower, that decks the down; and lastly by Elisa's virtuous name,  
By these, and those that guide celestial spheres, I here conjure thee to difcloase thy grief,  
That I may slake thy sighing with my tears, whose comforts oft have bred my heart's relief.  Tityrus. 
Then thus (though loath) as grief will suffer me, my faltering tongue shall tell my discontent:  
That cares by sympathy may work on thee, And thou uphold some part of my lament.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.  
Now Corydon (for every shepherd swain reports thee skilful in a sacred verse)  
In such a meeter help me to complain, as may befit great Meliboeus hearse.  Corydon. 

I now begin: Apollo guide my sound, And weep ye sisters of the learned hill:  
That your Paegasean springs may leap their bound, and from their float may seas of tears distill.  
Let deadly sorrow with a sable wing, throughout the world go brute this tragedy:  
And let Arcadians altogether sing a woeful song against heauns tyranny.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   

Are wheeling orbs so full of foul despite, that neither wisdom, nor true piety,  
Nor learned skill, nor speech of choice delight, nor care of country's sweet security,  
Nor watchful study for Diana's health, nor gentle birth which virtues worth did raise,  
Nor honours titles, nor abundant wealth, nor thousand gifts deserving endless praise  
Can smooth the malice of old Saturn's brow, or heat of Mars, or Luna's deathful cold:  
O envious heauns, that wind I wot not how, grudging the glories of this earthly mould.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife:  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.  
Yet glorious heauns, o pardon my blaspheme, whose wit in sorrows Labyrinth is strayed:  
All that I spoke was but a furious dream, it was not you, but Fates that him betrayed.  
O thou eternal Monarch, at whose beck the planets move and make their influence:  
O give the Destinies a wrathful check, afflict them for their spiteful insolence.  
In case mine orison seem overlarge, o yet vouchsafe me but this one request,  
That fatal laws be giun to Saints in charge, whose hands & hearts will always work the best.  
What can those Imps of everclowding mist, those ruthless daughters of eternal night;  
But (tyrantlike) sunder their vital twist, whose shining virtues are the worlds chief light?  
Alas too soon by destinies fatal knife,  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   

And was not Astrophill in flowering prime, by cruel Fates cut off before his day,  
Young Astrophill, the mirror of our time, fair Hyales chief joy, till his decay?  
When late a dreadful Lion in his pride descended down the Pyraenaean mount,  
And roaring through the pastures far & wide, devoured whole Belgian herds of chief account:  
Stout Astrophill incensed with sole remorse, resolved to die, or see the slaughter ceased:  
Then fenced with fire and sword, with manly force he made assault upon the furious beast.  
But of this tale tears donwne the latter part: I must return to Meliboeus fall,  
Who mourning still for Astrophils departed, forsook his friends, and lost himself withal.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife,  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.  
Now tell me shepherds all, and fellow swains, who shall with rampires fence our country soil?  
And keep the floods from breaking o'er the plains? and shield our tender flocks from deadly spoil?  
Who shall recure their fainty maladies, & purge their fleeces in soft running streams?  
Who shall defend our lambs from jeopardies? & shroud our kids from Titan's parching beams?  
Who now shall till our ground, & reap our corn? who shall assuage the strife of swelling pride,  
When every swynard shall exceed his born, and will not by God Terminus be tied?  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife,  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   Tityrus. 

Thy tunes have often pleased mine ear of yoare, whenmilk-white swans did flock to hear theesing,  
Where Scene in Paris makes a double shore, Paris thrice blest if she obey her King.  
But now o Corydon, that lightsome vain is changed from youth to aged gravity,  
That whilst I hear thee bitterly complain, me thinks Apollo sings in Arcady.  
And yet afford thy morning Muse some rest, while I (though skill & voice are both decayed)  
With terms of duty from a pensive breast bewail my friend, whom cruel Fates betrayed.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   

O all that all the universe contains In heaun, or air, or earth, or watery deep:  
With mutual plaints make light my secret pains, for sorrow wastes in tears, where many weep.  
And first ye Figures in the Zodiac line, that deck heauns girdle with aeternal light:  
O feign some griefs, and knit them unto mine, such griefs as may this base world affright.  
Now Cancer slake thy heat with brackish rain, and Leo roar, to make the sky dismayed:  
Aquarius power thou down salt tears amain, and Aries let thy dancing now be staid.  
Now Libra make not oequinoctiall, but suffer night to overgrow the day:  
For darkness fits all us that live in thrall,  
Let those have light that list to sport and play.  
Now let the Centaur with his poisoned steel upon the Fates inflict a deadly wound:  
That for misguiding late their fatal wheel they may lament with guosts of underground.  
Now let the winter under Capricorn last still: and Pisces lend him watery showers:  
Let Taurus wound the welkin with his horn, and Scorpio with his tail sting fatal powers.  
Now Gemini forbear with gladsome shine, to comfort Seamen in their chief despair:  
Virgo make fountains of thy daie-bright eine, and tear the treasure of thy golden hair.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   

Ye seaunfold flames, whose ever-circling fires maintain this earth with influence from your spheres,  
And with your power guide mortal men's desires, now leave your harmony, and fall to tears.  
Yet cankered Saturn it were all in vain, with my entreats to call for thy lament,  
For if old Orpheus but a sooth have sane, to miseries thy mind is always bend.  
Thou still art lumpish, wayward, cold, and slow, attended on with Terror, doting night,  
Pale discontent, sighs, discord, tears, and woe, fit mates for me that want my chief delight.  
But thee fair jupiter I must require, to change the gracious virtue ofthy star,  
And not to temper with thy gentle fire, the raging heats of him that breedeth war.  
Let Mars roave uncontrolled and kindle strife, that Sorrows may sit down by Slaughters side:  
And golden Sol surcease to favour life; and Venus weep, as if Adonis died.  
And Stilbon with thy hat cloud Phoebus' face, And Luna see thou steal no more his beams:  
But let thy Steeds forbear their nightly race, and from thy bosom power down weeping streams.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fatal knife,  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.  
Now Air, and what thy circuits do contain, help to lament great Meliboeus death:  
Let clouds of tears with sighs be turned to rain, admit no wind but evergroaning breath.  
Now set thy fiery Pyramids to view, thy divers Idols, Candles burning bright:  
Inflamed Shafts, Comets of dreadful hew; Sparkles that fly, and Stars that fall by night.  
Let all thy Meteors, of what ever kind, with terrorsort themselves in just array:  
And work such fear in every mortal mind, that all the world may wail for ones decay.  
Alas to soon by Destinies fatal knife,  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.   Corydon. 
O Tityrus thy plaint is overlong, here pause a while, at Corydons' request:  
Of what is wanting in thy farfet song, my morning voice shall strive to tell the rest.  
But I must sorrow in a lower vain, not like to thee, whose words have wings at will:  
An humble style befits a simple Swain, my Muse shall pipe but on an oaten quill.  
Immortal Fauni, Satyrs, and great Pan, the Gods and guiders of our fruitful soil,  
Come seat yourselves by me, and wail the man, whose death was hastened by his virtuous toil.  
Ye comely Graces neither dance nor play, nor comb your beauteous tresses in the Sun,  
But now since Meliboeus is away, sit down and weep, for wanton days are dun.  
Now in the woods be leafless every Tree, and bear not pleasant fruits as heretofore:  
Myrrah let weeping gums distill from thee, and help to make my doleful plaint the more.  
Now in the woods let night-rauns croak by day, and gladles Owls shriek out, & vultures groan:  
But smaller birds that sweetly sing and play, be whist and still: for you can make no moan.  
Now in the fields each corn hang down his head, since he is gone that weeded all our corn:  
And sprouting vines whither till you be dead, since he is dead, that shielded you from storm.  
Now in the fields rot fruits while you are green, since he is gone that used to graft & grace you:  
And die fair Flowers, since he no more is seen, that in Diana's garland used to place you.  
O herds & tender flocks, o handsmooth plains, o Echo dwelling both in mount and valley:  
O groves & bubbling springs, o nymphs, o swains, o young and old, o weep all Arcady.  
Alas too soon by Destinies fat all knife  
Sweet Meliboeus is deprived of life.  Tityrus. 
O let me interrupt thee yet once more, for who should more lament his loss than I,  
That oft have tasted of his bounteous store, and knew his secret virtues perfectly?  
We have already summoned every part, excepting that which in the Ocean lies:  
To stand copartners of our woeful smart, and beat the senseless air with Elegies.  
Now therefore Neptune grant me this one boon, depose great jove for foe misguiding fate:  
That Meliboeus wounded all too soon, by morta's malice dies before his date.  
And thou old Glaucus with divining blessed, Prophet to him that never speaks but truth,  
Come with Palaemon, Phorcus, and the rest, and here give oracle of endless ruth.  
Come Tethis come with Thetis after thee, and all thy watery nymphs, a lovely train:  
Vouchsafe to sit upon these banks with me, that I may hear both thee & them complain.  
And thou great Triton with thy sounding shell, impart my grievance unto every shore:  
And with a murmur make the waves go tell, that worthy Meliboeus breathes no more.  
Now let no Dolphins seek Arion's Muse, nor play by shore to catch up heedless boys:  
Let them suppose sweet Music out of use, and wanton love-tricks to be foolish toys.  
Deceitful Mermaids leave your ancient guise, forbear to sing while tempest troubles us:  
Let me behold whole fountains in your eyes, for weeping fits unhappy Tityrus.  Corydon. 
But Tityrus enough, leave of a while: stop morning springs, dry up thy dreary eine,  
And blithly entertain my altered style, inticd from griefs by some allure divine.  
For now my mind reclaimed from careful moan, 'gins fault her giving place to sorrows source:  
And in her change entreats thee cease to groan, that as we grieved, so we may joy by course.  
In just complaint though sorrows were begun, and all too little for the man we wail:  
Yet now at last our sorrows must be done, and more than morning reason must prevail.  
injustly grudge we Melibaeus death, as though his worth were buried in his fate:  
But neither are his virtues drenchd in Leath, nor virtuous soul removed to meaner state:  
His faith hath framed his spirit holy wings, To soar with Astropbil above the Sun:  
And there he joys, whence every comfort springs, and where the fullness of his bliss begun.  
Let us be joyful after long annoy,  
Since Meliboeus lives in perfect joy.  
Our Meliboeus lives where Seraphins do praise the Highest in their glorious flames:  
Where flows the knowledge of wise Cherubins: where Thrones exhibit earthly deeds & names:  
Where Dominations rule and yet obey: where Principalities to lower powers  
Deep hidden mysteries do still bewray: where arms are used by foe-subduing powers.  
Where Virtues practise miracles and wonder: where both Archangels and sweet Angels sing,  
Whose office is, to us, that live here under, from heaun celestial messages to bring.  
Let us be joyful after long annoy,  
Since Meliboeus lives in perfect joy.  
Now Melibaeus in compareless place, drinks Nectar, eats divine Ambrosia;  
And hath fruition of eternal grace, and with his countenance cheers Arcadia.  
Then while his spirit dwells in heavenly towers, let us perform what honour duty wills:  
Let us adorn his sacred tumb with flowers, and sweet it with the riches of our hills.  
Our vernal Flora that bewails our loss, will gladly let her flowery locks be rend:  
And clad herself in moornfull robes of moss, if all the treasure of her buds were spent.  
Then Flora lend us thime and violets, sweet balm and roses for his burial:  
Bestow no wealth on wanton amorits, but spare it to adorn his funeral.  
And Pales bathe his limbs in floods of milk, and cover him with costly ornament:  
Enshrine his corpse in sheets of softest silk, for he deserus Mausolus' monument.  
And Tityrus let us before the rest set holy lights, and watch his breathless corpse,  
Singing sweet himns for him whose soul is blest, though parted from his flesh by death's divorce.  
Now cheer we Dryas in her misery, who overlong bewails her hapless case:  
Lest overloving like Laodame, she lose herself in deep supposed embrace.  
Now call we Hyale from whispering streams, increased with tears (true servants of annoy)  
Who takes no pleasure but in griefs extremes, nor joys in aught but in her want ofioie:  
Fair Hyale, who wring ofthir arms, her arms far whiter than Sythonian snoa,  
with doubling sighs bewails her helpless harms, Alas that helpless harms should vex her so.  
Yet beauteous Nymph thy careful mother lives, (long may she live, and living ease thy heart)  
Accept what comfort her surviving gives, and in life's comfort drown thy sorrows smart.  
Help thou with us, and every country wight, to chase all grievance from Diana's mind:  
From dread Diana, earths and heauns delight, Diana, glory of her sex and kind;  
Diana, wondrous mirror of our days; Diana matchless Queen of Arcady;  
Diana, whose surpassing beauties praise Improous her worth past terrene deity;  
Diana ' Sibyl for her secret skill; Diana, piety's chief earthly friend;  
Diana, holy both in deed and will; Diana whose just praises have no end.  
Ah but my Muse, that creeps but on the ground, gins to tremble at my great presume,  
For naming her, whose titles only sound doth glad the welkin with a sweet perfume.  
For in her mind so many virtues dwell, as every moment breed new pieties:  
Yet all in one conjoind do all excel, and crown her worth with sundry deities.  
But that unwares my sorry style proceeds dread Cynthia pardon: love desires dispense:  
As Ioues high Oaks orelook Pan's slender reeds, so 'bove all praising flies thine excellence.  
Yet lest my homespun verse obscure her worth, sweet Spencer let me leave this task to thee,  
Whose neverstooping quill can best set forth such things of state, as pass my Muse, and me.  
Thou Spencer art the alderliefeft swain, or haply if that word be all to base,  
Thou art Apollo whose sweet honey vain amongst the Muses hath a chiefest place.  
Therefore in fullness of thy duties love, calm thou the tempest of Diana's breast,  
Whilst she for Melibaeus late remove afflicts her mind with overlong unrest.  
Tell her forthwith (for well she likes thy vain) that though great Melibaeus be away:  
Yet like to him there many still remain, which will uphold her country from decay.  
First name Damaetas, flower of Arcady, whose thoughts are prudent, & speech virtuous,  
Whose looks have mildness joined with Majesty, whose hand is liberal and valorous:  
He is Damaetas, that is wont to blame extremest justice void of equity:  
Diana terms him by an other name, Hatton, unless I fail in memory.  
Then name old Damon, whom she knows of old for such as Nestor was to Grecians guide:  
Worth ten of Ajax, worth all Craessus gold, if his deserts in balance could be tried.  
Damon is he that counsels still aright, and heedfully preserus Diana's store:  
And wakes when others rest them selves by night we Arcads called him Cecil heretofore.  
Then name brave Aegon, that with ships defence about our coast orespreds the Ocean plains,  
To keep fell monsters of the sea from hence: we cleape him Howard, that are country swains.  
Name Mopsus, Daphnis, Faustus, and the rest, whose several gifts thy singing can express:  
When thou shalt tell how she in them is blest, their very names will comfort her distress.  Tityrus. 
Castor and Pollux, Leda's lovely twins, whose bright aspect cheers moornful Mariners,  
Showing themselves when pleasant calm gins, of gladsome news two welcome messengers,  
Convey great comfort to the weltered mind, and with their sheen appearance breed delight:  
Yet Corydon thy lere and love combined please more by hearing, than those twain by sight,  
For they portending stormy winds surcease, but by portending cause the hearts content:  
Thy learned persuades command my sorrow cease, and sweetness doth allure to merriment.  
Buthie we homeward, night comes on apace, we'll learn believe forget our doleful notes:  
See where fair Venus shows her radiant face, let's hence, & shut our sheepfolds in their coat  
FINIS.