E. W. HIS THAMESEIDOS.  
Divided into three Books, or Cantos.  
Nunquam stigias ibit ad umbras Inclita virtus.   printer's device of William White (McKerrow no. 165): "a pelican in her piety, on a shield of irregular outline" 
AT LONDON, Printed by W. W. for Simon Waterson, 1600.   


THAMESEIDOS, Liber Primus.  

NOw gentle blasts, forerunners of the day,  
Had summoned hateful Darkness pack away:  
And Horror, Coachman unto ugly night,  
Made his black Steeds post with all speed he might,  
From forth our Hemisphere, not daring bide  
To look upon Aurorás gorgeous pride.  
And now from new soused wife, the fiery Sun  
Was risen, and from Ocean seas begun,  
To drive his golden Chariot, that he might  
To all the world declare his glorious light.  
When Thamesis, the fairest Queen on earth,  
To solemnize her annual day of birth,  
Apparelled in rob of purest white,  
All thick of golden shimiring Spangles dight;  
Which 'gainst the Sun reflecting beams did cast,  
As do the Stars, that in the heavens are plâst.  
Her hair bound up in knots like golden wire,  
And crowned with Garlands of sweet smelling Brier:  
Unto a Meadow by, his flowing streams  
Did go: where she from heat of Phoebus' beams,  
Under the cool shade of the spreading Trees,  
Did mean to sport and sing sweet virolees.  
With her fair Nymphs, each having in her hand,  
To fill with precious flowers a little maund.   

It was about the self same time of year,  
When from the midst of heaven the Sun doth bear  
His scorching heat, and makes it swiftly role,  
Unto the Stars of the Antartique Pole.  
Then when Pomona jades her slender bows,  
To serve Autumnus her diseased spouse.  
Autumnus who in press with naked feet,  
From sweet ripe Grapes, make pleasant Wines to fleet.   

In Inorie hand fair Thames a Maund did hold,  
Most rarely painted, and adorned with gold:  
Which precious jewel great Ocean did  
To Doris give, what time he did her wed:  
Which precious rich Maund lovely Doris after,  
Did give to Thames her darling and her daughter.   

Upon that Maund were many Histories  
Depicted in such rare and curious wise,  
That seemed as Art with Nature strove t'excel  
In the rare workmanship, for none could tell,  
Save Vulcan, who some said, did make the same,  
How like to it, an other Maund to frame.   

There might have seen a very stately Bed,  
Made like a Boat; which certain Tritons did  
With their strong scaly backs uphold and stay,  
All armed with Oars, all coullard like the Sea:  
'Bout whom, fair Sea-nymphs sported cheerfully,  
Delighted with the Tritons company:  
Where, on the poop, stood Neptune; who did hold  
In his right hand his Trident tind with gold.  
And under his left arm a winding Shell,  
Like those from whence (as ancient Poets tell)  
The heads of Tiber and of Nilus ran,  
Or ere their floods unto the salt Sea came.   

Ioues braine-bred-daughrer at the prow was placed,  
Armed as then when she from heaven chased  
The hundred handed Titan to his grave,  
Upon the Fish that did Orion save.  
The Testern like a Tile, all covered  
With purple Velvet richly embroidered,  
With orient round Pearl was supported by;  
Certain fair Sea-nymphs on whose head did lie,  
The Arched Ribs in very stately order,  
As on so many columns: on a border  
'Bout which was painted the imagery  
Of many Sea-gods, very curiously;  
With Curtains suitable thereto: whereon  
The Roman Lucrece lifeless, pale, and wan,  
Lay all besmeared in her own gore blood,  
Which with a Poniard her own hand had shod,  
As sacrifice unto her chastity;  
Which was bereaved by Tarquin spitefully.  
And there by cunning workman curiously,  
Was made a Land-shaft, in which one might see,  
Steep craggy Rocks, high Mountains, shady Woods,  
Green pleasing Fields, and crooked winding Floods;  
Where, in the middle of a pleasant Lawn,  
There was a stately Fountain sweetly drawn;  
Whose water from a Harpies breast did fall,  
Of Brass, into a Cistern paved all  
With polished Marblé, and with Porphire stone;  
In which the Painter had his cunning shown,  
In neatly laying of his colours, that  
It seemed a true Fount, and no counterfeit:  
In which was chaste Diana with her Nymphs,  
All naked, bathing of their tender limbs;  
On whom Actaeon in the changed shape  
Of fearful Dear, full greedily did gape,  
Turned thereto because he should not tell,  
Had seen Diana naked in a Well:  
By whom were made his weary Hound that lapped  
The water which from forth the Fountain drapped;  
Whom fearing, he did seek to fly: for as  
His body, so his mind transformed was;  
And on the hanger of a Hill hard by,  
The Dogs pinching his hantches you might see;  
A rueful sight, yet could not be amended,  
Since he Diana's grace had so offended.  
And 'bout the Verges seemly to behold,  
Trails of Morisco works were wrought in gold.   

Thus lovely Isis with his comely train  
Of beauteous Nymphs, into the Meadow came;  
Where, on one side a shady Forest grew;  
To which Aurora oft herself withdrew,  
To hear her loves complaint, and where the Moon,  
Oft stayed to look upon the Latmian Loon:  
In which did grow the tough and hardy Ash,  
The builder Oak; Holme fit for Carters lash,  
chaste lovely Daphne closed under rind,  
Incestuous Myrrh, that weary still of kind:  
Then peaceful Olive, and the wholesome Pine;  
The sailing Fir, and eke the drunken Vine:  
Upon whose boughs, perched the lascivious Sparrow,  
The temperate Turtle, and the wight winged Swallow,  
Who flying singes, and singing studieth where,  
With more art than with cost, her nest to rear:  
The which, as pattern may be looked on  
By rarest architect and cunningest man.  
The little Owsle, and the mounting Lark;  
The pretty Quail, and charitable Stork,  
Whose kindness to old Parent's children learn;  
For oft to aged Parents you are more stern.  
High flying Cranes, by whose orderly flight,  
Mars first was taught in ranked squadrons fight.  
And Peacocks, which against the Sun do rear  
Their painted tails with Argus eyes made fair.  
With little Nightingales, who diversly  
With changed notes do make sweet melody,  
Feigning sometime a base, sometime a treble,  
Often a mean, then sweetly forth do warble  
A descant, which the minds of standers by,  
Doth ravish, hearing such sweet harmony.   

On th'other side, a secret Cave was seen,  
Which for his fitness, often times hath been  
A refuge for those Nymphs, the which would shun,  
The scorching heat of Midday of the Sun:  
The entrance decked with Moss, pleasing the sight,  
And alway fresh and green for more delight,  
To land-ward did there rise a Hill so high,  
That welnie it did face the azurd sky:  
From foot of which, did run a purling Brook  
Through the Mead, with many a winding crook:  
Whose sliding streams the heavens calm seemed blue,  
Whence store of pleasure to the eyesight grew;  
Yet clearer than was Aganippe Fount,  
Or Acidalia, where the Charicts wont  
To bathe their ivory breasts and golden hair,  
Ere they make ready Citherea's care.  
About whose banks did grow small tangled Trees,  
Which made it seem a heaven to gazers' eyes:  
Whose boughs the needy Woodman near had cut,  
Nor hungry Beast the tender shoots had brut.  
And in the middle of that Meadow grew  
A stately Beech, which his large arms forth threw  
To shadow them that under her should sport,  
To which with Lea, Isis did resort  
With Lea; on whose banks Ardea was turned  
Into a Bitterne, cause she Glaucus scorned.  
Whilst Colne, and Kenet, with the fair Chrew went  
To gather Flowers of most pleasing sent;  
For there were Roses with Virmilion died,  
Cool Daisies, and white Lilies; Summers' pride:  
The Marigold, that doth affect the Sun,  
Hiding her beauty when his light is gone:  
The Bee alluring Thime, the sweet costmary,  
Grey Lavender, and strong scenting Rosemary,  
And what else might be pleasing to the view,  
Within this fair and princely Meadow grew:  
But that which garnished most this Paradise,  
Were Isis lovely look, and sparkling eyes.  
For mark how brighter Cynthia doth appear  
Above the Stars within her motive Spheere:  
So much more fairer did this lovely Dame  
Exceed those comely Nymphs, that which here came.   

Not she, whom Venus gave for the rich Ball,  
The cause of ten years war, and Troy's fall:  
Nor that fair Dame whom jove in shape of Swan,  
Whilom did court, when he her love first won:  
Nor yet Europa, whose love made him take  
A proud Bulls shape (though then when he did make)  
To look like a fair untamed Heifer:  
Had he turned to a Bull, it had been better;  
For Beauty might in any point compare  
To Isis, though they were exceeding fair.   

You learned Muses, race of mighty jove,  
That often sport within a sacred Grove,  
In pleasant Tempe, and do daily drink,  
Of those clear waves that flow from Pinples' brink.  
O you that guide their enterprises right,  
Who take in hand to grave with rarest slight,  
Upon the Altar of Muemosine,  
Within the Temple of Immortality,  
Sweet pleasing beauty, which else subject were,  
In shade of lasting silence still to ere,  
Guide me, that with your help I may begin  
To frame Thames beauty; whose like near hath been:  
And grant these Rhythms, which slenderly are done,  
May show hereafter when as I am gone.  
She was the fairest and most accomplished Dame,  
Excelling ' all whom Nature ere did frame.   

Her heavenly Head the miracle of Nature,  
Surpassing far the fairest earthly creature:  
With yellow Trammels all of beaten gold,  
Which gazers thoughts in curled knots did hold;  
Seemed overspread with flowers fresh and gay,  
The myrtle Forests where the loves do play.  
Like to a Table was her Front to see,  
Of whitest Marble, seat of Majesty:  
Well polished, as on a summer's day,  
Withouten waves united seems the Sea:  
Where Cupid had an Altar built to offer,  
Their hearts that did refuse his laws to suffer.   

Her Eyelids black, of Ebony arches made,  
Were like the bow that Psyche's husband had;  
In which so liberal was Nature to her,  
That every one suspected (that did view her)  
She only ' made fair Isis to deceive them:  
And both of sight and judgement to bereave them.   

Of different force were her two sparkling eyes,  
Disdain in th'one, grace in the other lies:  
Two eyes? O no, rather two heavenly Stars;  
Th'one proffering Peace, the other threatening Wars:  
In which Mars bastard Boy, his lodging took  
Thence wounding them which at those stars did look.  
Her Nose did seem (being somewhat highly raised)  
A little Hill between two Valleys placed.  
Her round and tender Ear, white polished:  
With Rubies hung her Cheeks embellished:  
Cheeks which with lively Cynab're over spread.  
Seemed like the Morning, new risse from her bed.  
Not all those Flowers sprung from Prince's gore,  
Nor Amaranthus loves Flower made of Yore,  
Like colour had to hers, which did amaze  
Those careless eyes, that on her cheeks did gaze.  
Full was her Mouth of thousand Odours sweet,  
Where there in single ranks did seemly meet  
Bright oriental Peatles in stead of Teeth:  
All which, embalmed the Heavens with their breath.  
From thence sweet word and pleasing smiles did come,  
All made to charm, and make beholders doom:  
And which hard Rocks that stand in Seas aloft,  
Can by their mighty power, of hard make soft.  
Round was her Chin, with in whose dimples lay  
Enchanting spells, though seeming fair and gay.  
Her Neck a stay, this little world to'pholde,  
Of ivory was, or Alabaster mould,  
Placed on two hills in whiteness that did pass.  
Her snowwhite Breasts that was Agenous lass:  
Between which hills, Love often times did lurk,  
When cruel stratagems he meant to work.  
Her little, but long fingered Hand, more white  
Than whitest Lilies that the Spring doth dight:  
With interchanged Veins adorned was.  
Her small Feet such as some say Tethis has:  
With which she nimbly could trip o'er the Lawns,  
And chase swift Row-bucks, and young wanton Fawns.   

But for those parts the which her Garments hid,  
What should we say? Surely dame Nature did  
Keep those things secret, lest they should excel  
All she had made in heaven, in earth, in hell.  
But O! what boots it to have things surpass,  
Since fairest things do fade like summers grass:  
Alas nought in this world doth firmly stay,  
But turneth still like Billows of the Sea:  
Which near do cease to roll till with great roar,  
Their rushing beat and break against the shore.   

And thou the cause of this unstableness,  
That dost delight in nought but fickleness;  
Whose customs never to abide in one,  
But useth headlong daily throw us down,  
When we are raised by thy benignity,  
Unto the top of all felicity.   

While thus with their fair Nymphs this lovely Queen  
Was in this pleasant Mead, by them was seen  
A Shepherd, in the pride of all his days:  
Who whilst his tender Flock on salts did graze,  
Sat senseless, like an Image made of stone  
Long while, at last fetching a deep sad groan  
Of inward grief, the truest sign of all;  
They forth his eyen perceived salt tears to fall:  
So after great Ioues hideous thunders passed,  
A cloud of rain, the heavens doth overcast:  
And when his tears were spent, with heavy cheer,  
Sang to his Pipe this Song; which they did hear:  
And hearing, could not choose but sympathize  
His heavy grief with water in their eyes.   

O whither (quoth he) whither shall I fly,  
To purchase end unto my misery?  
Within what Rock, or to what desert place,  
That never is enriched by Phoebus' face?  
Shall I unfold in great and grievous pain,  
Which makes me wretcheder than any Swain?  
If there be any place where daily cries  
The Night-rau'n and the Owl, that by night flies,  
Whereto no living wight doth ere resort:  
From whence foul Winter never doth departed,  
And where the Spring her verdure will not sow,  
A place of deadly horror and foul woe,  
Where ugly sorrow daily may present,  
Herself before mine eyes me to torment:  
That will I choose as best befitting me,  
In this distress and great extremity.   

And you my little flock, the small remain  
Of a far greater, which once more my pain  
Might with most neighbour flocks have made compare  
For number or for wool, both fine and fair:  
Then when for change of pasture silly I,  
In th'April of mine age left Germany;  
Where I 'mongst Stadian bowers had nigh been slain,  
'Cause I my Princess honour did maintain:  
Which was, and is, more dearer unto me,  
Then is the precious apple of mine eye:  
And hoping for I wat not what to gain,  
To England's pleasant soil brought you again.  
Go wander, go; and take your liberty,  
grazing where is best pasture, while that I  
Bewail m' Icarian flight in mounting pride,  
Plumed with waxe-forg'd-wings, which thought to ride  
Above the cloudy welkin of the air,  
To view the order their Latona's heir;  
Holdeth in guiding of that glorious light,  
That is the nourish of each living wight;  
But was deceived for coming near the Sun:  
My wings did melt, and I did tumble down.   

O had I kept along the humble gill,  
When first I did attempt to climb the hill.  
Or had I bounded mine ambitious mind,  
Which careless thought to build above the wind,  
Sprung from remembrance of those deeds were done  
By my great Grandsires, long-since dead and gone:  
And a desire to register my'name,  
Mought them within the sacred book of fame:  
Then might I now as I have done before,  
Pasture you still along this pleasant shore.   

Or had not rather greet Chrusophilus,  
Whose greedy humour passing covetous,  
Thought all that went beside himself quite lost:  
Me too much wronged, and me too much crossed;  
Whose soul with many filthy crimes made black,  
Now fleets about avernus fearful lake:  
Then might I now as I have done before,  
Pasture you still along this pleasant shore.   

For which, you Lords of the infernal Bower,  
Who o'er deceased souls have mighty powet,  
T'inflict, or to remit their punishment:  
O do you all at my request assent,  
Ixion from his wheel a while to take;  
And false Chrusophilus fast there to make.  
Or if great junos' wrath be not yet done,  
Let Sisyphus t'hen leave his rolling stone.  
Or pull from Cawcasus Prometheus,  
And let the vultures tear Chrusophilus.  
Or if that may not be, jove angry yet,  
O then drag Tantalus forth of his pit.  
And let Chrusophilus up to the chin,  
Still, but in vain, wade up an'downe therein.  
Let him at that fair seeming fruit, oft snatch;  
Which thereby hangs, but never any catch.  
A torment well beefitting such a wight,  
Who living over his own, had never might;  
And let his late made gentle of spring, which  
Are with stolen Plumes of others pride made rich:  
Despoiled thereof like to their Grandsires' fare,  
Who unto Ceres' slavish servants wear.  
And for assenting to my wished boon,  
Sad Hecatombs by me shall be done,  
And monthly I will offer a black Ram,  
As sign that I am thankful for the same,  
For had not he lately from me bereft  
Unjustly all my Sheep, save these few left;  
To staunch his never satisfied lust  
Of Gold, earth's dross, that doth consume with rust;  
Then might I now, as I have done before,  
Pasture you still alongst this pleasant shore.  
But since it cannot be as 'twas of late,  
Since Fortune now hath given me the mate,  
Despoiled me quite of all my wonted mirth,  
Clad me with woes, and thrown me to the earth:  
And like a Tyrant triumphs over me,  
That fore her prostrate on the ground doth lie;  
Near reckoning whether it be just and sound,  
To trouble him, lies groveling on the ground.   

O you the remnant of a greater flock,  
Go get you gone, while to some desert rock  
I make repair, where for my bed shall be  
The cold dry ground, whereon I still will lie;  
For morning matins, mournings full of care:  
For walks, the wretched paths of foul despair:  
For meat, sad discontent: for drink, salt tears:  
For nightly sleeps, nought else but slumbering fears;  
Till those last duties I do pay to Nature,  
Which I am bound too, being a mortal creature:  
What time my soul freed from this earthly gail,  
Where now it tired lies, shall to thee vail:  
Of fair Elysium fly, where void of pain,  
'mongst blessed souls in joy it shall remain.  
And thou sweet Pipe, the which wonts oft display  
My wrongs unto these Woods, these Rocks, and Sea,  
And moovedst them at once to rue my lot,  
When living men seemed senseless, and would not;  
But held hard hearts, the which I do repent,  
More harder far, than hardest Adamant.  
From that rude race, degenerating nought,  
Which was of hard Stone, by Deiecalion wrought.  
Here hang thou (therewith on a Beechen tree  
He hung his Pipe) for now no more for thee,  
Nor for thy sugared melody I care,  
(Quoth he) which done like one drowned in despair:  
Thence heavy he departed, passing nought,  
What Fortune, or foul Envy could allot.   

On whom, whilst ISIS looked, perceive she might  
The Sea to swell, which did her much affright:  
For she discerned on their tops to ride  
Great Neptune, posting to the shore with speed.  
Whose coming so amazed the fearful Thames,  
(Who knew full well that he those scorching flames,  
With her fair eyes within his breast had wrought,  
Would seek to quench by farce, if he her caught)  
As in a shady Wood the hideous stroke  
Of rattling Thunder on the sudden broke,  
Doth scare the small Birds, parched on the spray:  
And like how Fowl that by a River play,  
Spying a Falcon towering in the sky,  
Strait leave their sport, and for their safety fly,  
Withouten order crying here and there:  
So ISIS and her Nymphs, being in fear  
Of hated Neptune, from thence strait 'gan fly,  
Shrieking and crying very piteously.   

Ay me, What is this world but vanity?  
Subject to change; full of unconstancy:  
Now is the Welkin glorious to the eye,  
Clad in a Mantle of an asurd die.  
And Phoebus now his fair light doth display,  
When by and by a black Cloud forth the Sea  
Doth rise and dark the heavens were jovial,  
Troubling both air and earth with waters fall.   

Ay, now I see that mourning follows mirth,  
That sorrow driveth pleasure from the earth;  
That happiness doth not long time remain,  
But ere it is at full begi'nes to wain:  
That all in vain man strives to keep his state,  
When dangerous storms labour it to abate:  
That vainly men do boast of Fortune's favours,  
Since like a weathercock she always wavers,  
Threatening them most, and bringing soonest under  
Those, at whose fortunes most the world did wonder.   

And strange, what ere within this world is done,  
Ordained was before this world begun:  
So that great JOVE, who moderateth Heaven  
As sovereign, and commands o'er Gods and men:  
At whose beck, earth and air, and all else move,  
Will not o●●● enterprise the Fates to prove:  
Whom neither prayers, nor ought else can resist,  
'Cause still theyare fixed, and still in one persist.   
FINIS Lib. Prim.   

THAMESEIDOS, Liber Secundus.  

WHen cold staru'n Winter white with Ice and Snow  
Declining from our Hemisphere doth go:  
And watery Planets plunged deep do yield,  
Their mantions unto Hiems pleasant child.  
When luckless Echo learns again to sing,  
The pastoral Songs which Shepherd near a Spring;  
Or hard beside some murmuring Brook repeat,  
Whilst little Lambkins 'bout the fields do bleat.   

The amorous God that lovely Tyro knew,  
In likeness of her Husband Enipeu,  
Hated by Grecian Nymphs, him whilom loved,  
And by the Thuscane, French, and Spanish glouted:  
Remembering the rare beauty that was said  
T'adorn fair ISIS face, himself arrayed:  
And falling forth the straits of Gibraltare,  
Where by Alcides placed to Coloms are,  
His nimble team of Dolphins he made post,  
Along the Spanish and the Gallicke coast:  
And when he came where England's pride doth pay  
Her daily tribute to her Sovereign Sea,  
There he at last unyoakt his weary team,  
And went to seek the fair commended Queen:  
Whom by her silver sliding streams he found,  
Amid her Maidens on th'enameled ground:  
Whose face fair without art, did quickly daze  
His eyes, that greedily on it did gaze,  
As Phoebus doth our ●ver feeble sight,  
When we dare look on upon his dazzling light;   

For like the man that unawares doth see  
A blazing Comet in the sable sky,  
Not having ere before seen such a sight,  
Aston'd, long stars upon the streaming light:  
This great God long beheld her beauteous face;  
Her beauteous face that Nature's works doth grace,  
Till therewith ravished, he perceived his heart  
Began to faint, and wont courage part:  
And felt each sense enchanted by her beauty,  
Forget his wont office, and his duty:  
Which wanton Cupid saw as he did lie  
Lurking under a sandy bank, to pry  
On JSIS' beauty, and being v'ery glad,  
That then the long desired mean he had  
T'avenge him for the envious tale he told,  
Unto his mother then, when feign he would  
Have married Psyche's: strait he to the heart  
Strake ISIS with a leaden headed dart:  
Then with an other all of burnished gold,  
He warmed his heart, that had long time been cold;  
And made him suppliant, crave remedy  
For those hot flames that in his breast 'gan fry:  
But crave in vain; for when his suit she heard,  
At first she waxed pale, being afeard:  
But after, like the Rose in month of May,  
Coullard with heat of Phoebus' golden ray  
For shame her face did seem, and to him said,  
That she long since had vowed to die a Maid:  
Therefore in vain he laboured, and in vain  
Should sue, if in the end he hoped to gain  
That guerdon, whereto they have only right,  
Who under loves lascivious banner fight:  
And therewith with her fair troup went her way,  
Leaving the God behind, who did not stay  
Long after her; but wroth that she was gone,  
He studied long which way she might be won  
Unto his will; like to a gallant Soldier,  
Who for the first repulse doth not give over  
The fortress, which to gain he goes about:  
Who thereby more enraged, doth wax more stout;  
And back returns, meaning in spite of foes,  
To sack the walls, and enter ere he goes.  
But after he had long time beat his brain,  
And could devise no way how her to gain,  
He vowed the next time that he could come to her,  
To use his force, and not his words to woe her.   

Within a Wood from ISIS streams a part,  
There is a Cave made in despite of art,  
So fitly is the growing Marble wrought,  
To beautify the entry of the Vault:  
Through this a River glides, whose sands do show,  
Like those that do in western Tagus grow:  
Which left the earth some while, herself to drown,  
Within this dark, but pleasant mansion▪  
Much like the Nubian Niger, which doth slide  
In one place under earth of no man spied:  
Hither proud medway, one of JSIS' train,  
In hunting having lost his company came;  
Where, with her days toil overwearied,  
Down on a bank she laid her weary head,  
Meaning when she had slept a while, to go  
After her lost Companions: but o,  
We intend often one thing, when an other  
Crosseth our purposes; the which, o there  
Was to be seen: for that place which she thought  
Should work her rest, her most disquiet wrought:  
Because a Satire that before had spied her,  
Taking the Vault when she thought none had eyed her,  
Who did imagine she was Phoebus' sister:  
And with Endymion, who had often kissed her,  
Appointed there to meet, whereby they might  
Reap that same harvest, that doth love delight,  
Did follow her: and haded been true, he then,  
Meant to bewray it unto Gods and men:  
All in revenge of that disgrace was done,  
To Marsius, by the God that guides the Sun.   

But when the fearful Satire came unto  
The entrance of the Cave, he durst not go  
Boldly in to't, afraid lest he espied,  
His base lewd enterprise might be denied:  
But villain-like stale softly to, and peeped  
At first there in, where he a Nymph that sleeped  
On the bare floor did see, whom strait he knew:  
But nor for Phoebe, nor one of her crew.  
And wondering at his hap, forgot anon  
The Goddess, and her dear Endymion:  
And look how that same Faun that doted on  
Fair jole, stood like a senseless stone,  
Scard and amazed, when softly he had crept,  
It being dark where as Alcides slept,  
Thinking that he fair jole had been,  
'Cause she was armed with Club and Lion's skin.  
So stood this Satire for a while aston'd,  
Viewing the sleeping Nymph on the bare ground:  
Yet that unlookt-for change pleased him so well,  
That strait to toying on her lips he fell,  
Whereby he caused her from her sleep awake;  
Where she spying this Satire, strait 'gan quake,  
And stood even like, if that the like might be:  
Scard and amazed at his company,  
Like Gadian Spaniards, when as they did see,  
The valiant English by their chivalry,  
Caesarean conquerors of their town before,  
They are suspected they had gained their shore.  
Or like to him whose fellows suddenly,  
Struck with a Dart sent from Jove's armory.   

But as the Bird besnarled in the net,  
Which the false Fowler closely for her set,  
Although fast bound, yet flutters with her wings,  
And to be gone, stands biting of the strings:  
So did she with her tender force withstand,  
And struggled strongly both with foot and hand,  
Thinking herself thereby again to free  
Away out of his brutish company;  
And with sharp words revilde him, to maintain  
Her honour spotless, but 'twas all in vain:  
For the young Satire felt she was unable,  
Being so tender bônd, with him to graplet  
Yet seeing her so hot, and out of quiet,  
And very desirous for to put her by it,  
So gently as he could he asked her why,  
She so should ha': e the harmless Satirie?  
Who answered strait, Their foul deformed shapes,  
Their manners rude, unfit for maidens laps;  
Did make her loathe their vile base company:  
To which the Satire forthwith did reply.   

Sweet Nymph (quoth he) What? is it these that grow  
Forth of our foreheads, that dislike you so?  
(Pointing unto his little horns) If these?  
That God which conquered Jndia, and did please  
The Candian Queen, had such: or if too read  
My face doth seem? know Phoebus from the bed  
Of his fair Love arising, redder far  
Doth look; yet road he oft in Climens' Car.  
But happily, nor these our Horns nor Face,  
But these our hairy Breasts, work our disgrace:  
Which I confess are rough, but like his Breast  
Where lovely Venus oft hath stolen her rest.  
Nor should we ought the more ill shapen seem,  
Because Goate-like we cloven footed been,  
Since Cupid's mother is wed unto him,  
That hath a pool-foote, and halts of a limb.  
And well I wots, we Jove our shape did take  
When to Antiope he love did make:  
Therefore I must conclude, if Nature had  
This perfect shape of ours imperfect made,  
Because in heaven and earth the like there are,  
'mongst God and men to be excused it were:  
This said, he threw her down upon the sand,  
For, O her force too weak was to withstand:  
And there in spite of her, he pulled the flower,  
The fragrant Rose, which near before that hour;  
(though ofted sought) by any was obtained:  
Hard was her hap that so vile slave it gained.  
That done, he shook her off, as great men now,  
Those that their turns have served use to do;  
And thence departed, leaving her full woe,  
And sorrowful behind, for she did know,  
She like the Rose, was cropped from native stem,  
Whose virtues wholly lost, do nor young men,  
Nor lovely Maids delight, or ought content  
Either for show, or for their pleasing scent.  
Yet went she home again, but did not tell,  
What hard misfortune was to her befell,  
But proudly, as before, when she was free,  
She presseth next her Mistress still to be,  
And jets it by her side; she never showed  
By any action she awry had trodden.  
Nor did her fellows ere her fault perceive:  
So studied she their eye sight to deceive.   

Yet after this, scarce Phoebe the ninth time  
Had shown herself to this our northern Clime,  
When Isis almost fainting thorough heat,  
And hunting in the chase, being in a sweat:  
By chance a fair and pleasant Lawn espied,  
Through midst of which a shallow Brook did slide:  
And liking well the place, the upper brim,  
Touched with her foot, and finding cool and trim  
The water, willed all her Maidens there,  
To bathe themselves, which when medway did hear,  
She hung the head, afraid she should bewray,  
That yet none knew, and only sought delay,  
Till jealous Thames whether she would or no,  
Caused her Maids her garments to undo;  
Where, with her naked body strait was shown,  
Her shame; the which unwilling to have known,  
She covered with her hands: but all served nought,  
'twas known, and she confessed where it was wrought:  
Desiring pardon, cause 'twas forced on her,  
And 'gainst her will, she suffered that dishonour.   

But as Diana raged when she knew  
Calisto, one of her fair retinue  
By jove was forced; so did ISIS now:  
And strait commanded her from thence to go,  
And told her for her lewd fact angered,  
That whether to the Northern Pole she fled,  
Where windy Boreas doth daily strew  
The tops of Hyperborean hills with Snow:  
Or to the Tropics, where Apollo's torch  
With extreme heat the sandy ground doth scorch:  
Yet therefore should she not escape or fly  
The just reward of her hypocrisy,  
Which could so wild a fact so long time hide,  
From being by her, or her fellows spied.  
Which when poor medway heard, discomfited;  
Unwitting what to do; for fear half dead:  
From thence she traveled by uncertain ways,  
Like a great Ship in the wide Ocean Seas;  
Whose stately Mast being spent, and proud Sails lost,  
Is by each wave hither and thither tossed:  
And still bewailed her miserable state,  
Her wretched life brought to so low a rate:  
Life seeming long to folk in misery,  
But short to those live in felicity.  
Yet comfortless as she was, like that wight,  
Which on the high Alps, having lost by night  
His way, and knoweth not which hand to turn,  
Sits on a Bank, where while as he doth mourn  
His haps unto the sable mantled Skies,  
far off some Shepherds by a fire espies,  
She fared; hearing the jangling of a Bell:  
Following the which, she came unto a Cell,  
Amidd the shadow of fair spreading trees:  
Through which did breathe a cool refreshing breeze,  
Where the woods burgesses did daily sing  
Sweet Lays unto a pleasant purling Spring,  
That thereby ran: which pleasing melody  
Might well delight, with his rare harmony  
Each mortal creature; whereas she did see  
An old Man clad in russet, on his knee,  
Devoutly mumbling Matins: which good sight,  
At that time cheered her over dulled sprite:  
And till his mourning duties he had ended,  
At th'entrance of the Cell she him attended:  
Which finished, in she went; whom when he spied,  
What wight she was much mused, and more her eyed.  
All in astonied, for silly man he near  
Before that time, like strange sight had seen there.   

If she some Goddess were, he witted not well;  
For of strange Goddesses he had heard tell,  
That would leave haughty heaven, and resort  
To earthly Springs and Groves, to take their sport.  
Or if some Nymph to neighbour-woods belonging,  
He did not know; yet for he had a longing  
To wit what mister wight she was, he did,  
After he thither had her welcome bid,  
Entreat her show, by knowing, which quoth he,  
You may be duly honoured by me?  
To which, medway revived by's courtesy,  
Him mildly answered: Father take not me  
For other than a wretched wight, oppressed  
With mighty grief, who crave but room to rest,  
Till weary limbs I have refreshed again,  
Wherewith from forth her eyes great showers of rain  
Fell down her blubbered cheeks, whereat th'old man  
Ruing her sad distressed state, began  
Entreat her tell the causes of her grief.  
Who (sighing) did her fortunes tell in brief,  
Both how the Satire in the Cave had used her,  
And how therefore her Mistress had refused her:  
Which when the old man heard, ruing her pain:  
Alas fair daughter (quoth he) do not plain,  
For plaints in these extremes do nothing vail:  
And 'tis not good in vain to weep and wail.  
What woman, know there is no malady  
So hard to cure, but hath his remedy.  
jove doth not always forth his thunder cast,  
Nor still doth the hot raging Summer last,  
Still Boreas doth not with impetuous sway,  
Raise mighty tempests in the Ocean Sea.  
Nor will these sorrows daily on thee tend,  
Thy patience proud away from thee they'll wend.  
All humane accidents about do wheel,  
And in one place do never sojourn still,  
No more than this great heaven which daily we,  
To turn with an unwearie course do see:  
Then even as Heaven the which is Fortune's horse source,  
About the earth doth keep a lasting course:  
So must we think those fortunes which do fall,  
Bred by high heaven; yet not perpetual.  
Cold Winter past, the healthy Spring doth come,  
Then choleric Summer, after sick Autumn:  
Nor doth the influence of the heavens each hour,  
Down in one place still good or bad luck power:  
Therefore sad Nymph, since what is thee befall,  
Thou canst by no art back again recall.  
Comfort thyself, and hope that God will send  
To these thy grief, when he sees time, an end.  
In the mean season, and till thou have reared  
Th'unwieldy burden, and thyself hast cheered,  
Stay here with me. So down he willed her sit,  
And ease her weary limbs: who glad of it,  
Did rest herself strait on the dusty ground,  
As glad so good an harbour she had found  
In her great need; as weather beaten Thrush,  
In a great shower is of a sheltering bush.   

Not far from hence where this old man abode,  
Down in a bottom grew a shady Wood:  
By which a River serpenteth so clear,  
That from the bottom each thing doth appear  
Most lively to the curious gazer's sight:  
Hither at any time no Shepherd might  
Drive his rich fleecy bleating flock to graze,  
For reverence of those Nymphs that haunt the place.  
So't fortuned as sad medway walked about  
One day to ease her grief, she did find out  
This pleasant place, where by the River side,  
An entrance through a stony Rock she spied:  
To which she went, and did by steps descend,  
Into a dark some Hall, through which she wend:  
Unto a fair room, lightened all by art,  
For under ground it was, and far apart  
From sight of heaven; the things that there made light,  
Were precious Carbuncles, and Diamonds bright,  
Reflecting Crystals, Rubies cherry red;  
Rich Emeralds, and Opols' discoloured:  
About which room, the antic Images  
Were placed, of many worthy personages.   

Fame saith, that Merline while he lived, did make  
(Doting upon a Lady of the lake)  
This bower, by his great skill at her request,  
And therein placed the pictures of the best,  
And noblest wights that should in Britain be,  
After his death: There sad medway did see,  
On one side, the last man bore name of King,  
In Brutus' long reigning race, who thought to bring  
From Armoric an Host of valiant men,  
To foil the Saxons, that had footing then  
In Britain ta'en, had not him Visions stayed,  
That wild to Rome his journey should be made.   

There was that Rhodericke, the great surnamed,  
Who for dividing Wales, was highly famed:  
And Howel Dha, who ancient laws corrected,  
And Officers to see right done, elected:  
With Griffeth Conon, who victorious reigned  
Full fifty years; and when he peace had gained  
Unto his Country, died: And Llewelline,  
The brave last Prince of ancient British line;  
Whose life by them whom he did trust, betrayed;  
Altered the government which they had swayed  
Two thousand and four hundred years and odd.   

Ay me, that nought on earth hath his abode,  
Hear permanent: ay me, that one man's fall,  
Should be the ruin and decay of all  
His house: ay me, I should have cause to rue  
His loss, whose memory old griefs renew.   

On th' other side, in lively Tables were  
Pictures of Noblemen, and Ladies fair:  
Among all which, those seemed the liveliest,  
That should live under Fair ELIZA'S rest:  
Who though a Woman, yet beyond compare  
Of all the Princes in the world that are:  
For in her reign Arachne busily,  
Maketh her webs in rusty armory:  
And mighty staves by rotten Worms are eaten,  
For want of use, that death had wont to threaten.   

These when she had o'erseen, she further went,  
And to an other Room thereby had meant  
To go, wherein the carved Pictures were,  
Of those that England's royal Crown should wear:  
And reached at the Key that thereby hung,  
But could not moved, so to the wall it clung:  
For that same entrance, cause she was no Maid,  
(Like the fair Empress who the Sceptre swayed)  
Was her denied, for so by hidden skill  
Of Magic's art, and by infernal spell  
'twas framed, that none might have access therein,  
That were defiled with Venerean sin:  
Only she happed through the Keyhole to spy  
The fairest Picture that she ere did see.   

The counterfeit of England's Sovereign,  
ELIZABETH, thrice happy in her reign:  
Under whose rule her Subjects not desire  
To change their state of womanish Empire:  
Who whilst hateful Erinys hell doth leave,  
And both with fire and sword her neighbours grieve,  
And in the murmur of a cruel storm,  
Which threats the machine of the world to harm:  
In peace and quiet doth her Realm maintain;  
Suppressing Will, and suffering justice reign.   

Thou most bright Sun of this our Northern clime,  
Live thou for ever, or live Nestor's time,  
To maintain Arts, as hitherto thoust done;  
For wail the Muses must when thou art gone:  
And if it fortune that at any time,  
(Luckily) this ragged and unpolished Rhythm,  
Into those fair hands fall, that holds the bridle,  
With which thou justly rulest many people;  
Behold it with a favourable eye,  
And think that none can praise thee worthily.   

After the Nymph perceiude she was denied  
The entrance of that room, she would abide  
No longer there, but left the enchanted place;  
And thought return, and show what she that space  
Had seen, unto her Host: but being weary  
Of that unwieldy burden she did carry,  
She sat her down to rest, and by and by,  
Was feign for help unto Lucina cry:  
Who hearing her, strait came, and with her goes  
Some other Nymphs, to help her in her throws:  
Where they to get her, speaking words of ease,  
Did from her womb a little babe release.  
Which by and by they laid in mother's lap,  
Who with salt tears 'gan thus to wail her hap.  
O cruel Mistress (quoth she) that exiled me,  
When a rude Satire 'gainst my will beguiled me.  
Making me wander like a vacabone,  
Through dark woods and over blear hills unknown:  
Or like a Ghost, whose friends forgotten have,  
The senseless corpse to bury in a grave.  
Well hoped I for my long service done,  
A better guerdon than this, to have won:  
But hoped in vain; for woe! my cursed fate  
I now do find: but find it all too late.  
Who serveth thankless folk, shall be rewarded  
Not as they hoped, nor as they have deserved.  
More had she said, had she not been by him  
Even then surprised, that long to Thames had been  
A weary suitor, who then from his Son  
Old Proteas, the skilful God, did come.   

Deep in the Ocean, where yet never ground,  
By longest fathom ●●●…e could ere be found:  
Under a hollow Rock, there is a vault,  
By often beating of great Billows wrought:  
So that it seems to be the noble act,  
Of some rare Mason, or skilled Architect:  
About which secret Cave, do daiy lorke  
Amid the Rocks, the monstrous cruel Ork:  
The admirable Whale, which with great roar,  
another Sea, into the Sea doth pour:  
All with the dead-sleepe charming cold Torpil,  
That knows he carries in his flank, that will  
Decave the traitorous Fisher of his prey:  
And Scolopenders, who into the Sea  
(Caught with sharp hooks) their entrails forth do cast:  
And when the hooks are found, and danger past,  
Receive them in again; where as each one  
His office holds, as he before had done.  
There dwells old Proteus, who by his great skill,  
In the deep secrets of black Magic, will  
Command Apollo stay his foaming horse,  
Pluck down heavens stars, & stop fair Cinthia's course:  
And can great Pluto in his Realm affright,  
When ere him list, to show his powerful might.  
Hear had old Neptune been, in hope to gain  
Some help from him, but then his art proved vain:  
His Circles, Characters, strange words, all used  
In order, number, time, his will refused:  
For sure that art hath no power o'er the soul,  
Nor doth the world afoard an herb so foul:  
Or potion made of poisoned Mineral,  
That can the mind unwilling, make loves thrall:  
Which made Ioues Brother discontent, thence part,  
Despairing ere to ease his grievous smart.  
Since then, his hopes did fail, but as he went,  
He heard a woman woefully lament,  
With piteous plaints her grievous martyrdom:  
And going that way whence the plaints did come,  
Distressed medway, he did hap to spy,  
Bewailing of her Babies misery.  
Whose sight did comfort him that hoped by her,  
He might work means to slake his torturing fire:  
Which to effect and bring about the sooner,  
Knowing her fortunes, thus he strait 'gan woo her.   

The much grief (quoth he) I have borens long,  
Makes me the more to rue thy too much wrong,  
Sad Nymph, all undeserude (I wots) by thee:  
Wherefore if thou'lt, devise, and but tell me  
How I may quench these fires in my breast,  
By fraud or force I pass not, I protest,  
Of all those many Sea-gods wait on me,  
The choice and comeliest I'll besto we on thee,  
To be thy Husband, in thy Mistress place.  
This said, strait medway 'gan to weigh her case,  
And sadly counts the wrongs she had endured,  
The great disgraces near to be recured:  
All by her Mistress, all without desert,  
As she did judge: yet judged she not her part,  
traitorously sell her to her greatest foe,  
Though by her she'd been wronged far much more:  
But, but a small while that thought did possess her,  
So much did Neptunes promised husband press her,  
IT should seem she'd not forgot the sport was made  
Late in the Cave, how ere at last she said:  
If to that place great God where sometime you,  
With all the Sea-gods of your retinue,  
Were by Ocean richly entertained,  
When he proud Thetis to his first wife gained:  
Do go to morrow ere the fiery Sun  
The harness from his horses hath undunne:  
There you that cruel Lady strait shall find,  
That to us both hath proved too unkind:  
Where having caught her, you may force her stench  
Your bleeding wounds, and burning fires quench.  
But be you sure to catch her by some sleight,  
Else will she scape you (for she's wondrous wight)  
And serve you as Coronis hath tofore,  
When she out ran you on Phocaion shore:  
But poor soul she, no sooner told this tale,  
When Neptune being afeard the time would fail,  
If he would longer stay, in haste did high  
To seek his love; which when medway did see,  
Repenting (but too late) that ever he,  
Had her deceived by his flattery;  
Even as a wild Bull darted by some one,  
Gins to roar, and up and down to run  
Amid the press, all fearless of his harm:  
So medway vexed, cause he did not perform  
His oath; and for her fault in conscience stung,  
Void of all patience, furilike flung,  
And oft for spite, her body threw to ground,  
And all for spite her body to confound;  
Till at the last, she with herself did take  
A truce, and summoned sad words, to make  
Her sorrows known; with which the quiet sky  
She vexed, and sighing, thus at last 'gan cry.   

O foolish, that I was foolish and mad,  
To think that false forsworens Neptune had  
Faith in his words, or to imagine he,  
(Changing his nature) would be true to me.   

You hollow Caves, grim Pluto's ancient place,  
You hellish furies, black nights ugly race:  
Thou triple headed Cerberus; and you  
Infernal Floods, O plunge me deep into  
The bottom of that hot abysm, where lie  
Tormented Ghosts in wretched misery.   

O thou the guider of the golden light,  
O thou fair Queen that clearly shinst by night,  
And you bright Stars that wander in the Skies,  
If you have power over our Destinies,  
And that you be both of our good and ill,  
The only authors, than together will  
So many mischiefs on my head to light,  
As can, or may, upon a wretched wight.  
And thus as she lamented in despair,  
Her tattered Garments she in pieces taire:  
And her two snowwhite hands plaighted together,  
Enraged she wrong, and thumped without measure▪  
Her tender Arms against the senseless ground,  
And her small Babe (strange tale) being unbound,  
And laid along upon the soft green grass;  
No sooner touched the earth, but strait ways was  
O'ergrown with earth; and from her tooes out went  
Small writhing roots in uncouth wonderment.  
And her small body being lessoned,  
Into a small long stalk was fashioned.  
To Flags her fingers changed: and last of all,  
Her Head turned to that plant we Cats-talle call.   

Which wondrous change, when medway saw, she mourned,  
'Cause to so vile a plant the Gods had turned  
Her guiltless Baby; till at last even she  
Did like to snow, that on the Alps doth lie  
All Winter time; which when as western winds,  
Together with the warmth of Sun unbindes,  
The clodded lumps to water strait doth change,  
Making small Brooks, as down hill it doth range:  
For she consuming unto watery tears,  
Was to a River turned; the which now bears  
Th'unfortunate Nymphs name, fallen by the fault,  
Which in the Gave was by the Satire wrought.   
Finis Lib. second   

THAMESEIDOS, Liber Tertius.  

IN all the world so great an enemy,  
Either to man, or man's felicity  
There never was, if we do judge aright,  
And be not led away with blinded sight,  
Then is our own o'erbold severity: 〈◊〉  
For still thereby fit opportunity,  
Our foes have for to cease on us, before  
We think that they are near aboard the shore:  
Witness fair Thames, who doubting nought at all,  
Was nigh surprised, and made God Neptune's thrall:  
Who next day, when Hyperion's son began  
To drive his Chariot to the Ocean,  
Arrived in the Meadow where as she  
Was sporting in her maidens company:  
Whom happily fair Thamisis espied;  
And spying, her fair lovely cheeks (strait) died  
With a Vermilion blush, abashed as  
Naked Diana 'mongst her Maidens was:  
Then when she in the clear Gargaphian Spring,  
By th'hapless Nephew of the Theban King  
Unwares was found; and from the place strait fled,  
Leaving her Maids behind all in the Mead:  
A way she ran, as raging storms doth fly,  
Tumbling up clouds within the fable sky,  
Near looking back, nor making any stay:  
So feared she the sovereign of the Sea.   

Not half so fast distressed Florimell  
Fled from the sight of that Hyena fell,  
Which the despiteful Witch after her scent,  
To bring her back, and her in pieces rend.  
Nor half so fast from Phoebus Daphne fled,  
As ISIS now, to save her maidenhead:  
Whereat the Lord of the unconstant Sea  
Did chafe, yet loath that she should get away,  
He 'gan with sugared speeches for to woo her,  
But all was spent in vain, that he said to her.   

Thou that my soul holds captive in thine eyes,  
(Quoth he) and still new torments dost devise  
To plague me, stay; and those hot fires fee,  
That burning in my breast, have vexed me  
Ere since the shafts which from thy sparkling stars  
Did come▪ and wounded me all unawares:  
And in thy golden hair my heart was ta'en,  
Which now despairs t'have freedom ere again:  
But bootless were these Words; which seeing, he  
A loud unto her, thus again 'gan cry.   

Stay cruel ISIS, harder far than Flint,  
And rougher than the Oak on Ida, stint  
Thy hasty pace; and cause the Nimphos thou dost  
Excel in fairness, do not therefore boast;  
But think, that as thy flood bears to my realm,  
with an infatigable course his stream,  
Returning near again unto his head:  
So th'hour the day, the day thy youth will lead,  
Till on it death, or wrinkled age will seize:  
Which come, thou'lt rue the time which thou didst lease.  
Love therefore while as time is offered thee,  
And while thou mayst again like loved be:  
For times do change and alter every day,  
And in those times we change, and do decay:  
Then present time's better, than time to come,  
Since Golden, Silver, Brazen age, is done;  
And nought is left, but Irons cankered rust,  
Which daily turneth all from worse to worst.  
Look but upon the fair sweet scenting Rose,  
Which cropped from the tree whereon he grows,  
Strait loseth all the fairness that it had:  
And know, thy beauty one day, so will fade.   

Nor think thou canst the Gods in heaven excel,  
Since thundering love, loves fire could not quell.  
Since bright Apollo spite of all his art,  
With Cupid's shafts, was wounded to the heart:  
Since the fair Cyprian Queen, wanton loves Mother,  
By no means could her youngling fire smother:  
And that Diana on Endymion doted,  
Yet for a maid, and chaste, is still reputed.  
But rather think, though now from love thou'rt free,  
That love will one day show his power on thee.  
Thou knowest, how late disdainful Ardea,  
Who Glaucus scorned; a God, and of the Sea:  
Had her due merits on thy maiden's strand.  
Be warned by her, that God which can commund▪  
The greatest Gods, will take revenge on thee,  
If thus thou dost persist in cruelty:  
And if thou know'st me not, then stay and view  
What one he is, that for thy love doth sue.  
I am not one that haunts the craggy Rocks,  
Yet Lord of Seas: nor tend I fleecy flocks,  
From whom thou fleest, I think thou dost not know;  
For if thou didst, thou wouldst not use me so.  
Were I a savage, that man's flesh doth eat,  
A foul black Moor, a Tartar, or a Get:  
Had I been fostered in Hyrcanian wood,  
By wild bears milk, or cruel tigers blood:  
Then mightst thou scorn me justly, and hold me  
Too too presumptuous, thus to follow thee:  
Then mightst thou have excuse, and not be blamed,  
To let me die, with beauty's fire inflam'd.   

But I in Seas keep Court, my Temples stand.  
At Isthmus, and within Calabria land.  
In Italy the people do me honour,  
And jove himself is known to be my brother.  
With crooked Keel men learned first by me,  
To cut the Seas; and tame the Horse was free.  
And though my Beard seem white, my Carcase old,  
Prove me, and thou shalt find me hot and cold:  
Prove me, my arteries wants no strength: and though  
That I seem light, yet have I pith enough.  
Still pleasure shall yield force unto my rains:  
Prove, I will not deceive thee of thy pains,  
For oft unidelie I have spent the night,  
And when I rose, I have been fresh and light:  
O run no further then, but stay and prove,  
Stay, and let's mutually joy others love.  
Feign more he would have spoke, but she afraid,  
Fled fast away, not heeding what he said:  
And as she ran, so meeting winds did blow,  
That naked skin above her knee did show,  
And her gold hair now fallen lose and slack,  
At every step did wave behind her back:  
All which, far more did set his heart a fire,  
And far more did increase his hot desire,  
So that he lustily did mend his pace,  
Hoping to catch her, whom he had in chase.   

But as a Pirate hath been long at Sea,  
Whose Ship foul and unwashed, makes but small way,  
Doth ne'ertheless if that he spies a chase,  
Unto his courses strait his drabblers lace,  
And up a trip hoist topsailes, though in vain,  
For foul, the more they sail, the less they gain:  
So was it twixt fair ISIS and her foe;  
For she more lighter, did him fair outgo.  
Which when he saw, vexed to be so crossed,  
Even like a Tiger fell, the which hath lost  
Unwares her sucking Whelps, doth rage and fling,  
Amid the shrubs and bushes that do spring,  
On Ganges golden strand so took he on,  
Stamping and stareing like a frantic man.  
After staying his rage, and looking round about:  
In broken speeches thus he did break out.   

Now Heavens, I see my Godhead is but small:  
My power far less, my might just nought at all:  
But shall I leave her tho? No, I will after:  
And never lin, till these same hands have caught her:  
Yet she is young and wight, I o●●e and slow:  
And as I follow, she doth me outgo.  
Oh Cupid, why art thou mine enemy,  
And to my grief dost give no remedy?  
Why add'st thou stars to heaven? leaves to green trees?  
Why gathered waters, unto grown Seas?  
Why dost thou make me languish for that Lady,  
That is more coy, then ever I knew any?   

Yet you mine eyes were cause first of this same,  
For thorough you descended beauty's flame:  
That in mine entrails burns like Mongibell,  
But were mine eyes in fault? no I wots well,  
Had my weak mind ore-rulde my greedy eye,  
Then from this torment had I now been free.  
Here did he stop again, and as you see,  
Some well skilled actor in a tragedy,  
Whose purpose bent to execute his will,  
Is countermanded by some unlooked ill,  
Falls like a mad man in a raging vain:  
Even so did he, and thus began again.   

My Harvest is in Grass, I now do see,  
And fear that it ripe Corn will never be:  
What tho; I am the self same God that hath  
The Sceptre of the Seas, who in my wrath  
Can cause my raging Billows to arise:  
And armed with fury, buckle with the skies;  
Then shalt be said, that I shall suffer this,  
And thus be crossed by scornful Thamisis?  
No? Who will then acknowledge me a King?  
Or on my Altars offer any thing?  
'tis only force must purchase me, what Love  
And my long woeing, from her near could move;  
And though it be not gotten by constraint;  
But kind and gentle mean (they say) must gaint.▪  
Yet since I long have gently wooed her,  
And all in vain; by reverend Styx I swear,  
Hence forth I will no ●●●ger woe, nor sew,  
But ha'er in spite of all that she can do.   

O which of all the sacred Muses now,  
Shall I entreat to show the base means how  
False Neptune sought to gain his wished pleasure:  
But one's too few, help therefore all together;  
For well I wots, you hearing her sad chance,  
Did leave your Springs 'bout which you wont to dance,  
And went to wail with her sad Maidens, which  
Did nothing else but cry, nought else but screech.   

Now weary Phoebus had unharnised  
His fiery steeds, and got himself to bed  
To his fair Love: and now the sable Night  
Had caused sleep cease upon each mortal wight.  
When Neptune caused his Coach be brought to him,  
The which two yoked Delphins makes to skim  
o'er the large furrows of his spacious plains,  
In which he mounted, and with scaly reigns,  
Governed their heads; seated in ivory,  
Like a great Prince adorned with majesty,  
Bearing his three tind Trident in his hand:  
Whom Glaucus being accomp'ned with a band  
Of Tritons, follows till unto the ground  
They came, where winds in Irons fast they found:  
A cloudy Country, compassed all with Hills:  
Where wrestling winds with blusterous blasting fills:  
From darksome Caves sent out the foggy air:  
There Aeolus within a stately Chair  
He found, holding his royal Mace in hand,  
With which th'unruly Winds he doth command,  
Whom Neptune in this manner did entreat.   

King Aeolus, for thee my brother set  
To rule the Winds according to thy pleasure,  
To let them loose, or keep them locked together.  
On farthest shores of Ocean Seas there lies  
A pleasant Island, in triangle wise,  
Which on the East the mouth of Rhyne doth face,  
With a great Angle, and from thence apace  
Withdraws his shoring sides, butting proudly  
France with the one, with th'other Germany:  
Which Island, doth in honour far surpass  
Create; which my brother Jove's nurse whilom was.  
Nor may with it ●● Samos or Rhodes compare:  
o'er which, once juno, or and loves Queen had care:  
For there within that land, no living wight  
Hath want of needful thing, or sweet delight:  
Nor are they scared with blasts of bloody fears,  
Which braying Trumpet sounds in fearful ears;  
But of the murdering and life quelling blade,  
For Husbandmen there hooked Scythes oft are made,  
And housewives there do hive the little Bee,  
In rusty Casks that by the walls do lie.  
In this, there is a cruel, but fair Maid,  
Within whole hair, deceitful Love once made,  
Sly subtle Nets, by which all closely wrought,  
My fainting senses troytrously he caught,  
When least suspecting; ravished at her sight,  
They on her rareness fed with great delight:  
And now six Moons with borrowed brother's light,  
Six times have shynd, and six times out of sight  
Been, since I her 'gan woe; but all in vain,  
For from my suit is sprung nought but disdain:  
Fowl scorns, that mock me and my deity,  
And frowning looks, all void of piety.  
That Dame whose loss of life and chastity,  
Freed Rome from servile yoke of tyranny.  
And that fair Isbell who would lose her head,  
Rather than yield to Pagans lustful bed,  
Were not so coy, as is Doris proud daughter;  
Witness those means, whereby so oft I sought her:  
Therefore th'untamed winds, at my request,  
Send out against her, that by them oppressed,  
She may without conditions yield to me,  
And I thereby recure my malady.   

Now I'll enlarge thy straighted kingdoms bounds,  
And give to thee thy bordering neighbours grounds;  
If yielding, thou assents to me in this,  
And help me get my wished Thamisis.  
This he with feigned sighs so uttered,  
That foolish Aeolus thought all he said  
To be as true, and therefore pitying  
The languishing estate of the old King;  
Without advisement, strait made his reply.   

Thrice Noble Neptune, whose dominions lie  
Beyond the borders of the ruddy Ind:  
If I, or all my power, can bring to end,  
What you desire, in us shall want no will:  
And therewith did he strike thorough an hill  
His Mace; whence strait a crew of hellish mates  
In crowds came thronging forth the Iron gates;  
Whose chief was Boreas, who with violent sway,  
Doth chase the pestered Clouds, and toss the Sea:  
Who in his rage doth turn up knotty Oaks,  
And beats the ground in hail with sturdy strokes;  
Who trembling Ghosts doth vex in Stygian lake;  
And got in Caves, makes all the world to quake:  
To whom turning, thus flattering Neptune said,  
You in your fury, make the world afraid:  
turmoiling earth and seas, I did not lock  
You, fettered with these strong gives in this Rock;  
But frowning Jove, whose will for law must stand.  
Nor with like tyranny do I command,  
You know: for in my Realm you may be bold,  
Not any one gainsaying what you would.  
Therefore stout Boreas, if Orithia thou  
Didst ere entirely love, assist we now,  
T'obtain my love: who far unlike to thine,  
Both scorns my person, and what else is mine.  
Scarce this was said, when sturdy Boreas 'gan  
To flask his wings: with waving which even than  
He raised a storm, and with his company,  
Mad, and enraged, with fury thence did fly:  
And like fierce Dogs, long time in Irons chained,  
And long in darksome kennelles have remained:  
Once broken lose, run raging here and there,  
And all they meet, with ravening teeth do tear.  
So these same villains now at liberty,  
And freed from fetters, do a-madding fly.  
Troubling each place with their impetuous sway,  
And made the world seem like a dismal day:  
Until they came where lovely Thames abode,  
Whom they did chase; base villains, rude, and wood:  
Not weighing aught the wrong she offered had,  
Nor yet the plaints which her sad maidens made.   

But like how oft in stormy rainy weather,  
The waters falling twenty hours together,  
The floods made proud thereby above their bounds,  
Do swell and overflow the meadow grounds.  
With the great fury of their overflowing,  
Driving small Birds away from trees by growing:  
Small Birds which on the spray had built their nests,  
And causing fishes, as unwonted guests  
To harbour in their room: so ISIS was  
Forced by the woodness of fell Boreas:  
To leave her maidens pleasant companies,  
Who filled the air with hoarse unwonted cries  
For her departure being ill opayd,  
As Niobe, Amphion's Queen is said,  
When all her brood, the darlings of her joy,  
Latona's children did for spite destroy.  
The hollow sandy banks that wont rebound,  
To their rare charming music; a sweet ground,  
Sent now unpleasant Echoes, like the notes  
Came through the hollow of their feeble throats.   

The light foot Fairies, and th' Oreades,  
The Dryads, Hamadriads, and the Naiads,  
Who oft delighted with their harmony,  
Did by their streams keep ISIS company:  
Now hearing all theses Nymphs so heavily mourn,  
Like heavily at once unto them goane,  
Near Thetis so bewailed stout Peleus' son,  
When Coward Paris him to death had done.   

Never halcyon with like grief did mourn,  
On sandy sea shore her dear spouse forlorn:  
Nor was the sorrow my Phebe did make,  
When death her dere-ling forth her lap did take,  
Though down her cheeks did issue brackish seas,  
To be compared unto the sorrow, these  
Sad doleful Nymphs did make, when they did see  
The fair haired Thames in such extremity:  
For like a Mead, despoiled of his flowers;  
A goodly Picture, rob of her colours:  
Like to the Heaven, if all his Stars were lost;  
A goodly Ship, wanting her Sails and Mast:  
So fair eyed ISIS wanting, seemed that place;  
Who thereof was the flower, the beauty, and grace:  
And when as words free passage had obtained,  
Of pressing griefs, their harms they thus complained.   

O who (quoth they) will make whole Seas fall down  
Our blubbered cheeks, where we ourselves may drown?  
Or what God, full of pity shall we call,  
Who th'end our woes, to Rocks will turn us all?  
From hence forth, Pleasure be thou banished  
Out of this wretched place, and in thy stead  
Let ugly sorrow daily on us tend.  
And thou bright Sun, would thou from hence wouldst wend,  
And let thy light in misty clouds be penned,  
For darkness best besitteth discontent:  
And take her with thee, who borrows her light  
From the clear rays of thy most glorious sight:  
Take her, which oft amidd her Nymphs doth play  
On Cinthus hill, and often times doth stay  
'mongst Stygian Hags: for Thames dear to you both,  
Is forced to fly, for fear of Neptune's wrath.  
And thou that wrapst all in forgetfulness,  
And mortal folk dost ease of heaviness,  
Under thy black wings bringing divers dreams  
From forth Cimmerian fields, now hide the beams  
Proroceeding from the Stars in th'Hemisphere,  
And make a general darkness every where.  
And Phylomell, since thou art wont to moan,  
Remembering still the great disgrace was done  
By thy false brother, help us to lament:  
Or if thy mourning notes are fully spent,  
Then give a quiet ear to that we say,  
For we huge wrongs in sad tunes will display.  
And you o Trees, in whom there life doth rest,  
Show forth some sign, as pitying our unrest.  
Let little Birds be silent on your spray:  
And on your boughs, let Ravens croope by day.  
But you that late your branches down did bend,  
From Thames fair face, the Sunbeams to defend,  
Now in despite, to ground your branches throw,  
Since Thames is gone, to show you wail her woe.   

You Lilies white, whom whiter hands did gather:  
And you fair blooming Roses, Nature's treasure,  
Upon yourselves sad sable Weeds bestow,  
Since Thames is gone, to show you wail her woe.  
She was the Rose, the Lily of the day,  
Whose leaves b'vntimely storms, do fall away:  
Oh echo all this place, with mouring fill,  
And mark the doleful accents of our ill.  
Sound forth our grief, and let them never end,  
Until the Heavens our fortunes do amend.  
Oh let our just complainings loud and shrill,  
Thorough these winding waters wander still,  
Whereby those seas that on our shores do flow,  
Our heavy grief to foreign lands may show:  
And on their banks let never trees more grow,  
Since Thames is gone, as sign you wail her woe.  
And thou great Jove, if any care thou hast  
Of earth, or earthly things, O do thou haste,  
And save her from false Neptune's treachery,  
Who honoured still thy sacred deity:  
Save who the corners of thine Altars did  
Purple continually with lukewarm blood.  
But o! it seems great Jove, thou hast no care  
Of us, nor of this world; but it doth ere,  
At all adventure: for if that you had  
Regard of human things, or if you made  
Esteem of us, your own hands workmanship;  
Then would you of sad ISIS take some keep,  
And her protect from Neptune, who a'mine  
Doth seek her spotless chastity to stain:  
And he should not, that hath so laboured  
T'abuse chaste Maidens, scape unpunished:  
Wherefore since Heaven, and all therein are deaf,  
And hearing not, can not amend our grief,  
Let us be gone, and cease hence forth to plain,  
For all our plaints are spent, but all in vain.   

This said, they all arose, all ill apaid,  
And thence departed, in despair of aid  
From heaven, or else where; vexing still the skies,  
With their hot scalding sighs and grievous cries:  
But nor the cries, nor sighs, did ISIS good,  
Whom Boreas foul uncivil Groom stark wood,  
Did with a crew of wicked mates pursue,  
As she some Felon were, or wight untrue:  
Who poor soul, seeing how she was o'erborne,  
Like piteous plaints did make, and so did mourn,  
As with her husband Epimethius daughter  
Did then when they could see nothing but water;  
When only they of all mankind bereft,  
Amid the billows of the Seas were left.  
Then when themselves were solely left in woe,  
And saw no land, nor any fellows more,  
And fearing least at last she might be caught,  
By that foul Lecher, who this wrong first wrought:  
With hands lift up, she thus besought great Jove.   

Hear thou great Father of the Gods above,  
By whom all's made, maintained, and disposed,  
And from whom nought on earth is undisclosde:  
Who full of equity, dost all things right,  
And wicked folk beholds with eyes of spite.  
Hear and behold the miserable state,  
Of me thy Daughter, doleful, desolate.  
These tears, ay me, that from mine eyes do fall,  
For secure at thy helping hands do call.  
Oh let not then my foe obtain his will,  
On me poor Maid: nor let the winds fulfil  
The treason that he hath devised 'gainst me:  
But force them all retire, and backwardly flee,  
To their abode; O pity me I pray,  
Lest following ages do hereafter say,  
In vain thou holds the thunder in thy hand,  
Not helping those that help of thee demand.   

So prayed Thamisis, and strait great Jove,  
Shaking his head, thrice thundered from above,  
In sign he heard, and called Mercury,  
Charging him strait unto Aeolia high,  
And tell the King when first I did accord,  
Over the wrestling winds, to make him Lords  
I gave in charge he no man should oppress,  
But seek still offered injuries to redress.  
But since with Neptune, he confederate is,  
To wrong my tender darling Thamesis:  
If he his winds do not in haste reclaim,  
By Sytx tell him, to his eternal shame,  
Like how with Titan's rude rebellious race,  
I whilom dealt: so will I him disgrace.   

Yet for this wrong, which is already done,  
At what time, twixt the place where sets the Sun,  
And the right Northern Pole, there doth appear,  
By Cassiopeia, seated in her Chair:  
Within that milky way, made by my Queen,  
A blazing Comet, like fire flaming sheen;  
Which shall be ere Apollo eight times leads  
About the Zodiac his trampling steads:  
Two princely Beasts shall come from Thames cool stream  
Which shall more dammadge do undo his Realm,  
Then did that mighty Boor Diana sent,  
The Field of Calydon to spill or rend:  
All (quoth he) in revenge he durst attempt,  
To wrong her, whom from wrong I have exempt.   

This said, fair Maia's Son the subtle God,  
taking in haste his dead sleep charming rod,  
And winged shoes, did leave the crystal sky,  
Ioues princely Palace, where continually  
Th'erratic stars in their sweet harmony,  
Do make rare sounds of heavenly melody:  
And down from thence, unto this lower world,  
Swifter than thunder bolt, himself he hurled,  
And sought King Aeolus: to whom he strait,  
The purport of his coming, did dilate.   

Have any ere in May a Garden seen,  
With divers flowers enameled fresh and green,  
And it reviews when Phoebus is declined  
Unto the Southern pole, the same doth find  
O'ergrown with wild weeds, and with stinking grass;  
Now would have said, in Aeolus there was  
Like change, hearing great Ioues Ambassador:  
For never was he troubled so before,  
Save when his nephews bawling did detect,  
His children's lewd crime, and incestuous fact:  
For which, the guiltless Babe as punishment,  
He cast to Dogs, which it in piecemeal rend;  
And to desilde Canace, sent a sword;  
With which her own self to the heart she gored:  
For he much feared Jove his Sovereign,  
Knowing he might depose him from his Reign  
And regal power: therefore t'amend his fault,  
And please the angry God, Postillians strait  
He after Boreas sent, and did command  
To bring them back, and cease their suit in hand:  
Who never stayed, till they the winds had found,  
And brought them back, and them again had bound  
In their base bonds of during Iron, wrought  
Long since in Aetna by the Cyclops: taught  
Their art by Limping Vulcan, who was placed there  
To be Jove's workman, and the chief Forge-maister;  
Whereby distressed Thamesis was freed,  
From those that had her overthrow decreed  
And back returned to her sad Nymphs, whom she  
Did find, her loss bewailing heavily:  
Who when they saw her first, fared like to her  
Hath but one Son; that for a Soldier  
priest, in his Prince's service forth is gone,  
To keep his Country from invasion;  
Whom fearing to be drowned in the deep,  
Or by hard steel sent t'euerlasting sleep,  
She doth bewail as dead, and will not be  
When he returns, from death and danger free,  
Persuaded 'tis her Son, but some vain sight,  
That would with idle shadows her delight,  
Till her cold fears are past; for all of them  
thinking her wholly lost, thought they had seen  
Her shadow, not herself, till she spoke to them:  
What time assured, they all received her,  
As an Hungarian Father doth his heir,  
And only Son: which hath a longsome time,  
'mongst hated Turks, in hellish prison line:  
Their sighs to songs, their tears now almost spent,  
They turned to laughter, and to merriment;  
And thanked the motor of the whirling Spheres,  
That had not them forgot drowned in tears.   

But stay my Muse, the Sky is fair and clear,  
The Seas are calm, no wind doth whistle here;  
Hear let us anchor then, for here we may  
●●de ●afe, to morrow being Holiday.