THE Poet's Willow: OR, The Passionate Shepherd: With sundry delightful, and no less Passionate Sonnets: describing the passions of a discontented and perplexed LOVER. divers compositions of verses concording as well with the Lyric, as the Anacreonticke measures; never before published: Being reduced into an exact and distinct order of metrical extractions.  
Artem qui tractant Musicam, haec legant, & Poesem ament.  
Author: Impress.  
Nec mori timeo, nec opto.  
Imprinted at London by JOHN BEALE, for Samuel Rand, and are to be sold at his shop at Holborn bridge. 1614   

TO THE RIGHT WORTHY GENTLEMAN MASTER WILLIAM ASCHAM REPLENISHED WITH THE BOUNTIES OF Art and Nature.  Molli discumba▪ via. Scu Haec via illi summa. 

IF those be patrons fittest for our labours,  
Whose virtuous actions merit our respect,  
Who fitter than yourself for to protect,  
Our infant Poems with your mature favour?  
Whose fragrant bosom ever had that savour,  
And perfect relish, that the pure effect  
Of your sincerest love would think no shame,  
To take in worth what from Parnassus came.   

Believe me Sir, those many well tuned strains  
Of your concording virtues have produced  
These harsher poems: let me be excused  
Sith what I write concerns poor homely swains.  
That used to frolic in the spacious plains,  
My muse with no Cadmean drops infused  
Shelters her humble self under your wing,  
Which if you grant, she may securely sing.   

Call but to mind the seedplot of your youth,  
Stagyras wellspring, Britons Hesperie,  
Which at one time received both you and me,  
You to grow up, me to admire your growth,  
Hoping to see that which might glad us both.  
Your inward graces, graced outwardly.  
For now my Poems relish when they find  
So great a fortune in so great a mind.   

If I should speak but what I do conceive,  
I should make stale those merits of your own,  
In showing them which be already shown,  
Yet if I were but able to engrave,  
In monumental tablets, you should have  
The highest place because the highest grown  
In ripe and pregnant judgement which approve,  
Both art and nature bear you special love.   

Long may you flourish in the growth of time,  
To be a refuge to the muses nine,  
Divinest shades should shadow powers divine,  
That when poor Celsus writes in ragged rhyme,  
He may receive protection by your shrine,  
Whose beauteous rays with more perfection shine,  
Then the malignant censures of the worst  
Shall ere raze out, if that their gall should burst.   

More could I write (for subject had I still,  
Of writing more and more,) but modesty  
Tells me your virtues would not praised be,  
For virtues praise doth from herself distill,  
Wherefore I curbed th'intention of my will,  
joying to see these honours which I see,  
So well portrayed in you, that your worth,  
Makes the earth glory in so great a birth.   
Your virtues admiror humbly devoted, RICHARD BRATHWAYT●.   

Hinc mea musa gemit, quae seria non sera currit,  
Non matura satis carmina: causa nimis.  
Upon the illustrate Prince Henry, the Authors long meditated tears: Draigned from a fresh renewing spring ever distilling: Some whereof the passionate Elegiake offers to His never dying monument.  

DOst weep to see him dead? or thou dost come  
To view him living in his dying tomb?  
Living (said I) and dying? yes: his death  
Seems to infuse in him a living breath,  
That being dead to earth, earth might transpose,  
His earthy corpse unto eternal joys.   

Deadiyes, and alive too; this seems strange:  
For single death he gets a double change:  
Of life and death: death to shut up his eyes,  
Life to enthrone him in heavens paradise.  
●ere heir unto a king, but there he sings  
A glorious p●ean to the king of kings.   

A good exchange: what better? none to thee,  
Translated prince: yet no change worse to me,  
And to the state: O envy that our will  
Should so depraved be, to wish him ill,  
For our own private good: Great good indeed,  
And to be wished for: O where shall we read   

So many virtues charactered in youth,  
So rare a mirror in the Court of truth.  
So pure intentions seconded by same.  
So hopeful divinations in his name.  
So general affection as near any,  
In one heart, kept the hearts of half so many.   

Is't then impiety to weep, or show  
Our zeal to him? whom there was none did know  
That by relation wept not; O I see,  
In every face the face of Niobe,  
Senseless and speechless: yet in sense and speech  
Thus much entire affection seems to teach  
Posterity hereafter: as't appears  
Both sense and speech supplied are by tears.   

Tears inundation, so as we might fear,  
And not without just cause some deluge near,  
But that we see a rainbow which portends  
Heaven has imposed unto our sorrows ends  
And limits, which o'er past can hardly be,  
So soon slip griefs out of our memory.  
So soon? indeed too soon: poems in black  
Resemble the blacks we wear upon our back.  
Which whilst we follow the sad mournful beer,  
Some more for fashion then compassion wear.   

Unworthy mourners, do your griefs extend  
No further? must your tears with his blessed end  
Expire together? why than I pray re●ire  
Let our sole notes sith that our notes be higher  
And far more shrill, supply your place: i'll find  
Motives of grief unto th'immotiu'sts mind.  
You are blind with tears, I but of late began,  
One eye may see more than another can▪   

Why should men think th'invention half so rare,  
Or worth record: to bring a stream: from Ware,  
Of pure spring water? for without less charge  
I could have dreind a river full as large  
Without ere pumping for't: and with a sluice  
As artificial: which could no way choose  
(Such is the force of an obsequious pity)  
But convey water to most parts o'th' city.   

And this without a Jacob's staff, or aught  
Save the dimensions of an airy thought;  
Which measures each proportion, only grief  
Excepted, which the measure of relief  
Could never compass: yet there would be fault  
In my conveyance, for my spring is salt  
And mixed with briny vapours which distill▪  
Like pond or marish waters from a hill.  
But theirs more sweet, so could I mine allay,  
If I had been at so much cost as they.   

Next wonder that we have observed this year,  
Is that the winter did like spring appear,  
Garnished with varied flowers, and every sweet  
Chequered with borders for the Sylvans meet  
To frolic on: and why? they are of that nature,  
That when they're merry, they presage some creature  
Of worth or admiration must commend,  
Their bones to rest by some approaching end.   

Ill natured bugbears, why should you delight,  
To see that sun lodge in eternal night  
That gave a lustre with his sparkling eye  
To every plant within his Monarchy  
Each humble spray or flower that grew i'th' field  
Of honour, would he honour with his shield  
Of eminent respect▪ respect less you,  
That never give to merit what's her due.   

But I must cease, that I may weep the more,  
For ceaseless though I weep, I have tears in store  
Two buckets to one well, both of them goes,  
The one for my tears, the other for my woes,  
That tears and woes contracted both in one,  
May pierce in time this monumental stone.    

THE Argument of this Treatise.  
BERILLUS an Arcadian shepherd, who frequented the flowery plains of Ida; and indeed no less musical, then pastoral: For his learning famous, for his measure in all compositions curious, for his censure in modern presentments, no less affected, then by his fellow-inhabitants admired; fell in love with a Nymph of the adjoining mountain, height Eliza: of parentage honourable, of beauty incomparable, and endowed with all graces internal; which made her no less beloved, then desired, even of the greatest: for her demerits were such, as Arcadia resounded with her praises, Long had she (even of ●● natural love unto retiredness) sequestered herself from the public concourse of the world, professing as it seemed a ves●all life: when now (being of great expectancy, as the only daughter to her father) she● was moved by her friends to address herself for proceedings both more answerable to her Fortunes, more correspondent to the general intentions of her friends, and more aequivalent to her years, being now in the flower of her Time, and increase of estate. After a modest, yet halfe-assenting repugnance, she condescended to their request: leaving Vesta and her retired habitations, and now consecrating her lays and hymns to Hymen, wishing no doubt, his furtherance to her otherwise affected disposition. It chanced that (on a solemn festival day) when all shepherds leaving their pastures, and making recourse to a Temple erected near to the foresaid mountain, they offered sacrifice to Pan (the shepherds God) that he would preserve their flocks, & give increase unto their herds, according to the custom of Rome, where the Lupercalia be solemnized by the mountain Palatine: the Parilia were kept in honour of Pales, for the preservation of cattle: such were the feasts of these Arcadian shepherds. Now in the performance of their vows to Pan, ere their solemnities were half finished, came in Eliza with other amiable maids, to see the order (as it seemed) of the shepherds in the celebration of their festivals. The passionate shepherd Berillus, who before had conceived no little affection of the demure carriage, modest gate, and well-respected, & reputed conversation of Eliza, had no sooner fixed his eyes on her, than his sacrifice was ended, his devotion cooled, and those many orisons which he made to Pan, converted to the honour of his Saint & shrine Eliza. Much love he professed by his eye: for though Pan had his knees, yet that honour was but external, Eliza had his heart, no less reverencing her presence, than he did Pan with outward appearance. Eliza at last observed (as what woman, if fair, knows not her Beauty?) that irreverberate fixing of his eyes, by the transparent characters of his looks, measuring his love, she (not to daunt the poor shepherd) gave him a modest smile, which gave no less content to Berillus, then if Pan had descended and confirmed their vows with his presence.  
The sacrifice ended: yet the flame which appeared at the sacrifice not extinguished in the love sick shepherds breast, continued his passions, not hopeless, because resolved such Beauteous colours could not be soiled with the blemish of a remorseless heart: but as the Syreus never portend more rain, then when their voice is most delightful, nor the Crocodyle more pernicious, then when feigned semblances show her tears most remorseful, so this bitter sweet, seemed to entertain pity, and to accept of the poor shepherds sacrifice, registering his sobs, sighs, and unfeigned passions in the Tablet of her heart: vowing acceptance if her parents assent confirmed her election. But see that general vice (innate to her sex,) levity of mind, estranged her intentions, and made the forlorn shepherd more wretched, in that his former hopes had made him blessed: she contemns his gifts, scorns his suit, plays upon his simplicity: so as the shepherd surprised with a sympathy of passions, in that his hopes and great expectances are made abortments: proined of their expected growth, and blasted in the prime of his affections, sits descanting of his discontents: making his pipe the surdon of his sorrow: to express his languishments more fully, in an abrupt strain of discords (as that harmony best suits with his present fortunes) lying dejected on the ground (best repose for his declining hopes) thus intimates his own misery: shadowing (though covertly) woman's inconstancy: shutting up his ode with this conclusion: They are happy, who have seen (and by seeing) have been cautioned of a lovers misery, and woman's obduracy, hating where they propound most evident and infallible Testimonies of their sincerest love.   

THE PASTORAL.  

IN Arcady, a place of great renown  
Famous for flowery pastures, there remained  
A youthful shepherd, who upon the down,  
Hight Ida's plain, such honour had obtained  
Amongst all shepherds by his trophies gained,  
And worthy feats in every May game shown  
That his achievements were so glorious grown,  
As he the flower of shepherds still was named  
Nor of that honour might he be ashamed,  
For many shepherds then there were▪ whose grace  
In active fears put Heroes out of place.   

Tmolus was one of such a noble spirit▪  
Adorned with beauty and perfection too.  
That in all actions he the 〈◊〉 did merit  
Decking with laurel his victorious brow.  
Was praised of all, yet never would he hear it,  
Nor of vain glory least appearance show:  
Such store of graces from his mind did flow;  
Of able body, and of pregnant wi●,  
That even these times have much admired it:  
For many lays would Tmolus oft-times make  
In divine measures for Amyclas sake.   

Next him was Thyrsus of a comely hue  
A pure complexion, and a pleasant grace,  
Who to his friends proved faithful still and true,  
With painted smile near would he soil his face:  
For he descended from a noble race,  
As his admired virtues still did show:  
For fame and honour ever did revew,  
The spacious mansions of this shepherds place  
Walking with honour in his parents trace,  
Such was this Thyrsus (Thyrsus was his name)  
Nor of that title might he think't a shame.   

Pelorus was the third, a lusty swain  
That used to graise his cattle by the river  
Euenus' height: where oft he would complain,  
Of his hardhearted love: nor would he ever,  
Those pensive odes (in silent woes) contain  
But chants his passions over and over again:  
Such briny streams could be exempted never,  
For light (which lightsome seems) his joys dissever  
Making his comforts barren: O how fain  
Would he have glad himself with harmony,  
But what he sought could not effected be.   

O my Laerte (would this shepherd say)  
Why dost exile me from thy presence dear?  
Why shouldst thou with thy louvre benight my day,  
And rack my entrails with perpetual fear?  
I pray thee (love) more cheerfully appear,  
Feed not my passions with a long delay,  
But let the night at last my griefs allay,  
That I some pleasant harmony may hear,  
Sounding a concord in my doleful ear,  
O be so kind, that if no day, yet night  
May yield me comfort and renew delight.   

Thus would Pelorus iterate his woe  
And make the pastures echo with his voice,  
For to what cave so ere this swain did go  
He made it answer with an horrid noise,  
For where he was, no creature could rejoice,  
Sith what he did, his cattle would do so,  
Both food and water willing to forego,  
And frame their routing to their masters choice  
A discord well concording with his voice,  
His flocks were thankful to deplore his fall  
Mourning to hear their masters mournful call.   

Many fine bowers this shepherd used to frame  
Of myrtle branches, and of poplar green,  
Wherein he used to endorse his lovers name,  
Whose curious works to this day may be seen,  
Which cannot choose but aeternise his fame  
And that renowned house from whence he came,  
For few such swains on earth have ever been  
Of such respect, such virtue, such esteem:  
But he is gone, and hath deprived the earth  
Of her chief beauty, portrayed in his birth.   

Tymallus was the next, who for his strength  
Antaeus' like, regaind the highest prize  
Amongst all shepherds, but the fates at length  
Seemed to oppose his worthy enterprise,  
Shutting the glorious splendour of his eyes,  
(Themselves contented in our discontents)  
Changing the nature of those elements,  
Which in Tymalius did so sympathize,  
That I have heard, though this same shepherd dies,  
Yet every year the inhabitants receive,  
Where he's interred sweet odours from his grave.   

O thou perfumed urn that dost contain  
Within thy shrine and s●ble monument,  
The famous relics of a noble swain,  
Mansion of honour, virtues continent,  
Shine ever bright to grace that ornament  
Which thou possessest: let no private slain  
Blemish that poor remainder, whos● pure name  
Makes earth, no earth, but as an element  
Drawn from the earth, to raise her excrement,  
Rest thee Tymallus in thy house of clay,  
Whilst we relate thy actions every day.   

But now must I leave these, and come to him,  
Whose sacred muse pierceth the aery clouds,  
And with Berillus excellence begin  
Some higher strain; leaving the silent woods,  
The silent shades, the pastures and the floods▪  
Which cherished the swains: now must I trim  
With varied colours every branch and limb  
Of my discourse: that such as understood  
Of this Berillus, may wish him some good,  
And add some proper actions of their own  
To those of his, and make them better known   

It chanced on a time, the swains agreed  
To celebrate the festivals of Pan,  
Pan was the God, by which their flocks did feed,  
And their increase on Ida first began,  
Therefore each swain with all the speed he can,  
Came with sweet incense from his flowery meed,  
To sacrifice to Pan of all their breed,  
One with a kid, another with a lamb,  
Or some young suckling waned from the dam,  
'mongst whom Berillus came, willing to offer,  
To Pales incense, and to Pan an heifer.   

Unto the Temple which erected was,  
N●●re to the foot of Ida's sacred moun●,  
From whence a Nectar rivulet did pass,  
Which was enstiled Cytheraeas' fount,  
Came all these shepherds, who with great account,  
And solemn honour offered in that place,  
The firstlings of their flocks were wont to graze  
Upon the neighbour plains, or which were wont  
To browse the flowery vale, or feed upon't,  
Each offered what they had, fruits of their border,  
The best the first, the residue in order.   

Amidst these solemn feasts, obsequious vows,  
Came in Eliza, one of beauty rare,  
With other virgins, for what end heaven knows,  
Save to perplex such as religious were:  
Such tempting creatures wanton women are,  
Seducing us with smiles and seeming shows,  
far worse than the fury of external blows:  
For those shed blood, these do torment with care  
And vex us with new sorrows, till despair  
Surprise our minds, our solace dispossess,  
Making us objects of times pensiveness.   

No sooner had he spied (ay me too soon)  
The Siren countenance of this seeming sect,  
Then incense, Censor, coals, & all thrown down,  
fixing his eyes on her, showed his intent,  
Having our heart there where our eyes be bend,  
To such a passion he in fine was grown,  
That he could scarcely vouch himself his own,  
But pitching there his camp, his fort, his tent,  
Confined himself within her element,  
For he transported was (poor harmless man,)  
To Eliza's Altar from the shrine of Pan.   

Shall I adore (quoth he) a rural God,  
A pasture Saint, a sheepish deity,  
When a more heavenly creature makes abode,  
Cheering my comforts in variety,  
Promising pleasures in satiety?  
No, no, her presence far more comforts bided  
Then Pan ere had: too long my feet have stood,  
Too long my knees have bowed (poor Pan) to thee  
I see a Saint that better pleaseth me.  
This said (his incense from his shrine bearest)  
Unto his goddess goes, the Altar left.   

Like to a forward wooer trained long  
In lovers vows, and solemn protestations,  
He takes her by the hand: and softly wrong  
Her tender pulse, augmenting sundry passions  
Of an unfeigned love (heavens invocations)  
Making his heart the subject of his tongue,  
His tongue the Herald of events to come,  
Calling the Gods to record his intentions,  
And all those acry powers whose blessed conventions  
Confirm each action both in heaven and earth,  
The fatal end drawn from a fatal birth.   

If that I love not (honoured queen) quoth he,  
Mirror of beauty, diamond of fame,  
If that I ever have not honoured thee,  
And registered the annals of thy name,  
And with my dearest blood confirmed the same,  
Never respect these tears distilled from me,  
Nor of thy worth let me accepted be.  
But if I have been faithful, think't no shame  
To fix thy love on me that faithful am,  
For sooner shall the sun surcease to shine,  
Then I surcease to reverence thy shrine.   

See in what divine rites, what sacred hests,  
I was distracted, to enjoy your love,  
For sincere love, delays in love detests,  
Enforced the fruits (which he desires) to prove,  
O let me prove them, so shall griefs remove,  
Their pensive stations, and afford sweet rest  
Unto my restless soul, by thee made blest:  
I was brought up (dear sweet) in Ida's grove,  
Hatched in an aery, sprung from bowers above,  
Those ●owrs, those flowers, those showers which did descend  
Fron Ioues pure throne, thy beauty shall defend.   

Those bowers which lovely Adonis did frequent,  
Those flowers to which Narcissus was transformed  
Those liquid showers where Dande reaped content,  
All in one symptom with one wreath adorned,  
To lovers unity sweet strain conformed,  
(For purer strains near had earth's continent,  
Then such as descant lovers compliment)  
Where limpe-halt Vulcan too▪ too long soiornd,  
With loves contempt portrayed, displayed & horned,  
But lovers cannot put abuse, nor wrong  
Those faithful vows which they professed long.   

See but this incense how it lost her smell,  
See but this censor how it lost her fire,  
Which intimates, naught can express so well  
The fervent passions of our minds desire,  
As beautie● presence, which doth still aspire,  
To aery mansions from the vault to shell,  
For perfect love all vapours can expel,  
And give the lover due reward, due hire,  
Scorning with coward pace to make retire,  
Love is a captain which obtains the prize,  
Scorning the worst and basest enterprise.   

But like victorious cheiftaines which enclose  
The strongest bulwarks with continued labour,  
Despising rest, minds quiet, night's repose,  
By their renowned acts to purchase favour,  
(Whose resolutions know not how to waver  
Nor the pale harbour of distracted woes,  
Know how to fear) even so affection goes,  
Till memory (of Heroes acts engraver)  
Ennobled by worths monuments shall have her,  
Registering her pure vertures in their shrine,  
For divine acts deserve a throne divine.   

No steepy mount can be too peering high,  
No craggy cliff for love too intricate,  
For such is love and lovers majesty,  
As its secure in every dismal state,  
Passing the judgement of impartial state,  
Nearer the title of a deity,  
Being the same which she doth seem to be,  
Hating the cause of times producing hate,  
Open be her eyes (wide open) early and late,  
Discoursing where or how her comforts be,  
Taking no rest to gain eternity.   

O be not selfe conceited (dearest love)  
See but thy image, how it doth desire  
Another image: aiming ever higher,  
Till it enjoy what it intends to prove,  
Much like the Turtle with the turtle-dove  
Or like the Phoenix, who in her own fire,  
Portraies herself both mother, seed and sire:  
Her ashy urn her tomb, her flame the grove,  
To life infused by some effects above.  
Be then the Phoenix, as in beauty rare,  
So be thy actions far above compare.   

What better suits which beauty then delight?  
What better with delight than loves content?  
What better with content then cheerful light?  
What better suits with light than th'element,  
That best concord's with her? what's that? th'extent  
Of pure affection: which expels the night,  
And makes us pleasant in our lovers sight,  
For honest lovers show their minds intent,  
By outward signs; an Incense redolent,  
In sincere love, composed of sundry links,  
Thinks what she speaks, and speaketh what she thinks.   

Then speak (dear love) let this same sacred place,  
Where we be present, consecreate our love:  
Let Pan himself confirm our Nuptial grace,  
And all the powerful choristers above  
Sing cheerful lays: while our affections move  
Their true Ideas: that illustrate race,  
From whence you were derived, quickens my chase  
And bids me hope: you cannot choose but love,  
Their worth cannot be base whose births above,  
Then as thou art erected, let me taste,  
The fruits of love, when discontents be past.   

For if a faithful shepherd can deserve,  
Meede for his faith: my faith deserves as much.  
How oft have I thy name desired to carve  
In every tree? and when I sought to touch  
The tender bark, or rind, it near thought much,  
But willingly endured my sculpture: thus plants serve  
Thy blessed attendance: that they may observe,  
A module in thy fancy: that is such,  
That if they should do all, yet not too much  
can be done to thy shrine: if plants do this,  
(If I should not do more) I did amiss.   

Since time I knew thee (fairest of all fairs,)  
I could not go, as I was wont to do  
Unto my pastures: for such heaps of cares  
Possessed my crazy brains, surprised so  
With thy affections, that whereso ere I go,  
Sat, or lie down, naught of sweet joy appears,  
But multitudes of my renewing fears,  
Which make me sleeping wake, thinking of woe,  
And then of joy: thus interposed twixt two,  
A double form my single form partakes,  
Now waking sleeps, & sleeping strait awakes.   

For that sweet sleep which comfort yields to others,  
Yields a distaft to me: what can be sweet  
Where hope is dead? hope is a loving mother,  
Banishing sorrow with a silent sleep,  
That feeds the shepherd, and revives his sheep,  
Reducing them into one fold together,  
But sheep nor shepherd there's no health to either,  
If thou my shephardesse refuse to gather  
My dispersed Flocks: and shall deny to keep  
My watching eyes that do desire to sleep,  
But cannot sleep, to double pains they are put,  
Open by thy presence, by thy absence shut.   

No day nor night can solace yield to me,  
Both be unwelcome guests: and what's the cause?  
To tell the truth: that day I see not thee  
Seems far more dark than night: love hath no clause,  
No limit, nor no bond: love cannot be  
Confined in bonds, it hates captivity:  
Meriting honour by divinest laws,  
As for her action it deserves applause,  
O then (dear sweet) be not so soft to show,  
So hard to love: receive these vows I owe.   

Oft have I walked within the Idalian grove,  
Calling each plant, each blossom to record  
The spotless vows of my refined love:  
And every plant did seemingly accord  
Unto my vows: springs did their tears afford,  
And every senseless rock did passions move:  
Crying I love, the echo cried I love,  
For every accent, accented my word,  
A lovely concord in a loves discord.  
If plants, rocks, rivers so remorseful be,  
far more remorse I do expect from thee.   

Thy substance is more heavenly, than disdain  
Should soil a mansion of so pure delight:  
Thou seest me love, and thou wilt love again:  
I know thou wilt, those vows which I have plight  
Cannot but have respect in lovers sight:  
Which if thou do, (believe me) i'll remain  
As I have been a poor well willing swain,  
And with my pipe on every winter night  
Play lays of love, to further thy delight.  
Believe me sweet, and you may think it true,  
My Flocks unfollowed are to follow you.   

The wanton lambkins frolic on the plain,  
Skipping and leaping in their flower of youth,  
While in a secret cave, I scarce contain  
Myself from tears, and so Melampus doth,  
Poor harmless cur, for he is very loath  
To see me so dejected: howling amain,  
Prick-eared, blear eyed, yields me a doleful strain▪  
Of doggerel music: thus perplexed both.  
Repined to see each creature in their growth,  
And we dismayed, with woes immured so,  
As others joys seem to augment our woe.   

Last day but one Amicla came to me,  
And asked the reason why I was so sad:  
Thou used, quoth she, so full of mirth to be,  
That with thy pipe thou made the pastures glad,  
And was accounted still the cheerefulst lad  
In all our plain: how comes it then quoth she,  
Such sullen suds have so perplexed thee?  
Come, come away and leave this pensive shade,  
For piping, not for pining thou was made,  
Come, come I say, and quickly follow me.  
And o'er this down lets dance it nimbly.   

Alas Amicla, thus I answered her,  
How can I pipe, my read is out of tune,  
How can I dance, that can but hardly stir  
My crazy joints: O no, that time is done,  
Nor wilt hereafter (much I doubt it) come  
To joy my doleful life, or ere appear,  
To end my griefs that echo every where,  
For griefs speak loudest when the speech is dumb  
Engrossing daily still a greater sum.  
Leave me Amicla, how can I recite,  
My wont measures that has broke my pipe▪   

Broken thy pipe? I'll mend it (sweet) quoth she,  
And make it tune with more delightful measure  
Then ere it did: lend but thy pipe to me:  
I lent it her, that I in part might please her,  
But it played tunelesse still: nor could it ease her,  
Descanting discords: sadder harmony  
Near did I hear of sage Melpomene:  
It knew his masters strain, not all the treasure  
Of Tagus' golden oar, no time, no leisure,  
Had either I or my poor pipe to play,  
For thoughts of love had ta'en all joys away.   

Amicla when she saw it would not be,  
Threw down my pipe, for it was soon thowne down,  
And with quick pace away departed she,  
While I despised, of myself lay down  
Under a shady beech well over grown,  
With broad▪ spread branches which did shadow me,  
But not obscure the love I bore to thee;  
Calling the heavens to witness, and mine own,  
Mine own poor bleting flocks! my love was shown thee.  
Not in assemblance, but so really,  
That naught seemed sweet which did not taste of   

Thy breath a perfume, and thy voice a tone,  
Of perfect concord's: thy bright eye a star,  
Thy mouth an Hyblemount, thine arms a throne,  
Thy teeth a pearly cordon, thy pure hair  
Trammels of purest gold, where lodged are  
Those three admired graces, all in one,  
As if they meant there to reside alone:  
Thy brows like Beacons, where we see afar  
Adjoining places, mannagements of war,  
Briefly, no part thou hast from top to toe,  
But may be asked why nature made it so?   

And strait it answers: Nature made me thus,  
To be a mirror past all imitation,  
Sith choicest colours my proportion chufe,  
A beauteous frame formed of the best creation,  
That after times might make more full relation,  
What they have seen proportioned in us  
And leave records of it: that every muse,  
If pregnant, may discourse to every Nation,  
A perfect module made for recreation,  
But for no human creature; such as love us,  
Must come from heaven, & plant their throne above us   

O tell me then (dear love) if so it be,  
Human affections cannot worthy seem,  
By their intentive minds to honour thee,  
And therefore justly have condemned been,  
To gaze out that which should be rarely seen,  
For such as thou art, oft reserved be,  
Not for Earth's frame, but for eternity:  
Tell me but this (and by this kiss) I mean  
Near to repair unto thy shrine again,  
Or ere make suit (as here I do profess)  
To be thy shepherd, thou my shepherdess.   

When poor Berillus finished had his suit,  
Looking for answer at Eliza's hand,  
Pan's Priest came in, and put Berillus out,  
Only thus much well might he understand,  
That he was loved of her, but th'Priests command  
(Ill f●ll such shavelings) ever went about,  
Hearing their amorous stories to root out  
Their pure affections: moving with his wand,  
Or sacra virga, that they should descend,  
And leave ●o●es passions to another place,  
For in Pan's Temple love can have no grace.   

The forlorn Shepherd went same way he came,  
Sad and dejected, yet with hope relieved,  
Thinking by absence to quench out the flame,  
Which daily made increase: being deprived  
Of those blessed means, by which we are revived,  
Hope the best Anchor which supports our flame,  
Made this poor shepherd to pursue his game,  
Hoping by such effects as he contrived,  
To have his joys renewed: but was deceived,  
For where he thought to find contentment most  
In that same place he was the greatliest crossed.   

For from that time near could he see his dear,  
Kept as it seemed for Pan, or for his Priest,  
For this same shaveling ever would be there,  
Desiring (lustful prelate) there to feast,  
Where she remained: for he has oft confessed,  
That he has wished himself transformed were  
Into some slender creature, to appear  
At all times to Eliza: who thought least  
Of such a wanton votary: heavens detest,  
Such vow in fringing mass priests whose profession  
Collects a reason out of each suspicion.   

Farewell Eliza, if thou live so long,  
As to repent thee of thy breach of faith,  
I do not doubt but thou'lt confess the wrong  
Which thou hast done me, and abjure that breath,  
Which thou exhaled, adjudging me to death,  
By that remorseless heart, that Siren tongue,  
Which (if thou liv'st) will sing another song:  
Take heed, the sword's drawn from the ireful sheath,  
And inbred horror creepeth underneath.  
Whom thou affectest most, affects thee least,  
Hating thy Swain to take thee to thy Priest.   

But if god Pan knew how his swains were used,  
By such as offer to him sacrifice,  
I know full well he would redress th'abuse,  
And save our honour from such Priests as these,  
Who fill his Temple with impieties,  
Wronging the sincere thoughts of each of us,  
Which cannot merit in the heavens excuse:  
Small faults with Saints be great enormities,  
Shrines that are pure become pure deities,  
But i'll surcease, griefs make my muse surcease:  
Increase of lines give to my woes increase.    

To Eliza. A sonnet.  

IF fair Eliza thou that I have loved,  
And vowed more sacred hests unto thy shrine  
Then any love that ere professed him thine,  
Have but my poems by thyself approved,  
O to what blessed, unexpected clime  
Am I transported by this muse of mine?  
But if thou frown, contract thy brow and louvre,  
I'll never handle this rude pencil more.   

I have not Zeuxes hand to paint thy shape,  
But I could wish to grave within thy mound  
Some acquaint devise, where if I once were found,  
I know no feature of his lively grape  
Could me exceed: for I have learned the ground  
Of that deep art, albeit most profound.  
Be thou the module of that curious frame,  
That my impression may adorn the same.   

Adorn? deform thou sayest: poor poesy,  
Cannot content Eliza's Nuptials,  
she's of a lighter strain, her festivals  
Sound and resound with purer harmony:  
She cannot brook the sullen Saturnals  
That mix our inyes with gladness: Iwenals,  
Best like Eliza: and they would like me,  
If I were Iwenall to sing to thee.   
Thy affectionate swain Pan's poorest herdsman.   

In Arui pascua distichon.  
Pastor eram gelidis discumbeus montibus Arui,  
In me tanguet amor mont is, amore tui.   

To Dorinda. Elegy. 1.  

THe soaring Eagle stooping to allure,  
Too base a lure (god wot) for such a bird,  
Was soon deprived of that he thought most sure,  
At which strange hap the Eagle much admired,  
To be debarred of that he lest desired,  
Wherefore oppressed with fury there he swore,  
Descend he would to such base lures no more.   

Art thou not borne (quoth he) of royal race,  
Hatching thy airy in the wilderness?  
And wilt thou then that ancient house disgrace,  
Soiling thy glory with such filthiness,  
Which would eclipse thy pristine worthiness?  
O fie for shame let such unworthies be,  
Whose worthless parts will shame thine house and thee.   

Thy Father was a Prince, thou art his son,  
For with thy piercing eyes canst thou behold  
The glorious lustre of the cheerful sun,  
Fruitful as spring-time, not to bondage sold,  
Building thy nest in climates far from cold,  
Fly to the Cedar; let this mushroom be,  
For higher plants will better nourish thee.   

Those sparkling eyes of thine which shine so bright,  
Clad with the flames of Phoebus' regiment,  
Cannot immantled be in pitchy night,  
But aim at some more gracious element,  
Sun seldom shines on such base excrement,  
Then as thou soared by nature, so let art  
In thine aspiring thoughts sustain a part.   

Nomine pastor is m●llita poemata fundit  
Aquila— ut infra sequitur.   

What pleasant poems have come from my bill,  
Whose sweet resounding made the eccoes ring,  
In fields and shades where silver streams distill,  
Where Philomel herself was wont to sing,  
Down by the current of Sabinas' spring,  
Shall then my breast which tuned so pleasantly,  
Be matched with such a tunelesse Harmony?    

In poesem Encomion.  

Should Hybles sacred art of poesy,  
Leese her horizon in the throne of heaven,  
Since it hath been professed by deity,  
Unto the muses in Parnassus given,  
A place frequented on each satires even,  
Where satires danced & Syluanos' in their order,  
With all the rites that Hymen could afford her.   

Then thou thrice blest profession, which remains  
A solace to the mind, the earth's content,  
That doubles our night tasks with ●reble gains,  
Affording use of lovers compliment,  
The lodestar which directs our regiment,  
Neither shall pleasure profit or delight,  
Deprive me the fruition of thy sight.    

To Dorinda.  

The bird Erodius for her lovely brood,  
Sends out a shower of tears perpetually,  
And she by nature's prescript is allowed  
To mourn for her dejected progeny,  
Parents with children make one sympathy.  
Why should not I do this for her and more,  
Whose hallowed shrine my thoughts did ere adore?   

Thou fairest Queen that sits on Ida's mount,  
Vouchsafe to take this poaem I present,  
And this my muse shall be devoted still,  
Unto thine heavenly statue which was sent  
From Io●e above unto this continent,  
Protect my silly labour and receive  
Unto thy cell, this little that I have.   

Alas what fortune crossed my birth day first,  
When fates themselves denied me better means,  
To gratify my love? whose quenchless thirst,  
In midst of streams, for liquid streams complains,  
That her poor travail can produce no gains,  
Unto thy divine Altar; which shall smell,  
With myrrh & hymns the Nymphs themselves shall tell.    

Amor ut odor.  
— redolentia semina mittit-quisquis amat.  

Bring me some odours for my lovely queen,  
And fragrant posies for my shepherdess:  
A fairer spring-time never shall be seen  
For worth becomes Dorinda's worthiness,  
Pipe will I still for I can do no less,  
And when my pipe is broken I will take  
A shriller pipe for my Dorinda's sake.  
Pastor pasce boves, mea fistula cantet amores, etc.   

Take out that reed, it doth not please my love,  
It is too slow a strain for her swift course,  
She loves not that which will not quickly move,  
And cut the air like to a foaming horse,  
That runs his station with a vehement course,  
Such steeds would well beseem my lady queen  
That runs her courser with an easy rain.   

Sic mea laxatis currit habenis  
Hyppodame equis: quorum spumantia frevis  
colla torquet.  
— et tu tibi Myrtile fatae  
digna refers.— ibid.    

To Dorinda. Elegy. 2.  

Disdainful girl that hates thy lover most,  
Playing the tyrant with thy beauteous face,  
Seeming as won, when thou art nearest lost,  
Clouding thy beauty with a foul disgrace,  
Since black disdain enjoys the chiefest place,  
Conceive remorse, lest thou remorseless die  
Thine acts the authors of thy misery.   

How many times and oft have I profesd  
Unto thy beauty ceremonial love?  
What vows, what hests have been by me expressed  
far more than Adonis in Idalias' grove,  
More than the solemn hests of Turtle dove?  
The very Pelican is not more true  
Unto her brood, than I would be to you.   

Yet thou contemns my love, and in despite  
Of me and of my love, fleeres in my face:  
O will not heaven this cruelty requite,  
And dispossess thee of an Angel's place?  
Graced with more beauty then with beauty's grace,  
Expect revenge for heavens revenged will be  
Of such vow-breaking miscreants as thee.   

Wast not enough to scorn me for my want,  
But thou must cherish me with feigned love;  
And then triumph, and o'er my ruins taunt?  
In constant minion that dost change and move  
The ball of thy affection, to approve,  
Some golden Ass perchance that will admire  
Not half so much thyself, as thy attire.   

Some golden calf of Horeb will appear,  
First of his house: decended from a bag  
Of rusty gold, and he will call thee dear  
Respective Lady: then his head he'll wag,  
And swear by ●●●c●ow pin of his summer-●●ng  
He loves thee dearly, thou must be his bride,  
Since store of angels guard him on each side.   

Thou must have waxen tapers wrought in gold,  
Thy beads of purest Amber earth can yield,  
Thou must not tread upon polluted mould,  
Nor walk abroad into the open field,  
Without thine ostrich tail to be thy shield,  
Thy drink must Nectar be, and thou must eat  
Such meat, as for thy divine powers is meet.   

Thy rustic groom that talks of salving sheep,  
Of wether-gals, and of the next years dearth,  
Will thee Dorinda like a Lady keep,  
And feed thee with the dainties of the earth,  
Replenished with pastures yielding mirth:  
For every shepherd with his shepherd's crook,  
Will strive who may most on thy beauty look   

here will be Mopsus with his waineskot face,  
There Damon with his trull will thee attend,  
Then will old Acmon come with weary pace,  
And Melibeus he's thy husband's friend,  
Leaning upon his staff, will homeward send  
For some mean gift, some cheese cake to divide  
Amongst the bridemaids & their courtly bride.   

Among the rest thy Vulcan will be there,  
Smeered with seacole, comely ●or his colour,  
And will begin to tie thy glittering ●aire  
In tresses of pure gold: which are made fouler  
By his irreverend hands: where some controller  
Will curb his boldness: am I bold (quoth he)  
To touch those hairs that do belong to me?   

No minion, no, you must not now partake  
The gaudy fashions of a giddy brain,  
But you must leave them for your husband's sake,  
And use those tender parts to rural pain,  
To yield unto your spouse a double gain,  
For rest assured Dorinda there be some,  
Do marry you for after hopes to come.   

And be resolved though such protest they love,  
Calling the heavens to record: they will be  
Such as perfidious Tereus: and will prove  
The very ruin of your progeny,  
And bring your state in time to misery:  
Then will you wish (but wishes come too late)  
You had but wist the end of your estate.   

But why Dorinda should I mention thee?  
Why should I name Dorinda, that's untrue,  
A faith infringer, who affected me  
And then forsook me; how should I renew,  
the sad memorial which I had of you?  
But with a pensive heart, a sigh, a groan,  
To intimate how I am left alone.   

Come all ye wood-gods and adorn my brow,  
With a poor willow garland, to express  
The lively colours of a tragic show,  
The true proportion of my pensiveness,  
Remote from comfort, fraughted with heaviness,  
Where we will sing, though singing be unfit,  
And every wood-nimph shall shed tears to it.   

Come to my cell, and we will go together,  
Unto Dorinda's Nuptials, where will be  
Great store of rural swains comed flocking thither  
A perfect relish of sweet harmony:  
Where we may well Dorinda's beauty see:  
And see her dance lavalto in that measure,  
As needs must yield to all contented pleasure.   

And I have Friends there that will help to place  
Us, in a room contented, to survey,  
The polishd colours of her curious face,  
Which though they do my pensive woes renew  
Yet am I blest in that transparent show  
Of glory and renown, which joined together  
Enforce all shepherds to come flocking thither.   

Thus will we talk and prattle of her beauty,  
With Epithets well fitting her deserts,  
And I will tender to her shrine my duty,  
With offer of my love and of my heart,  
Of which she doth possess the chiefest part:  
That she would deign for to accept that prize,  
We consecreate to her transpercing eyes.    

In laudem Dorindae: per Antiphrasen.  

She is the mirror and the type of fame,  
If that a blemish did not daze her light,  
But that one blot doth much impair the same,  
And hath obscured the splendour of her sight:  
The scope she aims at is not aimed aright,  
If that one soil did not eclipse the rest,  
She might be well reputed, worlds best.   

— Te Roma aligine caecam  
efficit insequitur fugientem Roma Dorindam.  
vid. Mant & Luc. in Fragment.   

O what content have I conceived in thee  
My sweet Dorinda? what a sugared smile,  
A lip of comfort relished pleasantly,  
An eye that would the prudent'st thoughts beguile?  
O with what character, or in what style  
Shall I describe thy feature glorious Saint,  
Made of the most refined element?   

Then judge what wound it was surprised mine heart.  
When thou proscribd me from thy cheerful court,  
And with contracted brow bade me depart,  
From that repose where comforts make resort:  
The birds themselves that heard can make report:  
For many time since I took leave of thee,  
The birds themselves sung dirges over me.   

Recall to mind the time, the place, the words,  
For I have cause for to remember them,  
And then conceive what sorrow they afford,  
What cause I have for to surrender them  
Into thy hands, that first did tender them,  
O be not so hardhearted, well I wot,  
Thou canst not answer that thou knowest them not.   

O that so weak defective elements,  
Vessels of frailty should insult o'er strength,  
That gold should be priest down by excrements,  
Or woman's power extended to that length,  
That men (as clergy men) have but the tenth  
Of their affections in you, and receive  
Less comfort in your bed, then in your grave.   

O what unhappy planet did attend,  
The first arrival of mine hapless foot,  
Or what discomforts did the furies send  
To make me run a course so far about,  
With no more thanks then if I ran it not?  
O fruitless labour, for what labour lighter  
Then wash the Aethiop that is near made whiter?   

Much have I read of beauty, more of guile,  
Which like a snake lies in the tender grass,  
The bane whereof her glory doth defile,  
And lies interred, as that, which never was,  
Or like a gliding stream whose course doth pass,  
And passing, cuts both hill and flowery plain,  
Scorning by nature to return again.   

But thou condemn'st me for some careless words,  
In that I was respectless of thy love:  
O do not forge unkindness, that affords  
More sorrow to my heart, than heavens above,  
Or fatal Eris in her Stygian grove,  
What I have spoke I pray thee speak no more,  
And I'll re●●nt what I have said before.   

Enjoin me penance, I will undertake,  
Alcides labours to obtain your love,  
Climbing the Alps for my beloved sake,  
So you distrust from your hard▪ heart remove,  
And of my faith inviolate approve:  
For be assured I near my love did show  
To your estate, but love I bore to you,   

But why run I astray so far remote  
From that celestial scope I aimed at:  
I love my love, and yet she knoweth not,  
Or will not know my minds perplexed estate,  
Those great distractions I conceived of late,  
She will not love, she cannot like a swain,  
Who once repulsed can make no suit again,   

Well then surcease, and let this doleful Ode  
Abridge the web of thy extracted grief,  
Take up thy shepherds crook, make no abode,  
This barren pasture yields thee no relief,  
But rivulets of tears whereof its chief:  
Then bid farewell to this disaster grove,  
To Cupid's arrows, and the queen of love.   

Lumine qui semper proditur ipse suo.   

Yet when I talk of Cupid and his bow.  
The queen of love that from mount Ida came,  
Some more affecting passions I must show,  
And paraphrase upon Dorinda's name:  
Where though I blush, for I am full of shame,  
Yet in my blush, I seem to represent,  
The beauty of my loves fair continent.   

And when I look me in the dismal glass,  
Where face redarts a face, me thinks I see,  
The splendour of Dorinda's comely face,  
Where with her smile she doth encounter me,  
And drives my senses to that ecstasy:  
That I in Lethe drowned, as all forgotten,  
Le's the glass fall, and so my glass is broken.   

Then am I eased, deprived of that I loved,  
Oppressed with sleep yet cannot sleep at all,  
Till the remainders of my glass removed,  
Which were dispersed by their untimely fall.  
For they (an echo like) do seem to call  
And rouse me from my rest, surprised which care,  
And rest of rest, declining to despair.   

It may be (my Dorinda) if you wed,  
Some splay-footed Vulcan you must make recourse,  
Too too unwilling, to a loathed bed,  
Whereas distasteful pleasure hath no force.  
But mixed with sorrow and with deep remore:  
Hear me (Dorinda) these few hymns shall tell  
That though you loathe me, yet I wish you well.   

Dive to the very bottom of your heart,  
And see the idiom of your lover there,  
An indigested lump composed of art,  
Where natures gifts did never yet appear,  
Where folly first her banner seemed to rear,  
An harsh distempered humour shown in him,  
A Brillus wit, and a Thersytes limb.   

But he's religious: he can dirges say,  
And has our lady's psalter all by heart:  
He is modest, rich, and will each morning pray,  
As if he had his prayers composed by art,  
What you sustain he ever bears a part:  
Nay more, to purchase your respective favour,  
he'll take himself to any cotqueans labour.   

Indeed Alcides for his Omphale,  
Past many perils much degenerate  
From former glory, pristine dignity,  
Which ever made attendance on his state,  
Too much obscured by infamy of hate,  
For he to win a queen did then begin,  
To tease his wool, to carded and eke to spin,   

— Et qui reges vicit, grandes labores egit.  
victus amore cecidit:  
Qui clawm, lanam exercet: ibid.  
Nec novit mentem comprimere,  
qui tanta fecit. vid Senec.   

Each morn would he his task imposed have,  
Which in a woman's habit he performed,  
And all to purchase her whom he did crave,  
With curious robes & precious gems adorned,  
With whom in this disguise he long soiorned,  
Till his long absence had his ruin wrought,  
By Nessus' blood, long time by Nessus sought.   

— Nessus' hos struxit dolos:  
cruore tincta est pallia semiferi (pater)  
Nessusque nunc has exigit paenas sibi.  
— Et Oetaeum Nemus  
suscipiat, ignis, Herculem accipiat rogus.  
Senec: in Oetae: Hercul.   

Believe me (fair Dorinda) if that love  
Consist in orisons, I must confess,  
Reason you have your fancy to remove,  
Since heavens forgive, frequent I nothing less,  
Nor can I love by solemn prayers express.  
Hymns, pastorals, and pleasant lays beseem,  
Rather than orisons so fair a Queen.   

If Hero had Leander's form affected,  
For rites or ceremonies consecrate  
Unto the powers above: she had respected  
The Temple more to juno dedicate,  
And had distempered lust in greater hate,  
But she devoted was unto his shrine,  
For carnal pleasures, not for hests divine.   

What comfort can a beauteous maid conceive  
In contemplation, since the practic part  
Better accords with her, and she doth crave  
A sovereign salve to cure her wounded heart,  
Which cannot be performed by men of art,  
For learned Sophisters may reason well,  
But what will please your sex they cannot tell.   

Thus therefore praise I, and yet discommend,  
This harsh, yet sober kind of speculation,  
That frames her engine to a fruitless end,  
About heavens motion and Spheres elevation,  
Yet cannot make her use of recreation:  
Wherhfore it's fruitless, and a barren seed  
That loves to grow alone, and hates to breed.   

renowned lady, lest I wrong your ears  
With the distasteful temper of my pen,  
My muse herself from further course forbears,  
To shadow out your virtues to such men,  
As live obscured in oblivions den.  
This therefore I have writ to blaze your name,  
And not through hate for to eclipse the same.   

Sooner shall Phoebus' leave his ivory car,  
And give his regiment to Phaeton:  
Sooner shall Mars that powerful god of war  
Retire in peace, and love to lie alone:  
Sooner shall Sisyphus to roll his stone  
Surcease, than I surcease to empall your days  
With poets wreaths, the laurel and the bay.    

To Dorinda, successive Nuptials.  
Et quis me retulit laurea dignum,  
Qui nequeo digna laud Dorindam  
evehere ad astra? etc. in eleg. lib. 3.  

Purest Nymph that Hyble bred,  
With Ambrosia nourished,  
Beauty's glory, nature's mirror,  
heavens blessed Trophy, worlds terror,  
Nature made thee and thy feature  
As it seems to put down nature,  
Most admitted, when most dejected,  
Humble most, when most erected.   

Lady Flora with her beauty,  
Tenders thee her vigin duty:  
Hymen too, doth chaplets carry  
To adorn him thou dost marry:  
Gods of all sorts have descended,  
And their bounties have extended,  
Some with roses mixed full sweetly,  
Some with spikenard came to greet thee.   

Near was marriage day so graced,  
Since by Hymen all are placed,  
As sweet flowers set in a border,  
Gods and goddesses in order,  
There sits jove with juno Queen,  
Here Diana clad in green,  
Here god Mars that hero stour,  
Here crabbed▪ Vulcan's limping foot.   

Here sat Venus' smouth as down  
In a purple velvet gown:  
There Minerva whose deserving  
Had a laurel for her learning:  
Here above their heads did fly,  
With winged speed God Mercury:  
Aeolus at last did come,  
But for wind there was no room.   

Neptune from his liquid cell,  
Bade the seas and storms farewell:  
Nereus no more would swim  
In his streams, but followed him▪  
Thus all meeting, joy appeared,  
Well with wine their hearts were cheered,  
Till their wine to sleep resolved,  
Made these Nuptials be dissolved.   

Helicons poor inhabitant    

Astraeas' farewell to Dorinda.  

Farewell Dorinda, we must now no more  
Talk of our maiden pleasures we have had,  
Nor sit along upon the silver shore,  
Sighing and puling, calling on that lad,  
That purblind Cupid, that did wound us sore:  
Which made us pensive, so perplexed and sad,  
That we with solemn protestations swore  
To be revenged: that he himself might know,  
Though he could shoot, yet we could break his bow▪   

How oft and many times have we two walked  
In that same flowery Mede, which doth adjoin  
Thy father's house, and have securely talked?  
Where having naught to do, we used to proine  
The poppy branches, which did then exalt,  
Their tops too high: where we would strait combine  
Those blossoms we had cropped laying together,  
Our heaps in one which had been lopped by either.   

But now that vernant spring is past and gone,  
A●d dismal winter with his hoary brow  
Sits on my cheek, that thus am left alone:  
That Stem shows withered leaves, that ●rst did show,  
Fruits that deserved to be looked upon,  
Which barrenness was first procured by you,  
But i'll not blame you: you have lost your mate,  
But you have changed for a better state.   

Have me commended unto Hymen's bower,  
Tell him I wish he would come visit me,  
And if I do resist his sacred power  
Let me of after joys excluded be:  
Too long I fear I keep a mellow flower,  
Which once thou hadst, but now is gone from thee,  
Believe me sweet Dorinda, I divine,  
E'er many days my state must answer thine.   

Which if it do, our former thoughts of love,  
So well repressed in so equal bounds,  
We once shall make repair unto that grove  
Where pensive passions first received their grounds,  
And make a fool of that same Ape of love  
By whom we once endured many wounds:  
But now preserved, redeemed, enjoying either,  
Admire our equal states, envied of neither.    

To Eliza, a pastoral Hymn.  
— Et ortum referre juuat:  
Inclitae domus alta trophaea petit▪  
Non minus genere preripiens decus,  
quam forma nitida laudes dispergens suas. ibid.  

Mounseur de Tigers, man of great estate,  
Had but one daughter, whom he did esteem:  
Whose front confronting beauty, Vesus sat,  
And all those graces which we gracious deem,  
Than which a rarer sight was never seen,  
Since beauty lost her beauty and decayed  
●n Ida's mount: as I have heard it said.   

Her hair like Ph●ebus rays disparcling gold,  
Sent such a lustre where she passed by,  
That some have thought as I have heard it told,  
Fair Cytheraeas' train approached nigh:  
Such was the virtue of her piercing ●ie,  
And some that dwelled near to Elysa say,  
The nights she walked on seemed as light as day.   

Many poor swains would nosegays sweet compose  
Of eglantine, the daisy, and the dill,  
Which they did consecrate: and she would choose  
Some flower among the rest which she kept still  
In her ambrosian bosom, where an hill  
Of sweeter flowers and branches seemed to be,  
Then any mount or grove in Hesperie.   

Yet of this beauty nature had bestowed,  
She was not proud, but of that humble strain,  
As by her modest blush more fair she showed,  
Then to be courted by a country swain,  
Of far more worth than pastures could contain:  
For she was fair, so fair and full of favour,  
As Pan the shephard-god made suit to have her.   

But Pan's tanned skin paved not with her smooth down▪  
She better seemed to be Apollo's Queen,  
The seeds of virtue were so fully grown  
Virtue herself might take her for her theme:  
Derived sure from some celestial stream:  
For such a stream distreamd from her pure mind  
Of gracious gifts, that like it's hard to find.   

This beauty's mirror graced with such a feature,  
Had a more lustre, than that country swain,  
Or any rural bog or homebred creature,  
Could hope by their deserts ere to attain,  
Such precious jewels must be got by pain,  
Where every tripping Satire can supply  
A decent measure in loves symmetry.   

This gracious Queen framed for a higher court,  
Was by a poet suited: but his pen  
Seemed too too rude for her, whose spread report  
Had driven an admiration in all men,  
And sacred wood-gods that survived then,  
Wherhfore (as coy) this poet she did scorn,  
And eke the wreath which did his head adorn.   

Shall I (quoth she) a rhymer entertain,  
A comic jester to my Nuptial bed,  
The harsh-discordant tunes of every swain,  
To be with ends of poems nourished,  
Or with a vain fantastic humour fed?  
O no, I cannot brook the laurel wreath,  
Or marry such as love to sell their breath.   

I am not borne of that dejected stem,  
Nor have I my beginning from that root,  
That I should match myself with worthless men,  
Or in a bed of poems set my foot,  
Where love environed is with fear and doubt,  
Prophets and poets they can write and sing,  
But women they affect another thing.   

It is not lays sung in Diana's grove,  
Nor of Astraeas' beauty can procure,  
The height of our affection or our love:  
No● can our sweet respect with them endure,  
Who live as if they were of love secure.  
Maids are not pleased with fruitless contemplation  
But leaves the knowledge, loves their recreation.   

Th●s my position is, nor will I yield  
Unto the ●ickle judgement of the vain,  
Who seek to win me, yet must lose the field:  
That labour's lost which doth produce no gain:  
Near can I love a poets wanton strain,  
For this I find, they that of love write best,  
In actions of true love can do the least.   

Mounseur de Tigers hearing what she said,  
W●s well content, for he no poet loved:  
And therefore (as it seemed full of delayed  
Th'effecting of their loves at first approved,  
Which by some accident at last removed:  
And therefore in all haste took hold of time,  
Belike for to extract his daughter's line.   

This thus resolved (for she was well resolved)  
Mounseur de Tigers did a contract make  
With young Gastylio: who inners involved  
Part for himself, and partly for her sake,  
In weal and woe his mistress state partakes:  
As it was fit, for fitting it should be,  
That man and wife have one community.   

Both did adore one Idol, both repaired  
Unto one Saint▪ set in a gorgeous shrine,  
Which Roman pomp lest it should be impaired,  
Talking of rites, they called them most divine:  
Whose columns framed losing wise did shine  
With burning Tapers on their Altars hung:  
Under the stairs whereof the Flamines sung▪   

And lest I should defraud you of that state  
Which so transparently appeared to all  
In those solemnized rites, I'll explicate,  
How, when, and where, these marriage hests befell:  
Which thus in brief I do intend to tell:  
That you may show in aftertimes to come,  
No rites more solemn than the rites of Rome.    


Si nec amare licet, licuit cantare Poteae:  
Si non authorem diligis, acta legas.  Eliza's marriage day with all Roman celebrity solemnized: with the Muses salutes, and Graces several gifts.  
Sic mea Romano cecinisse camaena cothurno  
Gaudeat, et Veneris pignora chara sisae.  

Elizaes' nuptials so long expected,  
Now were approaching, where in solemn sort  
Each thing was placed, as if th'ethereal court  
Whose diamantine walls the Gods protected  
Had been there present: for all was effected  
With such respect, as same would come far short  
In her relation: yet I mean to show  
Th'Epitome of this great work to you▪   

A curious Table made of citre wood,  
Spread over with tissue, well embroidered,  
With store of dainty cates replenished,  
Where on a row the sacred Muses stood  
Singing a song of Hebe deified,  
Was there drawn forth. Next that there seemed a flood,  
Of fair Sea-nymphs, for Nymphs they seemed to be  
Bathing their milk white skins deliciously.   

They sung a song of Neptune to the shore,  
The shore resounding with a sweet consent:  
The like whereof was seldom heard before,  
That Nymphs, whose glory is most eminent,  
Should deign to grace with their diviner power  
The feasts of mortal men: base continent  
For such blessed feet to walk on: yet they came  
From sea to earth to spread Eliza's name.   

Next those, admired graces took their place,  
Richly enthroned as their worth deserved:  
With ●ies reflected on Eliza's face,  
As if love sick, for so the most observed:  
Wishing (vain wish) she were their fellow grace  
For now she was no fellow: for they served  
In all subjection to her, and would take  
Tasks ill befitting graces for her sake.   

I'll give thee (quoth Thalia) utterance  
A honey dropping tongue which shall dissolve  
The marble hearts of men: sweet eloquence  
Whose powerful virtue shall each doubt resolve  
And match thy beauty with the excellence  
Of divine beauty: what thou shalt revolve  
In thy close breast shall be performed by thee,  
Making thee honoured for a deity.   

I'll give thee (quoth Aglaeia) pure invention  
To pass the spheres with apprehensive wings  
Crowning the issue of thy b●est intention  
With wreaths more glorious than victorious kings  
Or Heroes ere received, quick apprehension  
Shall bless thy memory with the happiest things  
Th'auspicious hand of Fortune can procure:  
For whom the grace's grace, must needs be sure.   

And I will give (said grave Euphrosyne)  
The poise of nature judgement to approve  
Or disaprove as it best liketh thee,  
To judge twixt hate and mind attractive love:  
The sagest brain derives her wit from me,  
Rapt with the infusion of the powers above:  
Thus shalt thou be adorned with grace's feature,  
To make thee heavenly of an earthly creature,   

Thus made a goddess by the sacred powers,  
Whose glorious sceptres sway the ocean,  
And this same massy frame this earth of yours,  
With all the beauty of your little man:  
Wherein at first virtues pure springs began  
With pearly drops of soule-bedewing showers:  
To rinse our Errors: so distained now  
As he that made her, hardly can her know.   

Thus, thus, eternisd (for eternity  
Waits on the Graces) she with modest smile,  
And shamefast blush, framed this short reply  
As sweet as short couched in a comely style;  
Much doth Eliza thank your deity  
That you would deign times minutes to beguile  
In such an homely cell: a cell indeed,  
For such as you that spring from heavenly seed.   

O you divine and glorious Choristers,  
That sing sweet Hymns in heavens high Hierarchy,  
You who are made the angels ministers,  
Filling their hearts with gladsome harmony.  
Of happy tidings blessed messengers,  
Infused by the power of sacred Deity.  
You sweet Organs that are consecrate  
To heavens blessed Nuptials, bless my nuptial state.   

You are the nectar rivers that diffuse  
Their well distreaming currents o'er the earth  
So as no mount nor humble vale can choose  
But to be fruitful. Your thrice glorious birth  
Inspired pure knowledge in the Cadmian M●se,  
Making her fill the earth and Sea with mirth.  
Thrice blessed offspring of so blest a sire  
Whom plants, springs, groves, & all the gods desire.   

If to the sea I turn, lo you are there,  
Moving the Sirens with your warbling voice,  
If to the mountains, likewise you appear,  
Making the rocks re-eccho with your noise:  
If to the fertile plains, I likewise hear  
You pretty music in the shepherds voice.  
Thus Sea, rock, mountain, and each flowery plain  
If you begin will answer you again.   

I● Philomela with her woeful note  
Weaving a pricking bramble to her breast,  
Retire in secret to deplore her lot,  
Crying on Progue whom she loved best  
With trickling tears, not having yet forgot  
Who gave revenge to that incestuous beast,  
Adulterate Tereus: if that you come by  
Will leave sad odes and chirp more cheerfully▪   

And reason good your heavenly influence  
Gives a sweet touch unto th' Amyclean light,  
Makes her stay rivers by her eminence,  
Divert the nature of aspiring fi●e,  
Move shady woods to change their residence,  
Mountains declining, vales ascending higher.  
Showing far more than mortal powers could show  
Drawing beginning and their end from you.   

Then gracious Graces, shower such streams of grace  
Upon th'ensuing progress of my time,  
That by the glorious lustre of your face  
Such rays of virtue and respect may shine  
I● me, my issue, and succeeding race,  
That all may bless this happy state of mine.  
Who to advance the honour of our house  
Brought from one stem so many virtuous.   

It is not eloquence, Eliza craves,  
That smells of gain, and gain is stale to shame,  
Such mellow gifts the better sort depraves,  
Losing for corrupt breath a glorious name:  
Fie on attractive breaths that still receive  
Yet by receiving do augment their shame:  
No, no, let virtue make me eloquent,  
Unstained virtue is most eminent.   

Nor ist in●ention doth Eliza please,  
I l●aue Archia that: our thoughts be pure,  
To make our Fame renowned, when the least  
Of our expired lives shall lose their power,  
Getting that statue, after our decease  
Which all devouring time can near devour,  
The glorious name of virtue, which fair tomb  
Shall mention us in after times to come.   

Ye graces three, how well would this white stole,  
This precious Albe adorn Eliza's shrine?  
Which no detraction nor reproach could soil,  
But made eternal by the powers divine,  
An happy end of times laborious toil,  
A blessed period to these days of mine:  
When for exchange of times mortality  
Heavens were my due and heavens eternity.   

Nor do I care for judgement, so I have  
So much as may discern twixt carths' delight  
And those high joys which ripest judgement crave  
Twixt Titan's torch, and Thetis pitchy night:  
So much as may my name from darkness save,  
To make her heir of that supernal light  
Which the judicious wish: that judgements best  
Where she directs her scope at sacred rest.   

O (quoth Aglaia) nuptials ill befit  
Such virtuous spirit●: we must have you dance,  
And leave discourse of virtue, which will get  
Pensive distractions, though you talk perchance  
Of virtue now, yet you'll relinquish it:  
Hymen who doth your fortunes thus advance,  
Will seem much grieved, if you should seem to be  
virtues defender in this jubilee.   

What colours best befit a marriage day?  
Not sable, ●hat pertends too black event:  
But brighter colours such as flowery May  
Used to put on when Boreas seasons spent  
And all the fields put on their rich array,  
Each odorous flower and blossom redolent.  
When the green mantle of the chequered earth  
Seems to review her fresh and cheerful birth.   

Such should thy vestments be (fairespotlesse queen)  
And as the birds which prattle on each spray,  
Telling their tales unto the meadows green  
Their loves, their like by the break of day,  
Discoursing naught which might unpleasant seem  
But as true makes impatient of delay:  
They wish (poor birds) each moment to approve  
The happy fruits of their conceived love.   

Now by the flowery pastures they send out  
Their warbling voices: where their lovely mates  
With broad extended wing in hot pursuit  
For their admired loves together wait,  
Till by long search at last they find them out  
Where they begin to enjoy that happy state,  
Happy to them (good birds) which long before  
They did expect, but now expect no more.   

Thus, thus, Eliza, shouldst thou solemnize  
This glad arrival of thy nuptial state,  
Since powers divine become to eternize  
With happy presence thy succeeding fate  
That all the glorious powers may memorise,  
These festive triumphs they have seen of late.  
Come, come, forbear, put on Eliza's brow,  
Ask but the Muses, they will tell thee how.   

Even as we see when clouds are quite dispersed,  
And glitri●g beams send out their splendour bright  
Or as when storms be past, whose fragor pierced  
The tender branches with their thunder light,  
Or as the earth once pining now reversed  
Bringing her long concealed joys to light  
So did Eliza change her sable hue,  
As if the graces formed her all anew.   

she's for no strain of virtue, but delight  
Plays on her pretty bosom: pensive thoughts  
As Hymen's enemies be put to flight,  
Fruits of more pleasure by this day are wrought  
In the fair Tablet of her beauteous sight,  
Then jove to Swanlike Leda ever brought,  
For that was stolen curbed by a jealous eye,  
But this was such as claimed free liberty.   

No dirges now she sings, but hymns of joy,  
Moved with a private motive of content:  
No sorrow now, no anguish, nor annoy  
Have any power in her blessed continent:  
She talks of Venus, and the waggish boy,  
And blames Adonis ask what he meant  
He did not honour Venus beauty more,  
But lose a mine of treasure for a Boar?   

●●t boorish lad (quoth she) pity it is,  
Such a good face should have so ill a wi●,  
That when thouart blest, dost not conceive thy bliss  
But seest a gem and yet respectst not it.  
Children are pleased with flowers: a fruitless kiss,  
A smile, or so, such babies best befit:  
Wherefore lest thou such flowers should seem to slain,  
In fruitless growth a flower thou dost remain.   

Thus was Eliza turned: all on the flaunt,  
Like Myrrha's daughter or Hermione,  
Having in hope what really she wants,  
Presaging comfort to posterity,  
Concluding thus: mansions where Graces haunt  
Cannot dejected or surprised be  
By times mutation: for no fatal hour  
Can raze that fort, that's kept by divine power.   

And as we oft times see in summer time,  
A shower of candid hailstones rattling down,  
Which makes the tops of touring oaks decline,  
The silver banks of rivers overflown,  
Proining the tendrils of the lofty Pine,  
With branchy cedars that are highest grown:  
Where suddenly the sun sends out his beams,  
Which quite dissolves the hail & stills the streams   

So this fair beam of Titan thus diffused,  
Into the amber border of her heart,  
Which was before (poor wench) by her refused,  
Now yields relief unto her former smart,  
Resuming sweet delights too long abused:  
Each proper virtue flows to every part.  
The tempest now is past, the sun appears,  
Which stops the source of all ensuing fears.   

Then fi● it were since that Eliza's mind,  
I● robed with nuptial thoughts: the solemn night,  
Should be portrayed, her t●uest joys assigned,  
To help her former hope with hopes delight:  
Descend a little lower: you shall find  
The model of chaste love decolord right:  
Not sensual affects which relish lust,  
For lust's not love: since love is pure and just.   

The gloomy night, when labour takes his rest,  
Birds take their perch and savage beasts their den,  
The night when hoary cares cease to infest  
With hot assault the silent sleeps of men:  
That blessed night, these nuptials made it blest  
Confirmed her hopes by her approaching then.  
For she addressed for pleasure doth undress,  
Herself to reap more perfect happiness.   

Now every muse had sung their last good night,  
And had ascended up Parnassus' mount,  
Wishing her as much joy and sweet delight,  
As ere they ioied, while bathing in the fount  
hight pure Castalia in Diana's sight  
And her attendants: Delia would account  
Them far more happy than the princely jove,  
For they were free but he was tossed in love.   

The azure curtains of the silver heaven  
Craving their absence: now the joyful bride  
Had of her bride cake to the Muses given,  
To the three Graces and the Nymphs beside,  
All which attended her: but now the even  
Made them though willing longer to abide,  
Dissolve their ranks Eliza left behind,  
To find the intention of her husband's mind.    

Annotations upon the last Canto.  
WE read in the Roman Festivals: when any marriage was to be solemnized, the parents of the parties, or their friends were accustomed to bring forth a fair Table of citre, curiously engraven: Vbi fercula optimis delicijs assluentia ●ocare assucrunt.  
— A song of Hebe deified.  
Hebe (as the Poets feign) was Iu●oes daughter, and made jupiters' cuppebearer▪ before he fell in love with Gannimedes: she is called most properly by the Poets— dea Iwentutis the Goddess of youth— Vide Ovid: in Metamorp.  
Woere on a row the sacred Muses sat.  
Clyo, Cally●pe, Melpomene, Euterpe, Polybymnia, Erato, Urania.— of ●a●re Soanimphs.  
Nereids a Nereo appellatae. As the Naiads be derived from Nais— a Nymph of the Fountains. Which be distinguished into 3 sorts by the ancient Poets— in Nereids— Naiades— Et Pieri●es. Nereids circa maritimos locos, Naiads cir●a rivos & amaeniores sontes, Pierides circa montium sublimiores vertices et spiracula versa●tur. And so Gerson (in his description of beasts) divides the several and distinct kinds of Satyrs into three sorts: satires, waich frequent woods, of a rude. savage and intractable Nature, which sometimes (more properly in my opinion) are called Sylvans, quia i● syluis & soli●udinibus asperioribus vitam colen●es. Fa●●es, all which took their name from Faimus, son to Picus, and father to Latinus: agrestem vi●am agunt, rapinis & violentia corum necessita●i subvenientes. And Dryads a Dryad Hyppolochi filio ducta. But of these you may read more amply in the fragments of Lucilius▪ and others, whose exacter wits have been craploied about affairs too impertinent: bringing in the clouds speaking with Aristophanes, planting their inventions upon aery foundations.  
They sang a song of Neptune to the shore.  
— resonantia littera reddunt  
carmina carminibus.—  
Vid: fabulam H●lis unius de Herculis socijs, qui in Ascanium Flumen missus, ut aquam ab eo hauriret, deflexo capite precepitius procidisse fertur, etc.  
— Next those admired Graces took their place.  
Aglaia, Thalia & Euphrosyne who had the power to bestow 3. several gifts: eloquence, invention, and sound judgement, upon whom they pleased.  
— In heavens high Hierarchy.  
Caeleste imperium in altissimum dignitatis cumulum provectum; quo nihil sublimius (ait orator) ut altius extendatur, aut clex gautius, ut maiorem in se splendorem amplectatur etc.  
— You are the nectar ri●ers.  
— Nectar ut ingenium. Nectar and Ambrosia the food of the Gods.  
— The Cadmian muse.  
Cadmus was son to Agenor, King of Phoenicia, who sent by his father to seek Europa his sister whom jupiter had stolen away, and no● finding her, durst not return, but planted himself in Baeo●ia, where he erected that most famous City T●ebes: he was excellent in the composition of all measures, but most addicted to prose: wherein he so exceeded, that his filled and elegant st●le was made as a precedent to after ages; he was thought to be the first who ever writ in prose, but I can hardly assent to that opinion: but rather I could admit of their assertion, who affirm him to be the first that reduced the Phoenicians from their barbarous and impolished kind of discourse, instructing them in a more exquisite form of speaking.  
— Moving the Sirens with the warbling voice.  
Syrenum voces et Cyrcis po●ula nosti etc.  Horatius' lib: 1o Epist: ad Coll: 
The three daughters of A helous ●nd Calliope.  
— If Phylomel w●●h her woeful note.  
Phylomela King Pandions' daughter, whom Tereus ravished: deploring her own calamity unto her sister Progne, who was wife to Tereus.  
— Unto the Amyclean lyre.  
Aryon— being born in Amycle a City of Laconia, takes his name of the place of his birth by a Tropical clocution, Metonim.  
Brought from one stem so many virtuous  
The virtuous progessie of El●za, which is paralleled if not superior to the best reputed families Septentrional.  
— Ask but the muses they will tell ye how?  
Musa— Quas varijs cecinisse modis— juuat.  
Nor if invention ●oth Eliza please;  
Invention which is the producer of things true, or such things as have a resemblance of truth: giving a probable reason of whatsoever is spoken or produced;— When the young men of Fonia had haled out that golden Tripod, which was to be given to the wi●est man of all Greece▪ it was brought first unto Th●les, then to S●lon, & so cursively unto all the wise Sages of Greece: by which was employed the moderation of their desires, rather disesteeming their own judgements, as unworthy of such an inestimable treasure, then attributing any thing to themselves, to be thought wise in the eye of the world. This by an Analogy is inferred by the modest and continent affections of Eliza, who rather disparageth her own worth, that she may avoid the censure of presumption, then by the pass of titulary praises, to vindicate the least honour, as a dependence of her merits.  
unde Senec: in Oedipod:  
— Nec pressae gravi  
spiritu antennae preman●: tuta me media vehat  
vita decurrens via.—  
Twixt Titan's torch and Thetis pitchy night  
Titan is used for the Sun: he was son to Caelum and Vesta.  
Th●●s daughter to Nereus God of the Sea, she is taken for the night.  
— Mare pro cubili noctis. Allegor:  
Virtues defender in this jubilee.  
This jubilee was continued in aunc●●nt time, and celebrated every 50. year but this word signifi●s a private solemnity, (in this place) consecrating their vows to Hymen the God of marriage, ●o paean: etc.  
Aglai● seems to reprehend Eliza for her too much modesty, moving her to suit her thoughts to the present time, w●ich Seneca shadows out in describing the habits of both the conqueror and conquered in these words.  
— Noscere hoc primum decet quid facere victor  
debet, victus pati.  
E●h odorous flower, and blossom redolent.  
Salutaria quaedam, citra tactum gustumne Odour proficiunt.  
A brief epitomising of the cheerful spring-time: illustrating the season by her habit. 
But as true makes impatient of delay.  
Vid: Horac: 1o lib: epist: epist: ay  
— Vid: Catull: 1ᵒ. lib. Eleg. Eleg. 30.  
Et Ovid: in Epist. ad Hippolit.  
Whose fragor pierced the tender branches  — Horat; Carm lib. 2ᵒ. oda x a. 
Or as the earth once pining now reversed  
— Mutat terra vices & decrescentia ripa●  
Flumina protere●t.  
— Then jove to Swan-like L●da.  jove who fell in love with Leda, wife to King Tindarus: she w●s transformed into a Swan, bringing forth two eggs. of the one whereof came Poll●x and Helen, of the other Castor and Clytaemnestra.  
— jealousy.  
jealous of Tindarus her husband, who was prone enough to apprehend each occasion of suspect. 
No dirges now.— etc.  These verses have reference to Eliz●es profession-making dirges, Trentals, and Roman Anthemiss no less pernicious to her own purity (which if not blasted with this soil, were most eminent) then commodious to her carnal or Ghostly father. 
In fruitless growth a slower thou dost remain.  
At eruor in store mutabitur x. lib. Metamor.   
Like Mirrahs' daughter or Hermione. Venus was daughter to Myrrah: there were two Hermiones the one daughter to Mars and Venus; The other daughter to Menelaus and Helena, who being betrothed to Orestes, but married to Pyrrhus, Oresies to revenge his wrong, slew Pyrrhus and took Hermione to wife. 
— For no fatal ●ower,  
Can raze that fort that's kept by divine power.  Here she intimates the cause of her transmutation not subjecteth to any peril, nor opposed by any power either external or internal.  
The Rhe●ians thought them secure, because the tomb of Al●x was erected in their region. Octa by the dispersed ashes of Hercules conceived no small pleasure: being persuaded the increase of their commerce with foreign countries proceeded from the happy possession of his monument.  
The like we read of the vain conceits of the Romans after the transportance of their Palladium into Italy, referring the whole state, welfare and preservation of their City, public and private affairs unto that poor helpless monument; which is prettily shadowed by S Augustine in 1, de Civitate Dei: where he vehemently seeks to demolish and recalcinate the whole Fabric of the Gentile Idolatry and that by human and moral reasons▪ expostulating the cau●e why they should repose such affiance in them, whom ●hey have found so impotent even in their own affairs? For (saith he) if they could have performed any things▪ ●t is likely they would have done their endeavour, when those inhabitants which adored them, that people which with such reverence admired them, was not only quite extinguished, but their Temples polluted, their ancient monuments defaced, and themselves contemptuously expulsed.  
But this was the blindness of that age which could not discern of that inward beauty and splendour of the mind bu●●●ed with a precipitant judgement made them their governors. their Tutelares Dij, their protectors, that needed supporters to s●●taine themselves. But I have made my digression too ample: especially in a tract which rather concerns pastoral Elegio●, than such heathen Prodigies. 
For lust's not love since love is pure andiust.  A main opposition betwixt love and lust: the one sensual, ever inclined to that which yields temporary delight: th● other plants her affections upon a mo●e firm groundwork, a sincere and a spotless intention.  
To read of those chaste and honourable matrons of Rome, who have excelled in all purity and integrity (as far as was possible for the pagans to attain unto in perfection): as Co●eli● the mother of Gracchus, Portia wife to Brutus, Cleobu●● daughter to that wise and prudent lage Cliobalus: Sul●itiae wife to Calepus, and that memorable Paula wife to Seneca▪ These knew the perfect form of love, and were well read in the precepts of chaste embracements, but far from the lest conceit or apprehension of lightness: but who shall chose read of the insatiable disposition of Messalina, the licentious affections of Oristilla, the incestuous desire of Phedra, and the impetuous fury of Medrea, shall presently conceive a main repugnance (or contrariety rather) betwixt love and lust: sith by the one, be commonweals in all unity and conjunction of minds established, wholesome and beneficial laws enacted, the bounds of kingdoms dilated, and aswell private as public affairs with due order and administration managed. For loves definition according to the opinion of Aristotle (of all Philosophers most profound) and Plutarch (of all morals most elaborate) is this: Love is impartial, yet of reason forgetful, she grounds her affection upon virtue, deeming that which is impious, unworthy of a mind generous.  
But lust the bane of flourishing Empires: the distasteful and unsavoury fruits whereof Troy▪ long since hath experience of by a Helen, Spartae by a Scedesa, m●y be thus defined: she is respectless of the means, so she may attain the end: her aim is to satisfy her own exorbitant affection, which to gain she is secure of her own ruin, country's desolation. The present discourse which I have taken in hand puts me in mind of that pretty and pithy induction of Lucian, bringing in Venus, demanding of Cupid for what cause he useth to wound with his virulent dart of love jupiter, Neptune, Apollo juno, but exempteth Pallas, Diana, and all the Muses from the chains of his servile affection: and he answers her: when I come near Pallas she threatens me, and opposeth my pleasures which I am wont to instill into the minds of men: the Muses they are employed insacred labours, continual exercises to the end they may attain to the perfection of their endeavours: Diana she frequents the woods, and retired solitudes, neither caring for love nor the instructions of love: she observes a restraint in herself and in her followers: she is too skilful in shooting to be shot by Cupid.  
The invention of Lucian is pleasant: prosecuting his whole discourse with such apt and accommodate words, that I could not choose but take a modest digression, to describe the powerful effects of labour, the sovereign remedies of good and virtuous studies against the objections of such, who rather repose in security to invert the violent assaults of carnal and inordinate desires: whose opinions resemble those of Aristo, Pyrrho, and Herillus, whose mature censures, have been thought unworthy of all philosophical convents. We ●r● the least secure, when in our own judgement most secure: and no malady more incurable than that which is insensible: the whole progress of this subject▪ as it may confirm itself, by infallible reasons, grounded on the fortress of divine and profane traditions: so the Poet seems (as one who had no little experience in the school of vanity) to conclude the general assertions of all with this Epiphonema: ●●ut●ing his institution up with a caution, his caution with a medicine. 
Otia si ●ollas periere Cupidini● arcus.  
Contemplaeque jacent & s●ue luce faces.  
Take away sloth, and Cupid cannot shoot.  
Thou mayst contemn him for his fire's put out.  
B●rds take their perch and savage beasts their den.  Nature hath ordained that every creature she hath made, should be refreshed with some moderate rest. Labour is sweet after rest and rest is a confirmer of labour, the one without the other would make us dissolute, the one without the other would make us effeminate. Sleep is but an Image of death ●a●th the Poet: Vergill calls sleep a near kinsman to death: having such consanguinity with sleep, that some of the ancient Philosophers (have termed it in plain terms a fle●●: this moaned (without all question) Theodorus that mirror of magnanimity, a philosopher of excellent discipline, to be so respectless of death, as to despise the menaces of a cruel tyrant and when he thought to add this as a greater punishment unto him, that none should bury him: what answered Theodorus? quod ad sepultur●m pertinet o te in●ptum si putas intenesse supra terram an infra putrescam; here was resolution in an Ethnic, making his expectance the goal, at which he aimed, his threats (tyrants ensigns) in which he gloried to vanquish an implacable tiger at his own weapons▪ 
— And had ascended up Parnassus' top.  Parnassus a mount whereto the mus●s used to resort▪ we have three mountains renowned for Musical celebrities: being called by the Poets Musaea solennia dutum. The solemn or Sacred recluses or habitations of the gods: for thereto they used to descend to hear the alternate compositions (for such please● ther● best) of the muses.  
Modern examples may be produced of most exquisite lyrics, who enstiled themselves inhabitants in the Flowery mountain Parnassus, as Theano daughter to Metapon●us; Zenobia the Queen of Palmyra: Argentaria Pollia wife to Lucan who is said to have been a fellow helper in all his compositions: even in the heroickst measures which he ever compiled.  
Edesia of Alexandria Corimathea who is reported to have excelled Pindarus that famous Poet in apt and consonant cade● ces▪ yea contending with him five several times for the coronet or ga●land, which by the censure of the most approved Judicials was given (as of desert) unto ●●●imathea.  
Theodosia daughter to Theodosius the younger, merited great commendation for her laborious dimensions, no less excelling in her own inventions, then in extractions from others: reducing the fragments of Homer into centons, with many other works of no less memory bearing yet her title in their Frontispiece. etc. 
— Hight pure Castalius in Diana's sight.  Castalius a fountain issuing from Parnassus, the streams whereof tropically be taken for the influence of poesy. The Muses be called Castalides per Sy●cedochen. Et vos Castalis font sorrows etc. 
— Delia would account.  Delia or Diana, so called of Delos an I'll of the Cycladeses, bossded in with the Aegean sea, here the Poets saigne Apollo and Diana to be borne. 
— Now the joyful Bride  
Had of her Bridecake to the Muses given.  Pliny relates of these solemn uses, observed in ancient time: as the Cakes or Wafers consecrate to Hyme●, with many ceremonies, as the aspersion of salt, to signify unto us, Nuptials should be seasoned with a relish of sobriety. The bride to be carried into the house (after her marriage rites were solemnized) to intimate how unwilling she is to lose the inestimable gem of her virginity, with many other observations which be more fully recorded in Ludovic. Vives, in his instruction of a christian woman. The like we read, in the Antiquities of Egypt, whose Pagan customs deserve no less memory than admiration for their exactness in all moral celebrities tempered with incredible modesty.  
These Annotations may be no less fruitful to the unripe Poetaster, then socrates' glass was to his Scholars, or Cleanthes Table to convey the proper & peculiar inventions of poesy (by a plain method) to every docile and apprehensive wit. Let such as read these few collections approve of my endeavours, who have ever bended my intentions, to wain this age from her infancy, and with the Elephant to induce them to wade into the depths of profounder mysteries, always making this my impressa. Stare est obstare caeptis.  
But since the brooks of Helicon were troubled with every obscene foot; This admired Art hath been much obscured, not because her profession is ill, but for her profess●nts, which ●re either ignorant, (which sort is more parde●able) or petulant of all sorts must detestable, in making Parnassus a stew, and the Muse's harlots: arrogating to themselves the names of Panders, by the scurrility of their own inventions: but such pregnant wits are ill bestowed on such petulant brains, whose imaginations neither produce profit to themselves, nor to their country to be esteemed above themselves▪ but deprave many blooming wits (who the sooner budded the sooner blasted) conceive more delight in their lascivious subjects then in tracts of greater consequence. Which Iwenall handles more fully in his four and ●wentith Satire, accommodating his discourse wholly to the instruction of youth.  
Three kinds of these there be which deserve reprehension: The first, time-obseruing Po 〈…〉 sooth vice, and bolster their patron's errors. Such was Aristobulus, whose works when Alexander heard to be far above truth, though Annals of his own memorable Acts, yet he threw the book over into the river Hydaspis', saying, he was almost moved to send Aristobulus after: a good caveat for clawing parasites. The second sort I propound as opposite to the first, invective Satirists sharptoothd Epigrammatists: Eupolus was such whom Alciby●des threw into the Sea Aegeum, for representing him (and that with intolerable bitterness) upon the public Theatre: adding this to Eupolus throwing him overboard. Thou hast often drowned me upon the Stage, Eupolu●, I will once drown thee in the Se●.  
The third venereal lyrics, who descant on their mistress proportion, aptly epitherising her symmetry, with such immodesty, that if Ovid was exiled for his licentious writing & that by a Heathen, Epicharmus for composing one unseemly song, and presenting the same to the Queen of Sparta, was doomed to no less punishment: much more deserve they to be excluded all flourishing commonweals, writing that which confers no less detriment to a well governed state, than effe●●●●cy to such whose minds should be exercised in more viril actions. Wherefore when Plato understood that the manners and dispositions of men were much corrupted by the theatral profession (or rather prostitution) of Poets, he exp●lfe● them all forth of his common weal, leaving it to be governed by philosophers, the gravity of whose judgements discerning right from wrong, might diiudicate according to their knowledge.  
But the licentiousness of the Poets in P●atoes time may be a reason, that his censure was so universal; more modesty becometh these times: nothing (of what subject soever) is commendable in prose, but may retain her lustre in verse: yea more exactness of measures draw attention, always shutting up our labours with a modest accent: non expectamus ●hea tri applausum. Plaut. But I have extended my bounds further than I purposed: supposing no discourse more suiting either with argument of instruction or poesy then that which is succinctly contracted. I will therefore proceed.   

A description of the Morn.  

AVrora sending out his tresses fair,  
Garnishd the earth with his resumed light,  
Bedewed moist with her impearled hair,  
Deposed horned Luna queen of night,  
And all the twinkling stars which did appear  
By Phoebus' ivory coach are put to flight,  
Thus doth the Sun dethrone the watery Moon  
As high estates the lower do put down.   

Down to the water doth the Moon descend,  
There to repose till Sol had run his course,  
Up from the sea to earth doth Sol ascend  
Seeming anew to renovate his force:  
The Sun's beginning gives the moon an end,  
This leaveth worse for good, that good for worse.  
This sends her lustre to th'adriatic Seas,  
That takes her place among th'Antipodes.   

The pitchy vale of silent night thus drawn,  
When labour rubs his eyes and shakes of sloth,  
Being unto the lower regions gone,  
Aurora represents these lovers both,  
To a fair tree, broad branchd that fruit brings none  
Yet makes a show of fruit as others doth.  
Which he awaking sees, applieth the ends  
Unto himself, whom thus he reprehends.    

The pensive thoughts of Gastilio, in Sapphycks.  
Rouse up thy spirit, (creature most inhuman)  
Fix thy contentment on Eliza's beauty,  
To which the wood gods tied are in duty.  
Shame fall a coward.  
How many Hero'es have adored her Image,  
Passing a torrent of approaching danger?  
More than Alcides for a Deyanyra  
E'er made adventure.  
Let Hymenaeus who was ever present,  
At thy solemnised ●risons be graced,  
With an eternal monument of glory,  
Leave to be shame fast.  
Shame may confound the shame to after ages,  
To let a cheerful virgin lie beside thee,  
And yet do nothing: worst of ills betid thee:  
Learn to be wanton.  
Nature hath made the● to her own dishonour,  
To loathe that subject which she first created,  
To yield thee comfort shall her work be hated,  
By thee rejected?  
Art thou composed of an human substance,  
Flesh, blood and sinews, to refuse a pleasure,  
Which far exceedeth store of earthly treasure.  
Fool be more hardy.  
See but the fishes, how one love another,  
Male with the female generates together,  
What pure affection doth appear in either,  
Wonder of ages.  
See the small ivy, with her ivy branches,  
How she the poplar flourishing embraceth,  
And as a spouse his spousal honours graceth,  
So is she graced.  
The savage tiger, who frequents the mountains,  
loves to be loved, is by love subdued,  
And with his lovers presence is renewed.  
Love is a loadstone.  
For as the loadstone doth attract his iron,  
And with embraces shows his love unto it,  
This fair resemblance shows as if he wooed it.  
Stones far exceed thee.  
The liquid regions join their power together,  
And those four divine elements adhering,  
Seem as if all together were conspiring.  
Equally moving.  
The crawling serpents in their kind coiting,  
Viper to viper in their generation,  
Shows how dame nature in their propagation  
Bred them for breeding  
The birds that hover in the sky above us,  
Will (if thou mark them) to affection move us,  
Males love their females, so our female love us.  
Mates would be mated.   

Observations upon two precedent verses, deduced out of Magyrus in his Physics.  
— For as the load stone doth attract his iron:  
Magyrus in his physics calls Iton, Pabulum magnetis, the fuel of the magnet.  
Ferri attractio impeditur presentia adamantis.  
Occulta quadam antipathia: ibid.  
Viper to viper.  
Alcyatus in his Emblems: Pliny in his natural history: premorso capite maris semen concipiens vipera: dum parit (proprio partu) vita privatur.  
Officiosa aliis exitiosa suis▪ Alcyat.  
Quicquid parit, curam habet eorum, quae parit. Philos. axiom.   

A Threnode occasioned upon the Author's discontent: in that he loves yet cannot be respected: with a continued Hymn or Acrostic sonnet best sorting with his amorous passion.  

Eternal anquish torment to my breast,  
Languishing horror, ever scalding hot,  
Imperious Queen that seeks thy loves unrest,  
Shaken with tempest in a crazy boat.  
Anchor of comfort let me lean on thee,  
So shall it well go with my bark and me.   

Beauty's fair daisy, honour to thy maker,  
Endued with nature's fair admired treasure,  
Throne of a goddess, chastity's partaker,  
Helm to my ship, the only port of pleasure.  
Blessed for thy feature and admired ever,  
Always abiding fresh, defaced never.  
Sapphic.  
Rest to the unrest, shadow of reposure,  
To shade the weary from the parching sun shine,  
O fair Eliza, blest is that enclosure,  
Nature hath lent thee.  
O dear remember but what solemn vows,  
What vows, what protestations in that grove,  
That grove, that grave which yields more pensive shows  
Unto my tear swollen eyes, than ever love  
Can make amends for: O remember me  
And what pure hests I dedicate to thee.   

Even in that garden clad with bitter sweets,  
For what soe'er was sweet● seemed sour to me,  
With what fair words, what promises, entreats  
Proceeded from my mouth to purchase thee.  
Yet thou unkind: (unkindness is a sin)  
To love that star-dazd Nymph, that loves not him   

Perhaps some words (as undiscreetly spoken,  
As god ●ot simple souls do mean no harm)  
Made your first bonds of fancy to be broken,  
So as my folly might your wit forewarn,  
Not to respect fond vows which do proceed,  
As idle talk from some fantastic head.   

O let me call yourself to record here,  
Whether such semblance of my feigned love,  
From time to time did ever yet appear,  
That you should your affection thus remove?  
O answer me dear love, O be so kind  
Whom you'll not love to satisfy his mind.   

O thou wilt say I never fancied thee,  
I cared not for the place where thou abode,  
I took no pleasure, no felicity  
In thy discourse: love where it is is showed:  
O argue not so roughly, for you know,  
Of love I never made external show.   

But if your image be not in my breast,  
Which I will carry still in spite of fate:  
Then let me never reap that sacred rest,  
That mansion of delight, that glorious slate.  
O be more kind let that same love I bear,  
Unto yourself, more joyful tidings hear.   

Alas how many weary toilsome nights,  
●aue I tossed to and fro, withouten rest?  
Affrighted with such sad disaster sights,  
As these short lines can no way make expressed:  
And what's the cause I cannot rest, nor sleep?  
Because thy beauty doth mine eyelids keep.   

For when they would be shut thou keeps them open,  
Making them look upon thy image fair:  
As if amazed to see that glorious cope  
With which the Spheres of heaven may well compare  
And therefore puts mine eyes to double pain,  
In opening them, and shutting them again.   

Oft have I dreamt, I did possess my love,  
Rapt with a passion of a fond conceit,  
Close were my fences: none of all could move  
Their senseless numbness: but like servants wait  
In all obedience both with tooth and hand,  
To hear what thou their mistress would command   

This golden slumber, slumber of delight,  
Fo● more content such slumbers yielded me,  
Th●n any food I tasted: or the sight  
Of my object, save the sight of thee:  
Which slumber past and looking all about me  
I was perplexed to lie alone without thee.   

And yet no wanton or luscivious thought,  
Did ever move me for to wantonise,  
For though that shrine of thine was long time sought  
It was that I thy shrine might eternize,  
That so our loves eternisd both together,  
What chanced unto the one might chance to either   

But I am lavish in confounded loves,  
And weaves a web for chaste Penelope,  
But two for Lais: Venus milk white doves,  
Transport my erring senses; and agree  
So to obscure the palace of my soul,  
That what was pure should now be passing foul.   

Do not believe such vipers as infest  
With poisoned breath the glory of my name,  
I vow to God that I have loved thee best,  
And have been ere respective of my shame.  
Let heaven and earth my mansion both remove,  
When I do soil thy bed with foreign love.   

O what unfruitful members were those sprays,  
That nourished Serpents in their flowery shade,  
And fed our rooted loves with long delays,  
Undoing that which nature first had made:  
For this I think (if prophecies be true)  
Nature ordained me to marry you.   

Not nature but the divine powers above,  
Which manage our affections as they please,  
Extracting out of hate the constant love  
Their minds contracted in the bonds of peace.  
Even that same power (I think) doth so ordain,  
That though you hate, you once will love again.   

The plants, the birds, the beasts, the fishes small,  
Are made to love: see how the ivy twines  
Upon the ruins of a scaled wall,  
Or twists about the wastes of fruitful vines:  
Embracing them with branches spreading broad,  
Supporting them when grapes their science load▪   

The loving Turtle loves her faithful make,  
Whom if she miss, she pines away and dies,  
abjuring mirth and pleasure for his sake  
Filling the crispling air with doleful cries:  
The stork, the Starling, and the sweer tuned thrush  
Will seek their makes through every brake & bush   

The libbard, Tiger, Panther, beasts most wild,  
Can be subdued by loves sweet harmony,  
Transformed from savage beasts to creatures mild,  
Oppressed (as seems) with loves extremity.  
The clivy mountains, and the vales below,  
By echoes shrill, their loves pursuit do show.   

The skalie fishes in their watery clime,  
Taste of the fruit of love, each in their kind,  
Observing season, nature, course and time,  
Such relish pleasures in loves passions find▪  
That languishing they fall away and die,  
When they're deprived of loves society.   

If every creature thus ordained be,  
For to observe the solemn rites of love:  
Dost thou suppose she hath exempted thee,  
No pensive passions ere thy mind to move?  
O be not so deluded: dear you know,  
You had a father, let your son say so.   

What is a jewel worth, if ever kept,  
Closely confined within the chest of earth?  
No more is beauty, when occasion's slipped,  
Gracing her Image with no second birth:  
O let this after age thine Image find,  
By some record which thou shalt leave behind.   

And what record? a specious issue left,  
(Thy second image) to adorn the stage  
Of this terrestrial frame of worth, bereft  
If thou should die, surprised in blooming age:  
O then since beauty is both green and tender,  
It needs some for rose, to be her defender.   

Let me that fortress be, and i'll support  
Those freeborn blossoms of thy tender prime,  
With thousand sugared kisses, and resort  
With mir●h, and spikenard, daily to thy shrine,  
This will I do, more would I gladly do,  
If thou my love would for pure love allow.  
Take these few lines and keep them still with thee  
And reading them think now and then of me.    

The poet's legacy to his admired Eliza: devoted and bequested to her chastest thoughts.  

THy once deer friend but now despised of thee,  
Bequeathes unto thy shrine, what ere is his:  
His wreath and laurel, which for poesy,  
Was given by Clio: for that muse did wish,  
Much good unto thy lover: even like bliss  
Fall on thy sacred temples, beauteous queen,  
In far more plenty then tofore was seen.   

Next I bequeath, that little wit I had,  
Sma●l though it be, I have entitled thine,  
That in thy wayward dumps perplexed and sad,  
Some sparkling beams in thy conceit may shine,  
Which thou wilt laugh at: and will call them mine:  
But I ●enounce them, writ they were by me,  
But for no end save this: to pleasure thee.   

Then do I give, and in my gift bequeath,  
All those external Trophies which I had:  
The motive air of my persuasive breath  
And that small pipe which used to make swains glad,  
And s●uage Tigers in their fury mad.  
This strain of music Orpheus far surpassed,  
For mine by all the sisters nine was graced.   

This I bequeath unto thy gentle t●tch,  
Touch it sweet queen, and it will answer thee,  
With far more music, yea with full as much  
As old Arion with his harmony,  
By mine, sweet Nymph, Dolphins shall carry thee  
Sirens themselves, and Satyrs at command,  
Shall bring thee safe unto th'elysianElysian sand.   

Some little gifts, as cheese cakes, chestnuts sweet,  
With some oblations which I vowed to jove,  
Shall be devoted to thy tripping feet,  
That used to walk within the shady grove  
Of Helicon and Ida mount of love.  
These little gifts did Mopsus offer me,  
And with like will I offer them to thee.   

Two pretty fragrant nosegays did I send,  
Made of sweet flowers, which twisted up together,  
Were given thee (as I wished) from me thy friend,  
That thought of one might make thee think of either  
But thou too marble hearted minding neither.  
Despised me and my gifts: which though but small  
Yet they were great to me; for I gave all.   

Next I bequeath that earring which I had,  
But now I have not, for I vow it's thine,  
And those short poems which my first age made,  
That I may say something thou hast of mine,  
For which though fury's seeming to repine,  
At such a blessing as my works possessed,  
Let them repine I care not I am blest.   

I had the shrine of Venus in my chamber,  
Which I resolved for to bequeath to thee,  
With rosy locks and hair as pure as amber,  
But there were some objections hindered me,  
Which was the cause I did not send it thee.  
For though it was well coloured, yet it had,  
For some parts good so many parts as bad.   

The tincture of her face congealed in blood,  
Seemed too too ugly, for thy gracious eye,  
Her lips too great: her face too shameless showed:  
All which foul crimes, thy judgement would descry  
(Thy piercing eyes can privat'st errors spy.)  
For Venus seems no Venus but a swain,  
Some flub faced trull borne in the Tuscan plain.   

Next I bequeath a picture unto thee,  
Which though lascivious, yet believe me dear,  
It is not half so wanton as was she,  
Whose form this senseless form presented here,  
As by her lively actions may appear.  
It is that Myrrah beauties sacred mother,  
Who being dead for beauty left another.   

Here may you see within your entire thoughts,  
The maze of love, and labyrinth of lust,  
With what affecting means poor Myrrha sought  
To void incestuous pleasure, which she must  
She must perforce sustain: where she doth trust  
Her mellow youth; which thus encircled, rather  
Than she will keep she'll give it to her father.   

He spouse and father, she both child and wife,  
He nipped with age, she with an i●ie pleasure,  
Thus he triumphs in his incestuous life  
Loving to gaze upon forbidden treasure,  
Locking her up lest he perchance should lose her.  
Glad would she take a time for liberty,  
But she's kept in by father's jealousy.   

Thus in a spacious grove, an ample field,  
May you (dear queen) cull flowers of every kind,  
First how a Nymph enforced god wot to yield  
(A willing force) th'affection of her mind,  
Leaving the rob of chastity behind.  
This picture I will send you, you may take,  
This beauty's statue for your beauty's sake.   

For had not Myrrha been, nor Mirrhaes' youth  
Youth had not flourished in a Venus brow,  
Nor had her beauty come to perfect growth,  
Nor that sweet modest blush appears in you,  
Could represent so eminent a show.  
Venus from Myrrha took her first beginning  
Myrrha from Cinyras incestuous sinning.   

Thus have I made my final legacy,  
And consecrated to your radiant beauty,  
Though not consorting with your puriry,  
Yet am I so devoted in all duty  
That I could wish my poems so should suit thee.  
That with such passions they in fine might move thee  
As reading these, these might enforce thee love me.    

Annotations upon the last Elegy.  
This strain of music Orpheus far surpassed.  
Orpheus' son to Apollo and Calliope was esteemed the skilfullest upon the Harp of all others: he moved (as Poets record) mountains, tamed savage beasts, infused life into senseless stones, trees, and forests, by his admirable skill he brought his wife Euridyce out of hell, ravishing the infernal fur●es with his music: upon whom our modern Epigrammatists (wherein we may no less glory, than Rome of her martial, Mantua of her Maro, Corduba o● her Se●eca, writeth thus: 
Orpheus uxorem raptam repetivit ab orco:  
Duxit ab inferno femina nulla virum.   
Englished.  
Orph●us his woeful wife brought back from ●ell,  
Few wives will use their husband's half so well.  
Annexion.  
They'll bring them back from heaven, and which is more,  
Bring them to hell, they never knew before.  
Thus far of Orpheus▪ some have supposed, he was the first who found our plurality of Gods. which opinion was so generally embraced after by the Thracians, entituling him in their own Temples 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 but I refer that to the reading of the judicious who perchance may distinguish of Orpheus: there being diverse of that name, of which the most illustrious he seemed to be, of whom we now make mention, both for an harmonious touch upon the lyre, and those solemn celebrities yearly observed by the Thracians in his memory.  
— As old Arion with his harmony.  
Arion a famous harper of Greece, having got great store of gold and silver among the latins, and desirous to resalute his native country, embarked himself secretly in a pirates ship: of whom and of whose wealth being made acquainted, they conspired together to throw him of shipboard: to be partakers of so infinite a mass of treasure, which they accordingly effected: where Arion by the force of his melody, stilling the surges of the sea, drew by his attractive power, a Dolphin to carry him on his back to his long expected harbour Laconia. He was also memorable for his skill in composing lyric verses, or songs aptly made for his Hatpe.  
Some flub faced trull borne in the Thuscane plain.  
Et solent campi● Thurijs puell●  
Solis aestivi radijs refer  
Ora▪ quae primò specie decora.  
Sol● cremantur.  
Inhabiting under the Torrid zone.  
— With what affecting means poor Myrrha sought.  
Myrrha daughter to Cin●rus King of Cypress▪ who unnaturally was inflamed with lust towards her father: by whom she had Adonis.  
Whose end well sorted with such an incestuous birth.  
Of her the Poet speaks thus.  
Ann●it & renuit, modo vult, modo caepta parents  
Repulit, ●aud licuit, dixit, at illa facit.  
He spouse and father, she both child and wife.  Ovid in Metamorph. 
Tune eris & matris pellex & adultera patris?  
Tune sorror nati, genitrixque voca●ere fratris?  
Forsitan aetatis quoque nomine filia, dixit,  
Dixit & illa pater sceleri ne nomina desint.  
In Elizam Tetrastychon.  
— Mirtus amat Venerem, Laurus Elizam.  
Lenta salix tumulum succingat, tempora laurus,  
Mirtus amat Venerem, Laurus & ipsa meam.  

In Elizam ob aquam corporis temperiem incredibilem fragrantiam mittentem.  
Mit●i● Eliza 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & odoribus omnia fragrent,  
Omnia quae manibus tractat Eliza suis.   

In Elizam ut huius vitae initia vitae longè melioris auspicijs augeantur.  
Vivat & Elysios post ultima funera campos  
Aspiciat, laeta est tempore, laeta fine.  
No nuptials now, no lays, no Hymens, palls  
But ● poor shroud I crave, and that is all.  
CANDIDAE ET EXIMIAE HERAE ET HEROI NOBILI STEMMATE ORTAE, NON MINORI ANIMI QVAM CORPORIS PRAESTANTIA ORNATAE  
Do, dico, dedico,  
— Opera omina, omnia.   
FINIS.   

Errata.  
In the argument pag 3. lin 18. for Syreus r. Siren's. ibid. for rain r. ruin. p 16. lin. 16. for out r. on. p▪ 20. lin 4, r. joys with sadness. p. 29. l. 13. for aligine r. Caligine. p. 33. l. 7. for rest r. rest. ibid. lin. 12. for remote r. remorse. p. 41. l. 1. for Vesus r. Vesta. pag. 42. l. 1. for paved r. p and. p. 44. l. 15. for which r. with.