The Country Shepherd that searce sees a Man  
In six or seven days, but hills and dales,  
For aught I know may know as much of Pan,  
As he that sits composing hours tales.   
Neither do I think all men castawayes that are not of my mind;  

Nor will I think all damned that will not come  
To worship at my Mountains; though I know  
Each Molehill seems a Mountain unto some;  
And every Cock will on his Mountain crow.  
For neither on this Mountain, nor on that,  
Nor yet on yonder Molehill, will I build  
A Church upon; but only on that flat  
And lowest valley in my Grandsires' field:   
And if Mr. Envy object anything, I will give no other answer but this: What I have written, I have written.  

But there be some have gotten mighty skill  
To hid the devil, though they never could  
Endeavour to resist him with their will,  
And to displace him durst not be so bold,  
Because they think it is in vain to try:  
They think he's strong, and so he is indeed;  
No hold so strong to prove our misery,  
As for to think we cannot quite be freed:  
For if we think he's strong, and there's none stronger,  
This very thought will prove our woes prolonger.  
Let him alone, saith one, and let him dwell  
In his fool's paradise, he'll know no better:  
For there be some have lived so long in Hell,  
Think there's no place can yield them comforts greater.   

Quere.  

Proud Cobbler do not suit beyond thy Last.  
Who taught thee this? Art thou more wiser grown  
Then all thy Teachers living gone and passed,  
Whose walkings true humility have shown?    

Answer.  

Truly I cannot think amiss of thee;  
As for thy speech, I will not much contrary:  
Let others think even what they list of me,  
I will not much from this thy compass vary:  
If I should say contrary unto this,  
My conscience then would give my tongue the lie,  
And at this folly every Boy would hisse;  
Yea, even the stones on which I walk would cry.  
What shall we think of all our Father's old,  
Which now are dead, and gone, and in the Dust?  
How shall we with presumption be so bold  
To say, Their souls are perished in their Rust;  
Their hopes are lost, they lived in ignorance,  
In monasterial buildings spent their times;  
Whose superstitious pipe made them dance  
All in a mist among the cloudy rhymes?  
I should be sorry for to speak or think  
Amiss of any one that doth endeavour  
To walk with God; for they and we do drink  
All of one Cup; and why shall any sever  
What God hath joined? Our souls and theirs together  
Shall meet in God, even in the Sea of love;  
For God is love, respecting one and either:  
His noble ways all humble souls approve;  
But lofty souls prefer their own good thinking  
Before his noblewayes, and humble Stations,  
And scorn the Troughes appointed for Lambs drink,  
And to the Wolvish nature have Relations.  
God was a God, and is from age to age,  
In infancy, in childhood, and in youth;  
And he hath aged men that can presage,  
And in all ages used them for his mouth.  
He speaks to us, and we regard him not;  
He passeth by, and we cannot perceive him;  
His lively breathe we have soon forgot,  
And with our breathe we would fain deceive him.  
And how can we in conscience speak or think,  
That our forefathers were but castaways?  
This bitter potion yet could never sink  
Into my Breast; nor will I speak the praise  
Of any one that vomits up his Gall  
Against our Grandsires, honest-hearted men,  
That built us goodly Churches, more than all;  
Few will do now adays as they did then:  
They loved our Nation well that built us these;  
And in contempt of scorn they set up Crosses,  
And took no thought to please or to displease,  
But underneath that Banner bore their losses.  
To Shepherds, Herdsmen, and to them that use  
The Thresher's flail, he hath and doth appear;  
Vinedressers, Ploughman, he did ne'er refuse;  
The Beggar as the King, to him is near:  
Our times are in his hand, our barren days,  
In which we think ourselves too old to bear,  
When Hairs grow white, and human strength decays,  
He to a flame the Widow's coal shall rear.  
Old Israel shall be his strength again,  
And both their Bones in Canaan Land shall rest  
Although in Egypt they as yet remain,  
And with Taskmasters mightily oppressed;  
Yet out of Egypt God hath called his Son:  
Although 'tis good in youth to bear the yoke.  
God hath his time, and when the Glass is run,  
The evil nature will in Jordan choke.  
But now we talk as men, and bandy words,  
As men throw Fireballs with an intent  
To burn up all; or with our fourbished Swords,  
To cut down all opposers of content:  
And right or wrong, we fight for victory,  
When truth lieth low and trampled on with feet,  
Our squinteyed love is seen apparently  
With only How do ye? As the common greet.   

This as a Porch for Introduction stands,  
To entertain all comers of good will;  
I pass not if some come with bloody hands,  
Or with intent to murder or to kill:  
Yet let them walk within my Porch a while,  
And view what I've portrayed in every corner,  
Such contemplations may produce a smile,  
And may effect some goodness in a scorner;  
The very pavements will declare and tell,  
Love travels here and there; for she leaves signs,  
Where ere she comes, her footsteps are known well;  
She her reproofs with sweetness enterlines;  
But had you eyes to see within the vail,  
Or could you draw the curtain, and behold  
Love in her simple beauty, 'twould assail  
And move your dry affections seven fold:  
In the mean time walk here, and contemplate  
A while of love; for strife grows out of date.  
But,  
Reader, art thou a Reader? Then I writ  
To thee, that never tookst degree in Schools;  
And be not angry if I do invite  
Thee to a Feast, even to a Feast of Fools:  
For Fools by nature, are, in my esteem,  
To be preferred above the common sort  
Of learned Knaves, whose gravity may seem  
To pass along for honest men in sport:  
But let them pass in sport: But when I saw  
Some throwing Firebrands among the Thatch  
Where poor Folks dwell, I did discern the Paw  
And Clovenfooted Beast began to catch;  
Then I began to view them Tooth and Nail,  
Comparing Teeth with Teeth and Eyes with Eyes;  
Then somewhat doubting lest my skill should fail,  
My own experience fell to underprize:  
Then fell to viewing of my Lambs again,  
And overviewed my Sheep, and well observing  
How they their qualities do still retain,  
And from their nature very seldom swerving:  
Heed these like Lambs, quoth I, that come thus armed,  
With Tooth and Nail to by't and to destroy?  
For very few can pass by them unharmed,  
Or else deluded by some base decoy.  
'tis well for us, and happy, may I say,  
Are we that live in such a knowing age,  
That we are able for to show the way  
Unto our rumbling Shepherds, though they rage:  
Yea, we have found, and have discerned in part  
A far more excellent and lovely way  
Then ever yet was faund by humane Art,  
Though they went seeking a whole Summer's day:  
And now 'tis almost natural to us  
To know our Shepherd's voice, from others pratings;  
For no decoy can imitate him thus,  
To follow to the death in imitatings.  
Well then, I think it is no Heresy  
To mingle souls with kisses, when we find  
Life-blood run through the Veins, and can espy  
Nature rejoice to elevate the mind.  
For as the Face doth answer, when the Face  
Makes signs to speak, and cannot choose but speak,  
And understands full well the secret trace  
Of overcharged minds that needs must break;  
And when we see by nature every thing  
is glad to see his likeness, and desires  
For to produce his likeness, when the spring  
And streams of love sends forth uncooling fires:  
Even so 'tis in the lofty soaring soul  
That-slees beyond the raging waves, and Sees,  
A Bed of Roses where she means to roll  
And will not stay in regions that do freeze:  
And as the earth sends forth her rich increase,  
And earthly minds rejoice in earthly things;  
So multiplying souls will never cease,  
Till they enclose eternity with wings.  
Blush then, ye mortals, ah! Why will you die?  
How can you live on these decaying pleasures?  
Your life is hid, alas, you cannot spy  
Nothing but emblems of some future treasures;  
No substances, but shadows: Why d'ye you stand  
Here all the day? Are you not hired yet?  
Look yonder, Sirs, why don't ye see the hand  
That points to working ere the Sun be set?  
Must all our time be spent in taking care,  
In looking after Asses? Can you see  
No further than the manger of your fare?  
Will nothing with your poor conceits agree,  
But Oxford Husks? Will words your bellies fill?  
Or can you like Chameleons live by air?  
Will knowledge from the Eastern wind distil?  
Or Eagles feed on fancies of despair?  
Eagles have eyes, and they can see afar;  
And Moles have eyes, but undermine the earth:  
But 'tis poor Music, stops at every jar;  
But humble souls ne'er want some holy mirth.     

Marsh his much Monument.  

THe Shepherd's Boy perceives the Winter gone,  
And being loath to lose his precious time,  
Looks out, and sees the lovely spring come on,  
Joyful to take the season in the prime,  
Begs liberty of Pan for half a day,  
To recreate him, with his fellow Swayns;  
A place appointed for disport and play,  
Where they right kindly each one entertain;  
Whose country kindness, friendly compliments,  
Was, Welcome Tom, and John, and Ned, and Will,  
Harry, and Phil, and Ralph, with fair intents,  
Near to a Wood, sat down beneath a Hill,  
In Countrey-Gray, and Russet comely Weeds,  
With Sheep-Hooks in their hands, engraven fine,  
And at their Girdles stuck their Oaten Reeds,  
And every one a bush of Eglantine,  
Under a spreading Tree made Arbour wise;  
Nature and Art did sympathise together  
To keep out Sol; yet Sol did ways devise,  
And with his rays did force a passage thither:  
But mark how soon the Milkmaids miss their mates,  
Their loving Mates are gone to merry making,  
With watery Eyes Sicily, and Doll relates.  
Their sorrows, and of sorrows each partaking;  
Fair Isabel and Dinah range the field,  
Where they might see the frisking Lambs at play;  
The Shepherdesses at the last beheld  
Them as some strangers who had lost their way,  
Saying, Ho come hither, for we know your minds;  
We know you seek the Shepherd's Lads; I'll tell  
You where to find them; for ye are our friends  
And fellow-servants, and we love you well;  
'tis our desire you run to Sisse and Doll,  
And bid them bring their Cates, the best they can,  
And we'll be ready, or within a call,  
For to accommodate you. Then they ran  
And brought the news: The Milkmaids they provide  
Their Curds and Cream, Fresh-Cheese, and other cheer,  
Custands and Cheesecakes of the best beside,  
A Pasted wall well filled with good red Deer;  
They quickly dress themselves in Milk-white sleeves,  
Kercheifs, and Aprons, Hand-Cuffes Laced and Purled,  
And without ask fairly took their leaves,  
As if intending for another world;  
Like nimble Does, they trace the flowery plains;  
The Shepherdesses met them on the Green,  
And making haste, for want of time complains,  
Lest over-late they should in love be seen;  
As if composed of love, and overjoyed  
To see their Mates, came rudely rushing in:  
The Shepherds were with better mirth employed;  
Yet to comply, at least they do begin,  
Welcome, sweet friends, kind Dorothy and Sisse,  
And Isabel fair, and all the rest,  
You Shepherdesses help to work our bliss,  
As by your coming have right well expressed;  
Come, sit you down, and we'll partake with you  
Of your choice dainties, sigh it is your will;  
And what is ours we freely will bestow,  
And for our friendship you may claim itstill.  
The Maidens they present their dishes fine,  
Rudely, yet sweetly; for it was their love;  
On nature's Carpet, saying, Come and dine,  
Our true affections did this voyage move  
To come and seek you: Now we know your haunt,  
we'll visit you sometimes, against your will  
There's something sure in you that doth enchant,  
That made us follow you unto this Hill,  
Each Shepherd had his Bottle by his side,  
Full of good Liquor, some of every sort,  
Cider and Perry, Beer well Clarified,  
And Bottle-Ale, that gave a good report,  
Wine, and Metheaglin of the British making;  
Excess consists not in variety;  
The sober usage sets no heads on aching;  
For there was Nectar always standing by.  
When all were set in order in the place,  
One of the Shepherd's Lads, they called him Harry,  
A sober youth, stepped up, and he said Grace,  
And with much gravity himself did carry.   

The GRACE.  
THou All in all, thou only God of Love,  
That in all Creatures every where dost move:  
Thou God of life, and of immortal Being,  
Thou only Seer, come, and help our seeing:  
Sweetness itself, yet flowing to each creature,  
Making partakers of thy lovely nature,  
Inflame our minds, now we are come together,  
And with thy breathing, bid us welcome hither;  
That we may see thee in these outward things,  
And elevated with immortal Wings,  
May fly beyond our selfness, and forget  
That arm of Flesh that doth support us yet,  
And come and view thee at a higher Table,  
And feeding on these break may be able  
In thine own language for to talk of thee,  
And in thy noble ways to walk with thee:  
Refresh our spirits with thy living food,  
And with thy wisdom, our eternal good;  
That we thy goodness and thy sweetness may  
Declare in this our everlasting day.   

Friends, now you see your cheer; fall to, I pray,  
And let's be merry; we are servants all  
To mighty Pan; he's able to defray  
Far greater charge, and will, when time doth fall;  
For he hath flocks upon a thousand Hills;  
And on the plains hath Herds of Cattles store;  
His Corn and Wine each Grange and Village fills,  
He's always giving, yet is never poor;  
And at noon times when we are at repast,  
He walks among us kindly in the Hall,  
And bids us eat, and drink, and make no waste;  
Be cheerful, friends, for ye are welcome all.  
We have a day, another day in chase,  
Wherein we'll bid our Neighbours Swayns to bring  
The Lasses of the Plains, who with sweet Grace  
Can play upon the Violet and sing:  
And there's a Damsel I have heard some tell,  
Can play upon the Lute exactly, and can raise  
The mind of all the hearers with a spell  
Which to the soul another soul conveys:  
This I have heard, and I believe in part,  
That Airy notes do steal away the sense,  
And secretly conveys another heart,  
Who in admiring of some excellence,  
Soars up aloft, filled with extreme desire,  
To reach up to the centre still doth hover,  
And fain would close; draws near, and would draw nigher,  
Till with eternity all covered over:  
Forgetting things below, is well content  
To press unto the mark, that mighty prize;  
And swallowed up in life and ravishment,  
Drowned with delight. looks up with fixed eyes  
Unto the Hills, not daring to look down  
Upon the empty pleasures that do bring  
Fears, losses, and amazements leaden Crown,  
Whose best adorning is the Serpent's sting:  
Such Music I have oft desired to hear,  
Though I disdain not for to hear a Song,  
Even of the meanest Swain, if he doth steer  
His course the lowly valleys all along.  
In the mean time I'll drink to honest Sisse,  
To Dorothy and Isabel kind,  
I should be sorry any here to miss;  
And to the Shepherdesses there behind;  
You sit as if you had no skill in love,  
Or if faint-hearted, do digress from kind;  
We shepherd's are disposed for to rove  
With random words sometimes, to show our mind:  
Think not our minds are altogether vain,  
And full of folly, cause we let our tongues  
To speak to you like men; or entertain  
A mind to work your prejudice or wrongs:  
Yet know, that we are men, and love like men;  
We eat, and drink, and sleep, like other creatures;  
For you to love, and we not love again,  
Were altogether to forget our natures:  
We live like men, and we do love our like;  
Like in affection is the strongest tie;  
Who that denies, at nature's Law doth strike;  
For like rejoiceth when his like stands by:  
This is in Pan our noble Master, who  
Is much delighted when he doth behold  
Fair Innocency ranging to and fro  
Amongst the Lambs and Kidling of our fold:  
The greatest Joy he doth and can express,  
Is to behold his flocks and herds to flourish:  
But when he doth behold them in distress,  
He blames the Shepherds, that are slack to nourish  
The tender Lambs committed to their charge,  
Who at their will may lead them where they list,  
But are contented they should run at large,  
Which if they would but whistle with their fist,  
Or if loves echoes were but sometimes heard,  
To pierce the Hills and Valleys where they wander,  
A check of love would make them so afeared,  
'tTwere needless for a dog to be commander:  
And if a Shepherd shall for virtue's cause  
Despise his fellow, then me thinks I see  
A Devil that's incarnate; for his Claws  
And cloven Feet are manifest to me,  
Oh then, my soul, take heed thou come not there,  
Where such ill spirits haunt; for where they dance,  
The circle of their foul enchants appear,  
And of Pan's nature show their ignorance:  
Into their secrets let not my soul come;  
Avaunt, you Gipsies, fickle fortune tellers,  
Go dance the round where you find better room,  
In yonder Meadow with the fairy dwellers,  
Where Screetch-Owls and the dismal Satyrs haunt,  
Inventing mischief foul; malignant spirits,  
Croaking ill luck, like Envies blast, that daunt,  
Where malcontents infernal dales inherits:  
Though we are men, and live and die as men;  
Yet we have thoughts that slay beyond the spheres,  
Transcendent thoughts, that knows both where and when  
To flee away, beyond the common fears,  
When in a hubbub all the world appears,  
And the foundations fail, and mountains tremble,  
As if the Clouds would fall about their ears;  
Our spirits then we presently assemble  
For they have wings to bear us to a place  
Beyond the raging waves, wherewith a song  
Of exultation, misty clouds do chase  
Away those vapours that our sight doth wrong.   Will. 
Stay Brother, stay, you go beyond your bounds;  
You speak to men and women that do carry  
More flesh than spirit; such high things confounds  
The memory of weaklings; let's not vary;  
Speak in our Language, for we understand  
Our mother tongue, with that we travel far;  
Let's not forget that we have flocks at hand,  
And too rich Pasture may our Kidling mar:  
We know thou art and hast been long in love,  
And ere't be long we trust thou shalt obtain  
Thy strong desire, and we do well approve,  
And hope thy longing will not be in vain;  
Thy sweet affections can no way miscarry:  
Thou art but young, take heed, soar not too high;  
But stay with us a while, good honest Harry,  
And in a lower stile thy measures try;  
Come, sing a song, and we will bear a part  
In joy and sorrow, and we will express  
Our best affections; and each loving heart,  
I dare be bold to say, doth think no less.  Harry. 
Then tune your Pipes (sweet friends) and I'll begin,  
And set your strings unto a lowly strain;  
Yea, all of you that in Love's bands have been,  
And bear a part with me, a rural Swain:  
For now I sing of Love, but I want words  
For to express the things my mind affords.  


The Argument of the Song.  
THe longing soul stirs up her holy fires,  
And in a Song sends forth her strong-desires  
To her most dear and best beloved Christ,  
Whose sweet society she long hath miss.   
The Song.  

O Thou the fairest, fair without compare,  
Whose kind embraces passing pleasing are,  
Whose unctions sweet, from head to feet,  
Oredows thy comely parts,  
Eustaming minds, and making joyful hearts;  
And for the sent of odours spent,  
And rare composed smell,  
The fairest Virgins love thee passing well.   

Vouchsafe to cover these black spots of mine;  
With these same white and spotless robes of thine,  
And then though I deformed lie,  
And black; I shall appear  
A comely Virgin in thine eye, and dear.  
Sore sick of love, unapt to move;  
Oh let thy gentle hand  
Reach forth thy comforts, or I cannot stand.   

Oh when wilt thou transport me to that place,  
Where no disturbance shall prevent thy grace;  
Where fill of love oreflowing prove?  
That we may there enjoy,  
In that sweet bed of love, without annoy:  
For when I mind thy kisses kind,  
When first in love we fell,  
That now me thinks thy absence proves a Hell.   

If thou desire to see me yet alive,  
Make haste, and see how I for breath do strive:  
Oh come away, make no delay,  
And sow thy precious seed;  
For nothing else our sweet delight will breed:  
Big swollen with grief, there's no relief  
Can wipe my weep dry:  
Oh come, and give me children else I die.   

For unto me thou art more lovely far,  
Then any beauties to my senses are:  
And wheresoever thy shinings are,  
And thy image I espy,  
Me think it is 〈◊〉 to mine eye:  
 
 
Yea then, even then, would I take part with thee.   

For though, 〈…〉, I have enforced been  
To yield unto that 〈◊〉 betraying sin,  
〈…〉 field from friends exiled  
When, I 〈…〉 alone,  
〈…〉 came none;  
〈…〉 safety most,  
Al●● poor 〈◊〉 I sued  
Strong 〈◊〉 and shares, that hands and jeets do bind.   

If I have 〈…〉 on any wight,  
Or aught 〈…〉 my chief ●●light,  
Siace first that 〈◊〉 did wound my heart,  
That none but thee can ●●re;  
Then in 〈…〉 let me still endure:  
Yea, let me ●e exiled from thee,  
And never see thy face,  
If in my heart thou miss the chiefest place.   

And yet methinks I wish myself no harms,  
Were I in Hell inclused in thine Arms;  
Less 'cause of fear, more comforts there,  
Then in Heavens flying fame;  
For they might pass, but thou art still the same,  
These empty things have flying wings,  
The soaring soul flees higher;  
Thou art the centre of her chief desire.   

For yesternight, when I was half a sleep,  
Me thought I saw thee walking on the deep,  
Whose comely feet, the waves did greet  
With friendly threaten kind;  
Thy steps a deep impression left behind:  
The raging waves, that erst while raves,  
When thou in love dost chide,  
With trembling silence thy rebukes abide.   

If it be thee, Lord, bid me come apace:  
I know 'tis thee, thy words o'erflow with grace;  
Then, sink or swim, I'll go to him,  
A sea of love I see:  
If I be drowned, I care not, I'll to thee.  
Oh 'tis my choice, 'tis David's voice;  
My soul is knit to thine:  
A stranger's voice was never so divine.   

Prove me, my dear, and try if thou canst find  
If my affections be not to thy mind:  
If I withstand, thy sweet command,  
Then let me bear the blame,  
And in thy love put me to public shame:  
Or if 'tis meet, first show the shect  
Where Virgin thoughts did lie,  
And thou shalt see the sign of chastity.    Ralph. 
Dost thou want words, sweet friend? Why now I see  
Thou canst comply as well as any man:  
Dost think equivocation may pass free,  
And be well taken? We thy words can scan:  
Say what thou wilt, we know thee: If thou hid  
Thyself within a Wood, we'll thee descry;  
Though in a Grove of Woods thou wouldst abide,  
Yet we will trace thee in a Sympathy,  
And we can walk with thee within thy cloud,  
Whose Pearl-like dew drops words of sweet desire.  
My genius tells me, sure thou art not proud,  
Although thy humble breathe do aspire  
To speak in lofty words; yet we profess  
Though thou comply, we love thee ne'er the less.  Harry. 
'tis true indeed and I acknowledge it,  
I do comply, and so I think I may;  
And I account it manners, and 'tis fit,  
In friendly terms to grant and to gainsay:  
But he whose friendship is but compliment,  
And only complemental, I count base;  
That course is quite without my element,  
From me such thoughts I quite away do chase:  
I love my friend that is my friend indeed,  
And he shall know my inmost secrecies;  
The choicest Cates on which my soul doth feed,  
That doth support me in my miseries,  
I will not spare, but freely will impart  
The treasure of my soul, and where 'tis hid,  
The wants and the aboundings of my heart,  
My faults for which I have been sound chid;  
My hopes, and fears, my joys and discontents,  
My nakedness, my shame; I will discover  
My vildness, and the joyful ornaments,  
I will not hid from thee, my friend, my lover.  Will. 
Thanks, Harry, we have born our parts with thee,  
But thou hast born the burden of thy Song;  
I would thy soul from anguish were as free  
As I could wish: I trust thou shalt ere long  
Receive thy hearts desire; but stay a while,  
With patience wait; but prithee set no time;  
The Pilgrim's chat doth longsome way beguile,  
And loves transgressions none doth count a crime.  
Only beware of this, do not reveal  
Love's secrets on thy life, as yesterday  
A friend of ours; but stay, I will conceal  
His name, for fear he run the more astray:  
For on a day, and 'tis not long ago,  
I heard him tune an Oaten-pipe so well,  
That if I should account him for a foe,  
And should his folly to the Milkmaids tell,  
He would forget his music, and neglect  
His little flock committed to his charge,  
And with a near conceit of disrespect,  
Despair, the bounds of folly would enlarge.  John. 
No, Brother, stay, be silent for a while,  
We have a rule that's left by noble Pan,  
A principle that hangs upon the file,  
That's legible to read for every man;  
And for memorial stands upon record.  
Let all your things, sweet friends, be done in love;  
You are my friends, and I can well afford:  
My name which all your Shepherds well approve,  
Shall be imposed upon you; My commands  
Are far from being grievous unto those  
Whose sweet affections well inclined stands,  
And I no other burden do impose.  
Love's yoke is easy and the burden light,  
Sweet is the yoke, no bitterness at all,  
No slavish fearful toil that doth affright;  
Therein's no danger for to stand or fall.  Ralph. 
Now we perceive right well the very cause  
Thou lov'st to sit alone upon these Hills,  
Not with intent to nullify the Laws  
And liberty of Shepherds with thy will;  
For all the liberty that we enjoy,  
Consists in this, if Love but once command,  
We are content and willing to obey  
No Shepherd on these Downs will it withstand.  
If any Shepherd's Lad presume to break  
The Law of Love of purpose, and shall tell  
Her secrecies, and shall account them weak  
They such a one will presently expel;  
To their society he shall not come;  
The very Milkmaids will begin to hisse,  
Yea, such a fellow shall not have a crumb  
Of any dainties, no not of a kiss:  
His Curds and Cream that he was wont to have  
At noon times in the Dairey, when the heat  
Of Summer made him kindness for to crave,  
Though much he needed not for to entreat;  
He with the Hinds shall stand and cool his feet,  
Beg for a favour, and receive a flout.  
The poorest Kitchenmaid that he doth meet,  
When time shall serve, will make him stand without.  
And is not he well served, that shall disclose  
The secrets of his friend, to do him harm,  
When his chief trust he doth in him repose,  
With many friendly walkings arm in arm?  
When promises of constant loving hearts,  
Viewing wherein his strength and weakness lies,  
Against the very course of Love imparts  
To friend and foe his inmost secrecies?  
Now, honest William, do not hold us long,  
But prithee tell the subject of this Song.  Will. 
Well, then in sober sadness I will tell  
The subject of his Song, though I may miss  
For to express the words he framed so well;  
But, to my best remembrance, it was this.  

The SONG.  

COme, you sweet affections all  
View the place of Pan 's abiding,  
And you Shepherds great and small,  
Bring your stocks to his residing:  
Shepherdesses of the Plains  
Bring your instruments well stringed;  
You whose Virgin breasts retains  
Darts that flew from Heaven winged.   

Noble hearts, of Heaven's choice,  
Bring your flames of sacred firing;  
You that can express by voice,  
Raptures of divine inspiring;  
Bring your Lutes, and let us hear,  
And we will your measures follow;  
we'll the burden help to hear,  
By the guidance of Apollo.   

Hand in hand, and heart in heart,  
We will tread our pacing measures;  
Like affections none can part,  
Twinning arms, nere-ending pleasures:  
Those whom Heavens hand hath joined,  
Who will dare to put a sunder?  
Can Heavens darlings be unkind?  
That would be a mighty wonder.   

Nature's bounds who can forget?  
'tis Pan 's nature to be loving;  
He the waves their bounds hath set,  
Their presumption still reproving:  
But Pan 's nature overflows  
Lofty Hills, and brings them under;  
In the Sea they stand in Rows  
Mollified and rend in sunder.   

In his name we will rejoice,  
In his nature we will wander;  
Through the deserts are our choice,  
Where compelled by no Commander:  
We can no commands they,  
Though they 〈◊〉 with strong persuading;  
Nature taught as to gainsay  
And 〈◊〉 the wills ineading.   

But methinks There a voice  
From the 〈◊〉 of safe assuring,  
Who in safety do 〈◊〉  
Yet in bonds themselves inuring:  
But another veice rassed by,  
Freely 〈◊〉 in my hearing,  
He, come forth, my Dove, and buy  
Thee to a place of better cheering.   

New the 〈◊〉 Winter's past,  
Ha●, and Snow, and Wether beat,  
〈◊〉 Sol away hath chaste,  
Though with sweet and fair entreatings;  
Shadows 〈◊〉, and get you hence,  
Come ●o more to hurt our seeing;  
To thy nothingness, from whence  
Thou dericest all thy being.   

Now the lovely Spring is come,  
And each Bird in safety singeth,  
Counting every place their home,  
Where their Airy-wings them bringeth.  
Sweet affections they flee high,  
Far above all dying, being,  
Almost to eternity,  
From the hands o● Fowlers freeing.   

Yesternight T●past alone,  
By the light of Luna 's shining,  
Purposely to hear a Song,  
I perceived the friendly twining  
Of the Trees and Bushes kind,  
Who most friendly kissed each other;  
Arm i● Arm their Branches twined,  
Like the child that hugs the mother,   

Passing further by a Dale,  
Full of thoughts and sweet conceivings,  
There I heard a Nightingale,  
Whose sweet mirth was sense bereaving:  
Oh, thought I, if Songs of night  
Be so joyful in our hearing;  
Ravi●ments of greater might  
Will be seen at Sun's appearing;   

Now the gladsome Sun doth rise,  
And the Earth in her best dressing;  
And each Bird doth memorise,  
Pan 's great acts, and might expressing,  
How he hath destroyed quite  
Welves, and Foxes, Bears, and Lions,  
And delivered by his might,  
The distressed Lambs of Zion ' s.   

Now rejoice, thou little Hill,  
Little in thine estimation;  
Thou shalt be beloved still,  
And a Crown of exaltation  
Shall be given unto thee,  
Who art Pan 's delight and pleasure;  
Thou, ab thou, art only she  
Unto whom he brings his treasure.   

All his living Springs abide  
In thy Breast, thou Queen of Nations;  
And from thee they do divide  
Into streams, whose elevations  
Soon descending to the plains,  
Where each Shepherd's Boy resorteth,  
Which their thirsty soul sustains,  
Where our Lambs and Kidling sporteth.   

Yet I heard, not long ago,  
Shrewd reports of Shepherds striving  
For a Well whose springs did flow  
With sweet streams of soul reviving;  
The contention grew so hot,  
Almost unto Daggers drawing;  
But the anger was forget,  
By Pan 's wisdom over-awing.   

We are called by thy name,  
Oh thou mighty Pan, whose dwelling  
Is beyond the common fame,  
All our Shepherds far excelling:  
For from thee they do derive  
All their wisdom how to order,  
And their tender flocks to drive,  
Till they come to Canaan 's border.   

Like an Ointment poured forth,  
Whose sweet scent inflames the senses,  
Or●●n● o●our of great worth,  
Purchased with great expenses;  
Right so precious for to hear,  
Is thy name, and sweetly soundeth;  
And from Hills and Dales do rear  
Echoes that thy fame resoundeth?   

Every Shepherd's Boy that walks  
All along these Downs and Mountains,  
Of his bounty always talks:  
Tother day by yonder Fountains,  
Sat each lovely Shepherdess  
Singing Songs, and Music playing,  
Each one in her Virgins dress,  
With Love's ornaments arraying.    

These were the words, but I will tell you more:  
Upon a day when all alone he sat  
Under a Hill, upon his head he wore  
A kind of Wreath, well wrought, and delicate,  
With dainty Flowers, that well I cannot name;  
As Roses, Violets, Hearts-ease, Columbines,  
The tender Lily, Tulips of great fame,  
Wall-Flowers, and Honey-Suckles, that entwines;  
Sweet-Marjoram, and Sweet-Bryer, Cowslips, Marigolds,  
Primroses, pretty Daisies, Jilly-Flowers,  
The Hollyoak in doubles manifolds,  
And many more, brought in by April showers,  
There wanted nothing but the Lawrell-Bay;  
Me thought it did become the Lad so well,  
That in affection I am bold to say,  
Most Lads upon these Downs he did excel.  
But to be brief, I crept upon all four,  
And secretly, unseen, I came so near him;  
'Twas ten to one I came in such an hour,  
When he began to sing, to overhear him,  
Upon his Pipe he played and sweetly sing:  
I harkened to his tunes with great delight:  
Then in a rage his Pipe away he fling:  
Yet all this while I kept me from his sight.  
All this I speak, that so I might remove  
The prejudice that I perceive remains  
Within your Breasts, the dwelling place of love,  
Who with delight Pan's precepts entertains:  
For we are servants unto noble Pan,  
And have and do observe his nature well,  
His no●le kindness unto every man,  
With love he useth only to compel:  
This is his nature, and it is no shame  
To imitate his nature with desire;  
Not only to be called by his name,  
But to a further nearness to aspire;  
Not only for to love his likeness sweet,  
When with delight we view those gladsome beams;  
But with his nature one another greet,  
And from that nature send forth lovely streams,  
As streams of mercy, and of suffering long,  
Patiented in waiting, seeking every hour  
To win with love, without compulsion strong,  
And without fury hear what others say.  
And now, sweet friends, you that desire to hear  
The matter of his Song, I pray draw near.   

The SONG.  

Come near affections,  
And help with thy directions,  
To sing this Song of love;  
And we together,  
Will take a part of either,  
The same more light will prove:  
For now dismayed I sit, and make my moan,  
And I am fearful  
It will prove direful,  
A burden heavy for to bear alone:  
'twill break my heart, I think, that thou bear none.   

And now I wonder  
To hear some speak like Thunder,  
Love's darlings for to awe,  
And to affright them,  
As if they would indite them,  
And give Love's bounds a Law:  
Love, that so deep and past their ouring wounds:  
But love is boundless,  
Her Law is groundless:  
Love cannot be contained in humane bounds,  
Nor will we yield to them on such small grounds.   

For though we languish,  
And live a while in anguish,  
We know Love shall prevail;  
Love's sweet conceivings  
Are not abortive heave,  
Our minds for to assail:  
No pleasant baits can us allure again:  
For we are carried,  
Our minds are married  
To things above the common reach of men:  
Oh Arm of Flesh, how weak wilt thou he then!  
But yet we wander,  
Unseen of each by-stander,  
In uncouth ways;  
These desert places,  
W●hardly ken the traces  
Of sheep that strays:  
We wander up and down, and pass the springs,  
And see no creature  
Of form and feature,  
That we can love as these despised things;  
And we well know that same hath flying wings.   

But obthe dearest,  
In my affection nearest;  
My heart death sail to tell,  
How I have loved,  
Since first my mind approved  
The virtue that doth dwell  
Within that breast that swells with things divine;  
From whose outflowing,  
These tender growings  
Refresh the sense, as with inspiring Wine,  
And in these rays the deity doth shine.   

I heard one talking,  
As I alone was walking  
On yonder lovely Plain,  
With words of scorning,  
Rich minder, but poor adorning,  
Love's honour for to slain:  
But I will hold it for a point of faith,  
The worst transgressions,  
In Love's expressions,  
The Law of Love, which is as strong as death,  
Commands to hid, as long as there is breath.   

I'll stay and rest me,  
Thy sweetness hath possessed me,  
And I have faith in this;  
Thou wilt not fail me,  
Though long delays may quail me,  
And I much joy may miss:  
The thirsty soul, alas, brooks no delay;  
And time comes flying,  
There's no denying,  
There's no entreats will make him for to stay:  
Bald time farewell, for ever and a day.   

My mind reposes,  
As on a bed of Roses,  
Although sometimes I find  
Some contradiction,  
Which may prove but a fiction  
For to o'ersway my mind:  
But when I overlook those lovely Hills  
With heart uprising,  
And highly prising  
That influence that Hills and Valleys fills,  
Right sweetly than my swaying passion stills.    

Friends, now you see the nobleness of love,  
That consters all things to the better part,  
And is content and willing to remove  
All blocks and rubs that sweet affection thwart;  
Malignant nature, and revengeful spleen  
Sends quite a swimming in the rageful waves  
Of black confusion never to be seen,  
To blast our good intentions with their braves;  
But there's a friend that keeps by yonder Plains,  
That drives his flock so near the Hazlewoods,  
That to my knowledge mighty loss sustains;  
And very lately I have understood  
By some of his acquaintance, not unknown  
To some of us here present, that his loss  
Is extraordinary, that he is grown  
Unto a melancholy humour, and so cross,  
That he will scarce admit society  
With any friends that come in loving sort  
For to advise, but saith they come to spy,  
That so they may his weaknesses report:  
But I dare say, not any one that's here  
Can take delight to view his moody fits,  
But as a matter that concerns them near;  
Abhors the seat where Scorn and Envy sits;  
For we were always better taught I'm sure,  
And see our Master's practice every day:  
A noble precedent he gives for to inure,  
Nature compels our wills for to obey.  
Oh Sacred streams of Heaven's influence  
Divine inspiring, How can we forget  
The spring of thy divine intelligence,  
That every day our barren soil doth wet,  
And makes our coast of desert places spring  
With various sweets, and flowers of the prime?  
Forsaken and despised Valleys sing  
With rich abounding plenty in our clime,  
By the still waters gliding through the Plains;  
Contentedly we sit and spend our hours,  
Wherewith supply of Pastures green sustains,  
And every day refresh with dews and showers  
The heritage of thrice adored Pan,  
Which makes them bring forth twins when they do come  
From Washing: Where the streams of love began,  
The time of love a rich increase sends home.  
But stay a while, I purpose to relate  
The matter of his loss whereof I spoke,  
That so we may his case commiserate,  
And sympathising his, our sorrows make;  
He shall be nameless at this time, lest I  
Should add unto his sorrows; for I swear  
I would not do him the least injury,  
Though I might gain the fleece his flock doth wear:  
But to be brief, our Master set him forth  
With Sheephook in his hand, and with a flock  
Of Kids and Lambs, that were of mighty worth,  
Which after he had led beyond the Rock  
That stands beneath that high aspiring Hill,  
Which you may view with your perspective Glass,  
A mighty Wood the upland grounds doth fill,  
And by that Wood he every day did pass:  
In handsome order for a while he kept  
His pretty Lambs, and fed them with great care;  
But so it was, one afternoon he slept,  
Out comes a Wolf, and too and fro did stare;  
But when he saw no creature to resist  
His hungry madness, he began to catch  
At Kids and Lambs, but by good hap he miss  
The principal, yet other two did snatch,  
And worried them, and killed, and sucked their blood,  
And drew them to the Wood that was so nigh;  
The flock the while without resistance stood  
Amazed, yet did neither bleat nor cry.  
But yet, thus much I dare be bold to say,  
Had he but been awaked, and been ware,  
He would have fought, and made a bloody fray;  
For two or three of them he would not care:  
But so it was, the young man he began  
To rouse himself, and looking all about,  
He saw his flock were fled, and then he ran  
To bring them in again, and made no doubt  
Of any loss, because he saw so many  
That did present themselves unto his view,  
Thought all was well, yet neither there was any  
Appearance; whereupon he fearless grew:  
Well, that passed on, and then it was not long,  
But there befell another loss was worse;  
For on a day when he was gone among  
The western Lads, as 'twas sometimes his course,  
To go a merry making, and to leave  
Hisslock along the Hedge-rows safely feeding,  
At least he thought them safe, nor did conceive  
The least suspect of such like danger breeding:  
When he was gone out of the Wood, there comes  
A fell devouring Beast, a furious Boar,  
His Tusks stood out, and at the mouth he foams,  
And running on, some half a dozen tore;  
And of the Lambs made such a heavy wrack,  
That it was a wonder to behold the spoil,  
How he their flesh did tear, and bones did crack;  
But having filled his paunch, did back recoil.  
The flocks were all dispersed among the Briars,  
Who fled for Shelter to the Thorny Hedge;  
At last runs forth a Bear, and quickly tires,  
And worried half a score, and took their pledge;  
But all this while the Shepherd did forget  
His flock, that in despair ran to and fro;  
But he amongst his boon companions set  
His resolution, yet he would not go.  
Ah silly Lambs, resistless in your harms,  
Wasted and spoiled, yet show no discontent:  
Spoilt of all, yet ne'er assuming arms,  
Can you subsist in this your element?  
Content to live, contented for to die,  
Content in wants, contented to enjoy  
A greater store, content in misery:  
Is this your nature never to be coy?  
Wonder in nature, nature without art,  
Infused nature, far beyond all teaching;  
No creature else this nature can impart;  
'Tis Fox's nature to be still ont-reaching:  
The furious Lion, Lions doth beget,  
And some men say their strength lieth in their eyes;  
What ere he seethe; he's bold thereon to set;  
On noble things he dares to make a prize:  
The raving Wolf hath always Woolvish tricks;  
He hath a voice, and by that voice doth call  
Unto his fellows, which their ears up pricks,  
And other creatures quickly bring in thrall:  
Where Wolveses prevail, no mercy is expected;  
It is their nature, and who ever saw  
Them change their nature, or could be corrected,  
To bring them in subjection to a law?  
The Bear begets his like, the she doth bring  
Forth a rude lump that's quite without a form;  
She licks it over till a formal thing  
Appears in sight, then furiously doth storm;  
If any one presume to touch her young,  
And rob her of her whelps she loves most dearly,  
Shall quickly know she'll put up no such wrong;  
she'll follow to the quick, and touch them nearly.  
Boars beget Boars, and Swine have filthy natures,  
And have their sustenance from filthy things;  
And of their like they do produce more creatures,  
No Beast but that, so many young ones brings:  
Washed ne'er so clear, they'll wallow in the mire;  
Drink till th' y'r drunk, and sometimes burst withal:  
When Horses drink, they'll modestly retire;  
No other creature we may Swinish call.  
But this digression helps not my intent;  
The Shepherd he looks out, and sees his flock,  
Some lost, some spoiled, some torn, and deadly rent;  
Then presently he ran into the Rock,  
With an intent to cast himself away,  
Down to the depth, almost as low as Hell:  
But so it fell, the Rock did prove his stay,  
And in amaze upon the Rock he fell;  
And lying in despair, half on, half over,  
At last came to himself, and looked about him,  
And sees the Rook, and doth the deep discover,  
All danger sees, within him and without him,  
Lists up his eyes unto the bending Hills,  
Half dead and lost, ashamed of his hope,  
His former vain and spacious hopes distils,  
And brings their spirits to a narrow scope.  
Ah, whither shall I flee, for to escape  
The hand of Pan my master; if I fall  
Down to the deep, there I may see his shape;  
Were I in Holl I'd hearken to his call.  
Ah, I have often heard his lovely voice,  
How he persuades with sweetness every day;  
Leaves all men free, and puts them to their choice,  
To yield him free obedience, or gainsay:  
He ne'er provokes to anger any one,  
Nor doth discourage those he entertains  
Into his service: Those that will be gon●,  
And will not serve, they the most loss sustains.  
And after many sad complaints were spent,  
He was resolved to return to Pan;  
But I believe, right sure, the ●ad was shent,  
For t'other day, I met him pale and wan;  
And then because I saw him discontented,  
I sung this Song, that I before invented.   

The SONG.  

WEll met my friend, me thinks I long to hear,  
How it hath fared with thee, this many a year;  
Why art thou strange to him, that is thy friend,  
And turned about with every blast of wind?   

Me thinks thou look'st with sorrow in thy face;  
And I would joy, if that might purchase grace:  
But if thy grief from outward objects spring,  
Then 'tis my woe, to hear so harsh a thing.   

For there's no cure to ease thee of thy pain,  
No outward Pillars can thy soul sustain;  
Thy soul's divine, and 'tis no common hand  
That can support thee in this foreign Land.   

Return, return, and lay these words to heart,  
Let not self love oversway thy noble part:  
What wouldst thou have, or what canst thou require?  
With humble words subscribe thy hearts desire.   

Is there no soul to sympathise with thine?  
Why in thy breast dost thou thy grief confine,  
Quite from thy friends, as if they were thine own,  
And none but thine, unfit for to be known?   

Know, thou hast friends, and they are friends indeed,  
That's pressed to help, at every time of need,  
That stands unmoved, though storms of grief arise,  
And as their own accounts thy miseries.   

'Tis not a blast of misconceived wrong,  
Nor evil nature of a venomed tongue;  
Malignant words, nor sly deln ling charms,  
Cannot unloose their friendly twining arms.   

Huge floods of Water cannot quench this fire;  
Showers of contentious strive may conspire,  
But over past revivings, are soon seen;  
Rainbows appear that's blue, that's red, and green:   

A sacred sign that Heaven's rage is past,  
He takes no pleasure, for to spoil and w●st:  
Despairing soul look up, the sky is clear,  
The floods are past, the Olive boughs appear.   

Art thou a stranger only on our coast,  
And dost not know of that which men talk most?  
Dost thou not know, the soul must pass the fire,  
And then attain the end of her desire?   

The Husbandman that sows his precious seed,  
With patiented waiting is full well agreed  
To stay his time, and sleeps, and wakes, and sees  
His crop comes for ward daily by degrees.   

Fair Innocence desires not to be hid;  
The crafty mind is fearful to be chid  
No cloak of zeal for covering she doth strive;  
Fair Innocence on every ground will thrive.   

No barren soil seems barren in her eye.  
That which most seers carclesly cast by.  
Unfruitful fields, with Briers overgrowe:  
In her esteem are firtest to be sown.   

Things quite despised in the world's esteem;  
Things l●sse then nothing to the Senses seem:  
But that men see, they see with their own eyes;  
But Heaven discerns their foolish fallacies.   

And shall we think our waiting overlong,  
And that Heaven's hand ore-sways things to our wrong  
Oh, no dear soul, thou shalt ere long receive  
Refresh sweet; let vapours take their leave.   

Dost thou not know that Fortune's fickle wheel,  
With foolish favours to and fro doth reel:  
Bears some aloft on wings of flying fame,  
And on a trice their glory turns to shame?   

Even so it is with every thing below,  
That's underneath the Sun's fair shining show;  
His piercing rays gives light to every plant;  
But growing low, their vigour quickly want.   

The S sends forth its spreading flower,  
Whilst lovely Sun displays his quickening power;  
But having run his circuit to the West,  
Their Curtains close, and sadly take their rest.   

The sweetest flowers in May, and joyful June,  
When every Bird chants forth some pretty tune:  
I think 'tis pity such sweet flowers should die,  
And pretty Birds should cease their melody.   

When I perseive the gladsome spring come on,  
And chilling cold of Winter blasts are gone;  
And Earth is clothed in her best array,  
As if intending to keep Holiday:   

Oh than I look, and weigh with heavy cheer,  
What changes come to pass within a year:  
In little time the flowery fields grow grey;  
When grey turns white, expect not long to stay.   

Cease pretty Birds, forgo your sugared notes;  
The pleasant Hills and Valleys change their coats;  
The dainty flowers gained with great expense,  
Are stinking ripe, and foully mar the sense.   

The fairest beauty ever mortal saw,  
Who like the Loadstone, humane eyes doth draw;  
When living breath doth cease, she is laid by,  
And is no more an object to the eye.   

Ah dying glory, now I see thy face;  
The time, the persons, and the lovely place:  
I see, I see thou livest amongst the graves,  
And times best champions are but golden slaves.   

As little rivulets run from every Spring,  
And to the River all their treasure bring;  
Then all in one, runs freely to the main,  
And from the Ocean ne'er returns again.   

The mother Earth is ready to embrace,  
And entertainment gives to all her race:  
She hugs her children sweetly in her Arms,  
With mutual kisses, fearless of all harms.    Tom. 
Well far thy heart, my friend, and friend to all,  
And foe to none, me thinks I do admire  
This charity that comes at every call,  
And from distressed friends didst ne'er retire.  
Thou art so like our noble master, who  
With patience bears, and waits for our return;  
And in our wand'ring, wheresoever go,  
And almost lost; is sad when we do mourn.  
And now I wonder thou canst imitate  
So well our master's goodness, and art changed  
Into his likeness: Thou that wast of late  
Quite from the ways of Pan almost estranged▪  
Now I persuade myself, thy flock and thee  
Have kept so long upon these flowery plains,  
That thou some vision manifest didst see,  
Such lovely light (me thinks) thy breast retains:  
And thus I thought, there's something in the wind,  
That makes the Lad thus lovely in our sight:  
His intercourse with Pan; for when I mind  
Things past and gone, yet living in the light;  
And when I call to mind the near relation  
He hath to us, and we to one another,  
It brings me to a higher contemplation;  
Nor will, ●or dare, nor can we such things smother:  
So far am I from being envious  
To see thy flock to prosper in thy keeping,  
That I rejoice thy flock increaseth thus:  
And I oft think of thee awake, and sleeping;  
Yea, in my dreams, me thinks, sometimes I see  
Our master Pan and thee converse together;  
And then me thought these words he spoke to thee,  
Go fetch thy flock, and bring them up all hither,  
And let me see those Lambs of my desire;  
For I am pleased well to see thy care;  
I see thy heart's upright, and love entire,  
And I consider what thy watch are;  
I weigh thy pains, and how thou break'st thy sleep,  
To keep thy flocks in frosty winter nights,  
And in the heat of summer thou dost keep  
Them from the wicked vermin that affrights;  
Yea. I have often heard thy Songs of night,  
When I passed by the Sheepcoats undiscerned;  
In such like breathe, I take great delight,  
And to my joy thou hast contentment learned:  
Thou art contented, if it Hail or Snow;  
For any weather thou art well provided,  
And clothed with content, what wind ereblow;  
Content and thee are seldom times divided.  
In blustering storms and tempests, flashing fire,  
Of thunder, and of lightning, I have known  
Thee sit and sing; then for a while retire,  
Until the storm be past, and overblown.  
This was my dream, and when I did awake,  
My thoughts were then the same, and so are still,  
And would a greater matter undertake,  
Then I will speak of, that I may fulfil  
My former promise, when with hand in hand,  
And heart in heart, we passed along the Hills,  
We thought we had the Mountains at command,  
And could remove them quite against their will:  
But when we saw our weakness, we began  
For to be think how far we were unable  
To undertake what never any man  
But Pan himself, that's only imitable:  
Bold resolutions then again we made,  
When we went to descry what pastures lay,  
Where we found Giants ready to invade,  
And kept our Southern Shepherds at a bay;  
They stopped the passages, where we were wont  
To lead our flocks to water, and the Well  
Was anciently in every man's account  
To be our masters; and the old men tell,  
They have Records to show it was a gift,  
Of Pan's donation many years ago;  
And albeit, they make a dogged shift,  
To keep them from it, where they will or no;  
Yet we do purpose ere't be long to try  
A title with them, and to make them show  
By what authority they do deny  
Our flocks their Water, and our Grass do mow:  
But let us cease our chat a little while,  
And sing a Song our time for to beguile.  

The SONG.  

I Wonder most,  
That some do boast  
Of their great roast,  
Yet still are lank and lean;  
●is lean as rakes,  
Souls food forsakes.  
And pleasures takes  
Amongst the beasts unclean,  
Who wanting wings to fly so buy,  
The eagle's food cannot espy.   

Some toy● and sweat,  
And t●● Ayr doth beat,  
To ge●● 〈◊〉 meat;  
Th● 〈…〉 have some feeding:  
 
〈…〉 her fair,  
She ●●st repair  
〈…〉 former breeding.  
Po●r soul thou want'st the Eagie cye,  
The Lamb like nature to espy.   

The Dove like eye,  
Rate chastity,  
Doth ●a●●awry,  
If ●●c h●r ma●e be missing:  
And there's no wight  
●●ees in her sight,  
Can work delight,  
She br●●ks not others kissing.  
P●r so●d thou canst not rest espy,  
B●●ause thou want'st the Dove like eye.   

Then come and see  
All you that be  
Or bond or free:  
Ho, cery soul that flies,  
And a●n would rest  
Within that breast  
Where souls are blest,  
And to your being bies.  
The thirsty soul brooks no delay;  
You that have wings make haste away.   

Come noble hearts.  
That act your parts  
With roy all dart,  
And ●●afts of deadly wound:  
Ride on and high,  
Victoriously;  
Let Arrows fly,  
Unto your foes confounding.  
As long as they do breathing lie,  
Ply them with darts of Amity.   

Come David play  
A roundelay;  
Thy music may  
These furious fiends send packing;  
And for love's sake,  
A circle make,  
And save our stake,  
For we of love are lacking;  
For wicked Saul is hard to please,  
Thy music only can give case.   

I have a friend  
That stays behind,  
Sticks in my mind;  
I pity his mistaking:  
He is so blind,  
He cannot find  
The Lamb like kind;  
But with the Wolves partaking.  
Our Sheep and Lambs he doth detest,  
And loves the Woolvish nature best.   

Come hither Grace,  
Stay here a space,  
And view the face  
Of yonder Bride preparing:  
Her noble dress  
She doth express  
In humbleness,  
And meekness for her wearing.  
Sweet soul, such ornament, indeed,  
Is fittest for thy marriage weed.   

The souls desires,  
Vncooling fires.  
Short breath aspires;  
Ah, who can case her long.  
Thy husband he,  
That loveth thee,  
Will set thee free  
From other lover's wronging.  
The bed of love that's kept unseen  
With Curtains drawn, is fresh and green.   

Hence evil eye  
That com'st to spy  
Our 〈…〉  
Our 〈…〉 do not touch.  
〈…〉 not near,  
〈…〉 fear,  
,  
〈…〉 grudge:  
〈…〉 ●sares that transcend  
B●yon thy thoughts that never end.   

Here's lovely seed,  
That's sown indeed,  
In souls agreed,  
Partaking of that nature:  
And thence doth spring  
That noble thing  
That light doth bring,  
The firstborn of each creature.  
Then Faith and Hope are glad to spy,  
Their sister dear, fair Charity.    Harry. 
Your charity I love and do commend,  
And in my mind you do a great deal better;  
And oft I think 'tis better to offend  
In over-giving, then to be a debtor.  Ned. 
It is your bounty, yet I pray you know,  
Fair Charity hath eyes, and can discern;  
She is not blind, nor hoodwinked goes, I trow,  
To judge of colours is not far to learn;  
She can distinguish colours when she sees,  
Or white, or black, or green, or blue, or yellow;  
Knows well that light and darkness disagrees,  
And good to evil will not be a fellow.  
To say, that white is black, or black is white;  
Or for to say, that darkness doth excel,  
And shall esteem it far above the light,  
I dare be bold to say, He sees not well:  
For when I see a man reel to and fro,  
And make Indentures in the King's highway,  
That is a drunkard, and I think him so;  
To speak what I do see, I think I may:  
Such revell-rout was kept a month ago,  
Amongst the Northern Lads that met together,  
That staggering ripe they passed one by one,  
Well lined they thought to keep away the weather;  
As blind as beetles and I heard some say,  
That one of them that's sick, will scarce recover;  
That domineered and swore his wits away,  
In a dry ditch, as he was passing over,  
Fell down and slept till morning, when the Sun  
Began to rise; and when he saw 'twas day,  
Looked out to find his bottle, which had run,  
And that beyond the bridge, quite empty lay;  
And when he saw his bottle, he was glad,  
And began to poise it, being dry as dust;  
But having found its lightness, grew so sad,  
That to the River for to drink he must,  
A cooler fittest for such roaring Boys,  
Such boisterous fellows, that can never tell  
When 'tis sufficient, but good things destroys;  
'Twere a good riddance, such were packed to hell.  
The world's so full of swearers and blasphemers,  
Of knaves and rascals, cheaters and deceivers,  
Of busybodies, and vain foolish dreamers,  
Bloodsuckers, and oppressing life-bereavers,  
That I do wonder Heaven can forbear,  
To rain down slames, and tempests of consuming  
Upon such wretches, as do daily dare  
With a high hand Heaven's vengeance with presuming.  Harry. 
I will not wish that any friend of mine  
Should be too forward for to censure those  
Whom they may think are faulty, or repine,  
And others failings to the world disclose:  
Failings, said I? our master is content  
To pass by more than failings in us all;  
Gross evils daring, bold, and impudent,  
With patience bears offenders great and small;  
Knows men are men, and whilst we are but men,  
Men of the earth, whose minds are full of folly,  
Winks at small faults; out ru●s us now and then,  
Yet knows our hearts are vain and much unholy:  
Our days of ignorance, and unknowing times,  
Doth pass by him in silence unregarded;  
Our want of skill esteemeth not as crimes,  
Nor sends a servant going unrewarded:  
But now 'tis time, sigh we have seen so long  
His going forth and coming in, before us;  
How day by day he comes our flocks among,  
And in our wants is willing for to store us:  
'Tis good to mark his ways, his lovely ways,  
His comely steps, when he is passing by;  
And being passed, mark but his lovely rays  
Is left behind, discerned with half an eye:  
Yea, wheresoever we go, or run, or ride,  
We may discern his footsteps every where:  
Trace all the Hills, and Dales, and Valleys wide,  
And who can lay, His footsteps are not here?  
In low despised Valleys, I have seen  
His lovely steps, and pacing he did go,  
Where to my thinking he had never beeh,  
Where weatherbeaten Reeds shaken to and fro:  
And when I saw his footsteps, I was glad,  
Thought I, Our Lord and Master is not far:  
I that before, oppressed in mind, and sad,  
He came upon me ere I was ware,  
And in amaze, I looked, and beheld him,  
'Twixt joy and fear; but love was most prevailing:  
And when he saw my love, it so compelled him  
To stay with me a while, for all my failing;  
He thus began to say, What dost thou here?  
What dost thou here, my friend, and servant, whom  
I have betrusted with a flock right dear?  
Why dost thou thus far from thy Kidling come?  
I gave thee Kids and Lambs, and bid thee stay  
By yonder Downs, the fittest place for feeding:  
Now tell me why thou'rt gone so far away,  
And to my order gavest not better heeding?  
My answer was at hand, and not to seek,  
For Love compelled me for to answer mildly;  
For there was cause enough I should be meek,  
'Cause my behaviour had been sometimes wildly.  
I answered thus, Sweet Sir be not offended,  
I came to seek two Lambs that went astray,  
When yesterday I purposed, and intended  
To bring them to the fold in cool of day:  
But having told my Lambs, and missing twain,  
I left the other feeding for a while,  
Making no question, but with little pain,  
To find them quickly near to yonder stile  
I passed along beneath the seven Hills,  
Something enquiring of my fellow wayns,  
If they had seen my Lambs to pass the Rills,  
That run along the Valleys in the Plains:  
And they made answer they have lost their own,  
And more than two, or three, or half a dozen  
Were strayed away from them, and they were shown  
A skin or two, by some that meant to cousin:  
We saw them not, the Wolf perhaps hath catcht them;  
For all these coasts are pestered every where  
With raving Wolveses and Foxes, which do watch them,  
And put us daily in a trembling fear.  
Well, I was answered, yet I would not leave,  
But sought them still, where I observed thy treading  
In every Valley, and I did conceive,  
And it was my mind to trace thee in thy leading:  
And now I am come hither to this Dale,  
Oregrown with Flags, and Sedge, and bruised Reeds,  
And weeping ripe I wander in this Vale:  
And now I spy my Lambs.—.  Ned. 
Now cease thy speech (sweet friend) I know thy mind,  
Thy sweet rebukes I am content to bear;  
Sure thou hast learned of Pan for to be kind,  
Now for my sake (good heart) this Favour wear:  
Take it, and wear it, and remember me,  
It is a token of my love to thee.  Phil. 
D'ye hear my friend, Me thinks it is a shame  
You should neglect your flocks, and stand contending;  
Such trivial talk much deserveth blame,  
Your vain discourse, me thinks, should have some ending;  
Do you not see the Sun doth now begin  
For to decline unto the West, Southwest?  
Is this the way our Master's love to win?  
Or can you think this is your place of rest?  
And do you think you shall even now enjoy  
An everlasting day here in these Bowers?  
How are your thoughts dispersed at every toy?  
I trust they are not fled beyond your powers,  
But that you may recall and bring them home  
To things of more importance, then bare words,  
For fear of after-claps, let us not room,  
This mighty field more fit discourse affords,  
Then dreams, and songs, and music, words of course,  
Such frothy fancies, precious hours spending;  
And albeit, some spend their hours worse,  
In bitter railing, and in vain contending;  
Yet we must know our Master gave us leave,  
For to make merry for a while; but when  
We overrun our time, we may conceive  
He will deny us when we ask again.  
My sentence is, Sure you have drunk too much,  
For you begin to talk of Talents, and  
Of high conceivings; few had ever such.  
I see your wits doth in a stagger stand;  
I see your Nectar do begin to fail,  
You'll want supply I doubt within this hour;  
Your windy words will hardly bear up sail,  
Your sweet discourse I fear will end with sour:  
Words are but wind, and you may tell us stories,  
And sing us songs of Shepherd's boys a playing,  
Of Milkmaids, and the Shepherdess' glories,  
Your folly and simplicity bewraying:  
It ill beseems your gravity to spend  
Your precious time in toys not worth the hearing;  
D'ye think our noble Master will commend  
This vain expense to every one's appearing?  Harry. 
If this be vildness Phil, I'll yet declare  
My vildness more, and will be yet more humble.  
I tell thee Phil, I neither fear nor care,  
Though in the dust my glory fall and tumble:  
I say, My glory, and what ere I call  
Mine, or what cometh from my foolish nature;  
My glorious outsides I disclaim them all,  
And now my longing is for the—  
All that is mine, my words, my deeds, my skill,  
My understanding, riches and my wealth,  
My love, my joy, and envy, and my will,  
My strength, my feeble comforts, and my health:  
If I have aimed to purchase a good name,  
Honour or good repute, I here disclaim it;  
I would not be beholding unto fame,  
To blaze my praise, nor once presume to name it.  
All that is mine, my books of curious arts,  
My best esteem, my glory, and my crown,  
And whatsoever my Gipsie-minde imparts  
To me or mine, lo here I lay them down;  
Judge them that can or will, to fires flame,  
Then cast their ashes in the Northern wind,  
And let them sly to my eternal shame,  
And to the lowest region be confined;  
Or let them lie amongst those black records,  
Even where the rabble of confused things  
Doth make a mighty Library of words,  
Where lying fame, a foolish requiem sings:  
For I have heard a noise but I confess;  
I have been bend to yield to more than reason,  
When empty things great matters do express;  
But I had rather hear a word in season:  
We have reprovers plenty now adays,  
And every Shepherd's boy will be a teacher:  
The mind of man is still affecting praise,  
And minding victory, is an out-reacher.  
Knowledge abounds, they say, and 'tis their glory  
That they can argue stoutly, pro and con,  
And can declare, or else they would be sorry,  
How we should guide our flocks, and bring them on,  
Sometimes upon the Plains, in heat of day;  
Sometimes unto the Hills, in moister weather;  
And oftentimes their elders will gainsay;  
But their own flocks neglecting altogether;  
And that's the folly of our Southern Lads,  
That are so hot, and eager set for fame;  
And up and down these Pastures daily gads,  
And can their looks and words, so finely frame,  
That they presume they're able to direct  
The oldest Shepherds ranging on these downs;  
Quicksighted to espy the least neglect:  
Experienced fathers they set down for clowns,  
As if they were the only Seers, who  
Are able to discern a storm come flying;  
And in their own imagination grow  
Mighty, all dangers to each one descrying,  
When they perhaps, where ere they came ne'er saw  
Our noble Master Pan in any place,  
Nor yet his shape, whose sweet aspect doth draw  
Like unto like, his lovely steps to trace;  
For had they ever been with Pan, and seen  
His comely steps, and walking to and fro  
Among these little Hills and Meadows green,  
And in the Valleys, where he oft doth go:  
Had they but marked and well observed his words  
And gracious speeches dropping like the dew;  
Can they but read the Letters in Records,  
Not writ in stone, but flesh that's bleeding new,  
That never can be razed out again  
With all the skill of Hell's poor weak intrusion:  
For those that run apace, may read it plain,  
And never can be broken to confusion:  
Can they but mark his low humility,  
How he contentedly doth condescend  
Unto the lowest Swain that passeth by,  
And Innocency all ways doth defend,  
And hath an ear as ready for to hear,  
The faltering tongue, unready to declare  
His out ward wrong, or inward cause of fear;  
And can discern how great his pressures are:  
And now I wonder much, that any man  
That doth frequent these Downs with observation,  
Should be so vain and ignorant of Pan,  
And bear a mind so full of ostentation.  
Stoop lofty minds, and learn to imitate  
The mind of Pan our Master, whose forbearing  
Is wonderful for to commiserate,  
Much moved to pity, not enured to daring:  
He kills not with his looks, and furious eye;  
The eye of love, not envy, is his kill;  
He knows our strength, and weakness can descry,  
Takes notice of perverseness and good willing;  
He needs not any one to bring him news  
Of what is done amongst the herds and flocks;  
His watchful eye discerns, and overviews,  
And he their inmost passages unlocks,  
And unawares he comes amongst our folds,  
Sometimes unseen, without our notice taking,  
And now and then, with sweet discourse he holds  
Matter enough to keep our senses waking:  
But there's some Lads upon the Eastern dales,  
That scorn the plain simplicity of Pan,  
Using his words, as poor despised tales,  
As on a time with vapouring one began  
To teach our ancient Shepherds, who full long  
Have kept their stocks in order and good plight,  
And have conversed with noble Pan among,  
The most experienced Shepherds with delight;  
And all the Lads that will not yield to lead  
Their flocks along the way, that they would have them,  
They do reprove with scorn, and words of dread,  
And tell them plain, 'Tis not their Pipes will save them;  
Them, and their flocks must perish every one,  
For Disk, and Tom, and Will, and Ralph, and Harry,  
Who with their flocks to West, Southwest have gone;  
They dare be bold to say, They'll all miscarry:  
But noble Shepherds, let me ask you when  
You spoke with Pan our Master: Did he tell  
That you, and none but you, the only men,  
Must bear his name, and like wise bear the Bell?  
Well, if you'll have it, take it, if you may;  
Yet know our Master bears not such a spirit:  
And for his goodness, I'll be bold to say  
Our Master Pan will no man disinherit:  
Is he your Master? is he not as well  
The Master of us all? if we obey him,  
He's well contented we should stay and dwell  
within his house; I trust you'll not gainsay him.  
Is wisdom yours? and will you thus confine  
Her piercing rays within your narrow bounds?  
Can you withhold her sparkling beams to shine  
Upon these outcast, low, despised grounds?  
Now I perceive rightwell, were't in your powers,  
You would exclude these watery marish places,  
And shut them quite beyond these walks of ours,  
Without discerning of the Shepherd's traces:  
As if our Master did abominate,  
Or with an eye of scorn did overlook  
The watery Plains, and inconsiderate,  
To the aspiring Hills himself betook.  john. 
Now I perceive, and I will tell thee plain  
What I conceived of thee full long ago,  
That thy too humble flagging wing would stain  
The Shepherd's glory, and I find it so.  
A Shepherd and a Soldier must be stout,  
Undaunted courage should the mind possess:  
Heroick daring boldness brings about  
Brave erterprises, this thou wilt confess.  
Where is the glory and the brave renown  
You might achieve? d'ye think to purchase fame?  
Can you expect to get the wreathed Crown  
By such poor things that some will scorn to name?  
Read the Records, and see if thou canst find  
Amongst the Shepherd's glories, any one  
Ere purchased honour with so poor a mind;  
Faith if thou canst indeed, then I'll have done:  
I'll say no more, go on, and ride apace  
The silly Ass will bear through thick and thin:  
If by humility thou purchase grace,  
Let brazen gates flee  and let thee in;  
Let every Shepherd's Boy take up his Pipe,  
And play and sing in this thy happy hour;  
Let Shepherdesses when the Palms are ripe  
Bring boughs and sweets to strew within thy bower;  
Yea, we will make the very pavements tell:  
And to declare the stories of our love,  
Those overtrodden places where we dwell  
Shall be engraved so firm, that none shall move:  
If paved with love the groundwork do appear,  
How glorious then shall our adonrings be?  
Love's noble buildings will be far more clear,  
Transparent brightness we in all shall see,  
Composed of love the groundwork and the frame,  
Inside and outside so compact together,  
No Dart of envy can impair the same:  
Eternity outshines decaying weather.  Will. 
Ned, fill a cup of Nectar, and let's drink  
A health to Phil. in way of thankfulness,  
And we'll no more of thy unkindness think,  
Nor take revenge, although thou didst transgress:  
Yet pray thee have a care, transgress no more,  
Nor evil no man if thou canst forbear;  
For many evils make a mighty score,  
Two evils bound together we may fear.  
Now blest be Pan, that taught us for to know  
What is in Man, and how he is inclined,  
How mighty in himself he still would grow,  
And always strong in his good thinking mind.  
Shall I do well when I perhaps may see  
A Madman throwing firebrands, and stamp and swear,  
'Cause he is mad, go kill him, for to free  
Myself from dangers, where no dangers are?  
Or if I see a drunkard reeling ripe  
(Though not with Wine) should throw him in a ditch  
And drown him quite, sure 'twould my conscience gripe:  
And I should think some Fury did bewitch  
My feeble mind. I'd rather shun the Ass  
That kicks he cares not what, nor where nor whom,  
I'll blame the Rider's madness made him pass  
Beyond his warrant; he's the veriest Mome.  
Come, drink a Round, and each one bare his knee,  
And after we have drunk, we'll sing a Song.  Ralph. 
We are content and willingly agree:  
But pray thee William do not hold us long.  

The SONG.  

DRaw not near,  
Unless it may appear  
you are bend  
With intent  
To lay down  
The honour of your wreathed Crown;   

And nakedly be seen.  
He that comes  
To gather up the crumbs  
That do fall  
In that Hall  
Where the Feast  
And many a welcome guest  
Beyond themselves have been:  
'Twill certainly be known,  
If you bring aught your own,  
Love doth scorn  
Upon the wings of any to be born:  
No treasure bring,  
Nor any mighty thing,  
Her love to gain;  
For wealth she holds in high disdain.  
Then strive no more,  
Strive no more:  
Stand by despair,  
Thou canst not fly  
Nor yet come nigh  
Unto that Mansion fair.  
You spirits that attend  
Upon the souls that send  
Up their sighs  
And their cries  
From the deep;  
And in your bottles keep  
The tears of weeping eyes:  
In charity affright  
These wanderers in the night,  
That do haunt  
And enchant  
For their ends,  
Disguised like some Fairy Fiends,  
And in their Circles rise:  
Oh chase those Fiends away  
That spoil our Lambs each day;  
Bring to light  
These crafty Gipsies manifest indite;  
Make their graves  
In everlasting waves,  
And let your cries  
Add blasting to their memories:  
Let Love's fire,  
Sacred ire,  
Consume their piles;  
And Heavens blast  
Their ashes cast  
To unrecalled Exiles.    Harry. 
You said my Brother William was shamefaced,  
But now I see you are deceived quite,  
And we all see his company hath graced  
Us every one; his sweetness doth invite  
To honour him with what respect we may:  
Let's bid the Shepherdesses bring their Flowers,  
And when we meet on the next Holiday,  
Some shall make Garlands, and some strew the Bowers;  
Then in the midst of all the Shepherds, we  
Will lift him up above his fellow-Swains,  
And set him in a place that all may see  
That Wreath of Fame that better things contains;  
For he is worthy, and we will express  
Our love to him, for he is kind to all,  
And there's no Shepherd's Lad but will confess  
More than I'll speak: but whatsoe'er befall,  
Before't be long we'll find a time to meet,  
And spend a day amongst our Western Boys,  
Then with a fit or two of mirth we'll greet,  
And feed their fancies with some pleasing noise:  
But let's be very wary I advise,  
Touch not their Gods so high in their esteeming;  
Nor in a thought their Deities despise,  
But honour them in silence, and in seeming;  
For we well know you are not much to learn,  
That they have mighty Holds to which they fly  
In their distress, which we that can discern,  
May see their feeble strength with half an eye.  
But fellow Shepherds hearken, and I'll tell  
A pretty story of some Western Blades  
That went a roving by the Fairies Well,  
Who lay a sleeping by the Fancies shades,  
And run upon them ere they were ware:  
But one that was more watchful than the rest,  
Began to rouse with more than common care,  
Gave the Alarm which Gipsy Fortune blest,  
And with undaunted courage began to speak,  
With Qui va la? in English, Who goes there?  
Who answered thus, A Friend, though poor and weak,  
That came from far, and goes he cares not where.  
Then come to us, said he, and we will dance  
A Round or two; for we desire to deal  
With such, and with no other, if perchance  
We find such friends as can our minds conceal,  
Then call your Crew, said he, and bring your Cates,  
For we intent to taste of what we find;  
Do not forget but bring your female Mates,  
For 'tis reported you and they are kind.  
He had no sooner spoke, but up he called  
A pretty Crew of nimble footed Spirits,  
Who with a Circle hand in hand Impaled  
Them in the midst; then with their choice delights  
Presented them; and they were well content  
To be confined with pleasing violence,  
Still giving heed unto their merriment:  
A Damsel then with modest impudence  
Stepped up, and she began to play and sing,  
With raptures of transcending pleasing Strains;  
Some fragments of her Song I here do bring,  
Which with delight my memory retains.  

The SONG.  

Come you whose minds are free,  
And can with us agree  
To walk along with we;  
Vn●armed shall you be;  
And hand in hand we'll dance a round  
In any place where we find ground.   

No place we find amiss,  
But can enjoy our bliss,  
And can as freely kiss  
Heaven's hand where ere it is;  
For every where where ere we go,  
We find a friend, and none's a foe.   

When stormy Winter's blasts,  
And darksome Clouds orecasts,  
We have a day that lasts,  
Whose brightness never wastes:  
Let rain, or shine, or hail, or snow,  
Our shelter we full well do know.   

Come bring your nimble feet,  
And let's the Measures greet,  
Hard measure will prove sweet,  
And we dare boldly meet:  
The raging Lion we can tame,  
And make him hang his tail with shame.   

No Tiger, Wolf, nor Bear,  
That doth destroy and tear,  
Can us possess with fear,  
Though we their raging hear:  
Their roar vanish in the air,  
Th'arr feeble things to work despair.   

We travel far and wide,  
We are to no place tide,  
Where ere we do abide,  
We care not if men chide:  
For harmless we do pass along,  
And do no living creature wrong.   

If we have list to eat,  
We take no care for meat,  
No creature we entreat,  
No labour makes us sweat;  
We in abundance are content,  
And are well pleased when store is spent.   

The place whereon we rest,  
We always think it best,  
Our minds are so possessed,  
Repine we detest.  
●n every place and every thing,  
We can behold contentment spring.   

Then if we stand or fall,  
Our danger is but small,  
Our beings all in all,  
This we our refuge call:  
Then sink, or swim, or live, or die,  
We pass our days contentedly.   

We pass along unseen,  
o'er Hills and Meadows green  
No creature yet hath been,  
To view our honoured Queen:  
But if they come to gaze and spy,  
We strike them blind, and lead them by.   

We wish no creature ill,  
Nor mean to learn the skill,  
To poison or to kill,  
Nor never had a will  
To learn the art of cutting throats,  
For we have learned better notes.   

Fair Innocency rare  
Is the best  we wear,  
We take no further care,  
Though we seem poor and bare:  
So long as we go void of blame,  
Though we go naked 'tis no shame.    

So having danced, and sung, and played a while,  
The hearer's spirits being lifted up,  
The music ceased; then with a pleasing smile  
She with some Nectar filled an Acorn cup,  
And drank a Round to every one apart,  
And then began a pause, but 'twas but short,  
Till pleasing slumber overwhelmed each heart,  
Then with strong sleep each one began to snort.  
And now 'tis past my skill for to relate  
How long they slept; but this I dare be bold,  
When they awaked their sweets were out of date,  
And they were in their dumps as I was told;  
There mirth was gone, the Fairies they were fled,  
The lovely Crew were vanished out of sight,  
Then all-amort no more with fancy fed,  
Can not contain themselves but wept outright.   Tom. 
But 'tis reported of some standers by,  
That marked and viewed the passages of things,  
That some of them of purpose came to try,  
When in the midst of all their revel,  
If they could steal away their Gods; but see  
How they were served, for by the law of like,  
The Gods that in their own esteem were free,  
And none durst touch, much less presume to strike,  
In their presumption ran so far astray,  
That they did lose themselves thus in a maze;  
It is no marvel they have lost their way,  
When every fancy makes them stand and gaze:  
For it is writ, and I remember well  
The words, I'm sure they were not writ in vain,  
The Gods with whom my lovely people dwell,  
In any case revile not with disdain.  Ralph. 
But Tom, me thinks they did but hardly deal,  
That they presumed their Gods away to steal;  
For when all's lost, and men their loss bewail,  
With threatening speech to ask them what they ail.  Tom. 
To steal away their Gods? now cease thy chat,  
Peace Ralph, and take advisement ere thou speak;  
Be not too nimble, for I'll tell thee what,  
That's a hard task, and men I know are weak;  
'Tis not the hand of man can steal away  
A God adored living in the mind:  
Or true or false, a Deity bears sway,  
Affording help to each one in a kind;  
But 'tis the Finger of a Higher hand,  
Who with a touch can bring away the soul,  
And make it better Objects understand,  
And past the power of humans to control.  Ned. 
Their Gods; what Gods? Is there a God beside  
The Shepherd's God? and are they Gods indeed?  
Some wooden Gods I trow, whose painted pride  
Near stirs to help a Shepherd in his need,  
Who hath no eyes to see when danger's near,  
Nor ears to hear our sad complaints and groans,  
Nor hands to help to ease us of our fear,  
Nor hearts moved to remorse with all our moans;  
No tongues to speak divinely, or direct  
The Shepherds of the Valleys how to keep  
Their flocks in comely order, and select  
The lovely Lambs quite from the scabbed Sheep;  
No feet to walk, that we may imitate  
Their lovely steps in freedom and delight;  
No living motion that might elevate,  
But lumpish Melancholy that affrights.  Ralph. 
But Ned, I pray thee speak no longer now  
Of these uplandish Gods, for fear they blast us,  
If I can choose, I'll not come near I vow,  
For why? some Planets have great power to waste us:  
Let's leave that subject; now I call to mind,  
Upon a time when thee and I went forth,  
And drove our flocks together, seeming kind,  
With savoury words which showed of much worth;  
We wandered up and down from place to place,  
Up mighty Hills, then all along the Dales,  
Much time we spent; then for a little space  
We sat us down and told some merry tales:  
But mark the mischief, I that had good store,  
And plenty in my Bag, and Bottle full,  
Some evil Beast had found, and Scrip had tore,  
And up and down the Hedge-rows did them pull;  
And see thy kindness, thou hadst plenty still,  
And I in want and hungry hunger bites,  
Then thou wentest by as one that had no skill  
Nor knowledge of our loving Masters rites,  
Thou hadst forgot I think how he doth set  
Himself for an example, and doth bid  
Us learn of him, what hindrance, or let,  
His ways of imitation are not hid.  
My household servants, and my Shepherds who  
I put in trust with all my flocks, have learned  
For to be kind to all, both friend and foe,  
And by that sign the difference is discerned,  
If they have learned of others, or of me:  
If they have learned of me, they will be kind  
To one another, all things shall be free:  
Their very hearts are open to their friend:  
Hath he two Coats, and see his friend go bare?  
Naked and destitute, of clothing cold;  
His fairest russet garment he'll not spare,  
Wert better then his best a thousand fold.  
And he that hath provision in his Scrip.  
And will deny a Shepherd in his need,  
And in contempt, begin to hang the lip,  
And of his plenty will not let him feed:  
Let him be banished quite beyond the Plains,  
And be confined within some narrow bounds,  
Until such time that he a sense retains,  
And so doth feel a Shepherd's wants and wounds.  
For I have travelled far, and never knew,  
Nor never heard of any Shepherd yet,  
That ever came where love of kindness grew,  
That could, or did, those noble Plants forget.  Ralph. 
But Brother Will, reports do go of thee,  
And it is known to some that's here among us,  
That thy expressions have been far more free  
With some Companions; prithee do not wrong us.  
Why shouldst thou hid from us thy loveliest strains?  
Thy Song of Sorrow, prithee come and sing it,  
I know thy breast diviner things contains;  
Thy Harp hangs by, I wonder thou'lt not string it;  
For t'other day, as I was passing by,  
I heard thee sing; but though I crafty were,  
Thou didst perceive my craft, when I did lie  
Behind a Bush, thy lovely strains to hear.  
Make us partakers of thy mirth and moans,  
We are thy friends, thy welfare is our joy;  
Wilt thou relate thy sorrows to the stones  
That have no ears, nor wit for to be coy?  
We know thy nature, we can sympathize  
With thee, although thou fall as low as Hell;  
And in the lowest Region memorise,  
Light in the depth of darkness with a Spell;  
Out of the Flint we can produce a fire,  
And water too, for to refresh the sense;  
If from thyself thou should●st a while retire,  
We have a Spell will bring thee back from thence:  
And 'tis in vain for thee to stand aloof,  
For we will bring thee forward with a witness;  
And though I think thy breast is envy proof,  
Thy humble station shows thy noble fitness.  Will. 
And there's reports, and some reports are true,  
That thou hast store of Pictures, pray thee tell;  
I am thy friend, and I have very few,  
Yet I have learned and can distinguish well;  
Yea, I have skill in Physiognomy,  
And by thy looks I can perceive thy heart;  
Show me thy Palm, I'll read thy destiny,  
If not in full, yet I'll be bold in part.  Tom. 
Art thou a Fortune-teller, Brother Will?  
I pray thee tell my fortune if thou can,  
For I have heard thou hast got pretty skill  
In Palmistry; I honour such a man.  Will. 
Fortune doth favour Fools, wise men are poor,  
The poor are humble, humble fears no frowns;  
Proud sturdy Beggars beg from door to door;  
Fierce hunger cares nor fears to break stonewalls:  
Stonewalls are strong, and yet they are but stones  
Compact of slime, unsensible of sense,  
They cannot cry if one should break their bones,  
Nor humane Charms produce one tears expense:  
I see thy heart now at thy finger's ends,  
And I perceive a Pearl stands in thy eye;  
Thy hands are full of crosses, that portends  
Thou must be beaten to humility.  
And thou lov'st Pictures well, then hear me speak;  
I care not for thy coin, if thou hadst more;  
Thou thinkest thou'rt strong, but I perceive thee weak;  
Hadst thou Pan's Picture, thou wouldst ne'er be poor.  
Show me thy foot, or give me but the length,  
Or show the Circle where thy foot did stand,  
I dare be bold I'll show where lies thy strength,  
And name the Planet that doth countermand:  
If any one should shoot an Arrow here  
Amongst us all, I dare be bold to tell  
From whence it came, if once the shaft appear:  
Let me but handle it, and view it well,  
If I don't tell if it be Jonathans',  
Or other shafts that came from Esau's Bow,  
Or from the private arm of any man's,  
I'll pawn my credit I will plainly show:  
Yea, I can tell if he that shot the same  
Had ever been with David in the Plain:  
For mingled souls will manifest the flame  
Of pure affections, always in the main.  
And thou lov'st Women too too well I hear;  
A woman is thy Master, thus it was told  
Among the Shepherds lately; and I fear  
IT will prove a certain blemish; for I hold  
A woman should be silent, and submit,  
And not presume to teach, that should be learning:  
Discretion is content to stay at home, and sit  
To hear her Husband's words of more concerning.  
What should a woman know, but for to learn  
To know her Husband from another man?  
That knowledge is sufficient to discern,  
This depth of understanding pray thee skan.  Harry. 
But now in sober-sadnesse, Brother Will,  
Let's lay by jesting; tell me thy conceiving:  
What dost thou think of our uplandish Phil?  
And speak thy mind, all by-respects out leaving:  
Thy hidden language I well understand,  
I know thou speak●st more languages than one,  
Thy speech bewrays thou'st matter at command.  
I know thou walkest not on these Downs alone,  
I know what company thou dost frequent;  
Him whom thou lovest is our chief delight;  
Then love him still, it is not my intent  
To seek for to deprive thee of thy right:  
We are not jealous, for 'tis our desire,  
That every Shepherd that doth trace these Hills,  
In conversation would draw something nigher;  
I dare be bold 'twould much augment their skills.  Will. 

Thy servant Brother; and it is my joy,  
To be employed by thee in any thing:  
If thou command, thou shalt not find me coy  
In any service might contentment bring  
To thee or thine: do thou but speak the word,  
I'll show my readiness to give content:  
If I deny, than put it on Record,  
If thou don't find me more than compliment;  
Tres humble service in the low'st degree  
I will perform, nothing shall come amiss,  
Such vildness is no bondage unto me;  
For 'tis my joy the feet of love to kiss.  
And I abhor his folly, that doth utter  
Words of despite against our growing friends,  
For to my grief sometimes I've heard him mutter  
Words which did seem to work his private ends;  
Though like an Angel he sometimes hath seemed  
To me, and to my friends; and in my soul  
I honoured him, and mightily esteemed  
His words as Oracles, without control:  
But when I heard him utter words of scorn  
'Gainst better than himself, I blessed me than,  
And sometimes crossed myself as one forlorn;  
And speaking in myself, I thus began.   

Oh All in all, if thou beest All in all,  
Where is thy glory? wilt thou take delight  
To blast the fame of our increasings small?  
And with thy splendour dost thou use to fright  
The poor, despised, weatherbeaten Crew,  
That at thy feet lie gasping now for breath?  
'Tis nothing but thy breathing can renew;  
Life, without thee, in my account, is death:  
Wilt thou take part with them that do disclaim  
Thy nature, and thy name? 'tis far from we  
For to approve of such, whose only aim  
Is to advance themselves, not minding thee:  
Canst thou take part with them that do despise  
Thy silly wand'ring flock, that strays for feeding?  
Canst thou delight in them that do devise  
A way to nourish Wolves, and Foxes breeding?  
Let Wolves take part with Wolves, let Foxes lie  
In wait for to deceive, their nature showing.  
Sheep will be Sheep, let foolish Envy try  
If they can make them change with overcrowing.  
And if I perish, let me perish, Lord,  
With thy despised ones, that bear about  
Thine honourable marks, and can afford  
To bear the scorn of the Rabble-rout.  
When I say rabble, Lord, I do not mean  
Cobblers and Tinkers; for they are to me  
Better than silken Doctors spruce and clean,  
That never heard, nor never learned of thee:  
But Rhetorician railers that can prate,  
As much of thee, as any man alive;  
Yet in their inmost thoughts abominate,  
And at thy being secretly contrive:  
Yea, those I mean, that will as soon take part  
With scorners and despisers, as with those  
That fear thy name, and can deride by Art;  
And upright hearted most of all oppose.   Tom. 
Art thou a Roundhead, Will? me thinks thou speak'●  
As if thou lov'dst the cause; I pray thee tell:  
But be thou sure of this, the bread thou break'st  
Shall be set on thy Table, ill or well.  Will. 
If by the name of Roundhead, thou dost mean  
The humble minded; then I am content  
To sit amongst those Beasts thou countest unclean:  
And I shall think my time more nobly spent,  
Then If I sat amongst the painted crew  
Of party-colours, that those daughters were,  
Whose offspring from the Prince of darkness grew:  
Such foolish brats that Edom's daughters bear;  
Who, though they be such daughters that can change  
To every colour, green, and Maiden-blush,  
And daily with the country daughters range,  
And marry with a Ring made of a Rush;  
Yet I had rather glean among the sheaves  
With Moabitish Ruth, then fill my   
With straw and stubble, or Egyptian leaves,  
Or of their harvest gather in the tithe.  
That name I know was given in despite  
Of Christian minds, and those that did protest  
Against th'opposers of the lovely light;  
Who both good life and doctrine do detest:  
And in that sense, I glory for to bear  
The name of Roundhead, though I will confess,  
I much unworthy to myself appear,  
To undergo reproach, or more, or less:  
And 'tis my shame I am not gone so far  
As to despise the shame, my glory's small;  
Yet I will glory, and I will not mar  
My joy in this light, darkness for to call:  
I will not, nor I dare not for my life  
Against Professors speak, be what they will;  
With the upright minded I will cease from strife,  
That walk with God in any way that's still.  
But those that do disturb the common good  
With factious clamours, far be it from me  
To think them wise, or godly; I ne'er stood  
To plead their cause, from that I will be free:  
And if I err in what I speak or write,  
'Tis out of charity, and 'tis my love:  
Oh let me perish if I work despite  
Unto the voice of the poor Turtle Dove.  
And now, O Lord, confound and lay full low,  
The vain imaginations of the man,  
That doth despise thy people; let him know  
That he hath spoken proudly now and than.  
Me thinks there is in me a sweet respect,  
That in my soul I give to every wight;  
Yea, every soul, I say, not every Sect,  
In whom I see a spark of lovely light:  
Let him be Spaniard, Turk, or Indian black,  
So that he be no Infidel, denying  
The principles of Nature; nor doth lack  
Humanity, to manage his complying:  
When I see Justice, and sweet Mercy kind,  
With rich embrace, kissing one another  
In any one; me thinks, if I were blind,  
Yet I might well discern him for my brother.  
But oh, when cruel Justice stands alone,  
To cut down all offenders, then think I,  
This is the Devil's picture graved in stone,  
That scorns a Mediators sympathy.  Tom. 
But Will, thou wast relating tother day  
What loss our friend sustained, he that dwells  
Upon the Eastern plains; for I heard say,  
He all the Shepherds of the West excels  
In wisdom, and in wealth: for from the East  
Promotion comes; the Star that guides the soul  
Was there first seen; those Orient Pearls are best,  
Whose sparkling rays black darkness doth control.  Will. 
I tell thee Tom, the man was mighty rich,  
And full of goods, his Barns well filled with grain;  
His Oxen strong to labour, few had such,  
And daily wealth came in with little pain.  
But on a time it fell, the rascal rout,  
The worst of all the people, made a prize  
Of his substance; how came it about?  
For to relate I am not yet so wise:  
We marked the passages, and discontent,  
That we expected daily to ensue,  
In expectation of some sad event  
Or desperation shortly would accrue:  
Bu● oh, I am not able to express  
The sweetness of his carriage; For instead  
Of foul despair, he took with joyfulness,  
The spoiling of those goods where Vipers bred.  Tom. 
The spoiling of his goods, that's no great thing;  
Dost thou not know as yet, there is in man  
A kind of self-conceitedness doth spring  
Afresh in him, cre since his fall began?  
Dost thou not know, that man affecting fame  
Will venture life and limb that he may live  
In humane hearts; and in his mind doth frame  
Models of mighty Mountains, to arrive?  
Even at the highest pitch of happiness; for why,  
Men are so animated by their Priests,  
They presently attain eternity,  
Whose acclamations prove but Had-I-wists.  Will. 
Be patiented Tom: let moderation guide  
Both thee and I: dost in thy conscience think  
That thou dost well, this speaking, to deride  
The zealous hearted? it shall never sink  
Into my breast, that he that is content  
To leave his life, his liberty, and being,  
And is content, to live in banishment,  
Quite from the means of any mortal seeing,  
In zeal to God, on purpose to obey  
His Maker's will; me thinks that man doth see  
Beyond himself: What felf-nesse canst thou say  
Remaines, but may with charity agree?  
I'll tell thee what even I myself have known:  
Some friends of mine whose plenty did excel,  
And had they stayed in England, might have grown  
Rich, and in plenty might have lived full well.  
But mark their zeal, they quite forsook their means,  
For to enjoy the freedom of their minds,  
The staff on which the worldly minded leans,  
Although in that none satisfaction finds:  
And lived by Pease, at morning, noon, and night,  
Better contented in that poor condition  
Than they were wont; and found more sweet delight  
In that hard fare, then in their full fruition:  
Me thinks I cannot entertain a thought  
Of prejudice against such real think;  
For I have weighed those Arguments some brought  
To prove them simple no-things; others winkings  
And silence gave consent: This was my thought,  
I tell thee what I thought, my thoughts are mine;  
And in so saying yet I have not sought  
To make thee think amiss of thoughts Divine.  
All zealous burning hearts that talk with God,  
And are inflamed with his lovely being,  
And are contented to endure the rod  
Of his chastizements for their further freeing,  
I willingly will bear; and I will bear  
Their contradictions too, and their revile,  
And it shall be my glory for to rear  
A monument to all; myself exiling:  
I will not care what men do think of me;  
Praists I value much-what like the wind,  
I am content Fame's trumpet should blow free;  
I hope it shall not much disturb my mind  
Though some speak evil, yet they cannot tell  
So much as I can of myself relate.  
I know more evil by a mighty deal,  
Even by myself, than all the world can prate:  
But let them prate, I take no other care,  
I'll fight with them in love, come if they dare.  Ned. 
Well answered Will: Me thinks thy words do favour  
As thou hadst been with Joshua, sure thou hast;  
'tis my rejoicing thou hast found that favour,  
Me thinks thy words well relish in my taste;  
For 'tis my joy where ere I come to hear  
Men speak with good affection, 'tis a grace  
That seldom in our Gownsmen do appear,  
Whose want of wisdom over-clouds the face:  
For lovely wisdom makes the face to shine,  
And secretly infuseth in the minds  
Of the beholders that which doth entwine,  
And with inthralling violence it binds,  
And makes the soul to say with strong desiring,  
When it beholds the glory to express,  
Such fervent love, with lowly breath aspiring,  
Oh, that I were like thee in lowliness:  
Oh, that I could, even in the dust lie down,  
Me thinks that low condition is the best,  
Then I should quite forget a mortals frown,  
Then with the Worms, sure I should find some rest;  
For there's a glory sure amongst the Worms.  
Companions in the dust, whose intercourse  
With one another in preventing storms,  
And low condition never fears divorce:  
For t'other day, as I was passing by,  
In yonder lowly Valley, there I saw  
Our Master's picture to the life, whose eye  
Did every eye in that large Valley draw:  
Three thousand souls at once, as I suppose,  
Of purpose came to view, and every one;  
Yea, I dare say, that every one of those  
Said in his heart, He looks on me alone;  
And so said all that stood, or far, or near,  
Or either side, or just before the place,  
The fixed eye to each one did appear,  
As if it were set our Veins to outface:  
Look you on that, it looked on you likewise,  
And so said all, It looks on me, and me:  
And in each heart from thence forth did arise  
More noble thoughts then all the world can see.  Ralph. 
Will, there's a friend would very fain come in,  
And see our Master Jesus, but I fear  
He's over-lofty minded to begin  
To stoop so low, and curious too I hear.  Will. 
Wouldst thou see Jesus, friend? thou art not able  
For to behold him in humility,  
Thy countenance doth render thee unstable;  
For every Shepherd saith thou comest to spy:  
Couldst thou but view him in his lowliness,  
Sitting amongst the children of delight,  
And speaking in their language, thou'dst confess  
Thou never didst behold a better sight:  
Thou art too mighty friend in my conceiving,  
Thy countenance doth give thou art too rich,  
Thy speech betrays, thou hast a heart deceiving;  
For too much learning doth thy soul bewitch:  
Thou canst not stoop so low, it is my fear,  
For thou growest stiff with age, gray-hairs grow on:  
Old in the evil nature who can bear?  
A burden to thy friends to think upon,  
Age in extremes frozen in thy words:  
Words without life, a life without consent:  
Rugged unto thy friends, upon Records:  
All love sometimes in way of compliment.  Ralph. 
But Brother Ned thy countenance doth give,  
And I with pity, view thee now and than:  
Sometimes me thinks the life that thou dost live  
Cannot be called life; for when I scan  
Thy visage, and thy looks, how pale thy cheeks,  
Thy gloating eyes, thy pendant hairy brow,  
Thy griming teeth that scanty covering seeks,  
Shows that lip-labour thou dost best allow.  
Love from teeth outward, such as thou hast learned  
Among the Western Shepherds hidebound crew,  
That love, but in the tongue that's soon discerned,  
A hollow voice a hollow heart doth show.  Will. 
The humble soul discerns the voice right well  
Of her beloved; half a word from him  
Is better than ten thousand tales some tell,  
From brainsick minds, that in their puddle swim;  
For she doth know the voice of him that speaks  
Out of th'abundance of Librarious treasure,  
And she hath eyes to see the hands that breaks  
Souls food, and gives it by weight and measure;  
For t'other day when two or three of us  
Were sadly walking to the Eastern Plains;  
Discoursing (pro & con) it chanced thus,  
Even in the midst of our condoling veins,  
A noble Shepherd passing on the way,  
And hearing our discourse, drew near, and went  
A long with us, and none of us could say  
What man he was, nor what was his intent;  
But albeit, our journey was not great;  
Our feet were faint, our eyesight that was dim,  
Our hearts did burn, and pine for want of meat,  
Yet well content to go along with him:  
But to be brief, we came unto the place  
Where we intended for to stay all night;  
Then we persuaded him in any case,  
To stay with us until the morning light.  
Well, than he stared, and when we sat at meat,  
Our spirits well-nigh spent, he took the bread  
And blessed it, and broke, and gave to eat,  
Which after we had tasted, and had fed,  
Our spirits wererevived; our foolish eyes  
That had been held on poor decaying things,  
Far better objects wishly now diseries,  
And glorious things to our remembrance brings:  
And then we know full well it was the voice  
Of our Beloved, once set down for lost,  
Our hope almost ashamed of our choice,  
And on the waves of strong temptations tossed:  
But never man that ever spoke with tongue,  
Spoke like this man; for he broke bread indeed,  
No giddifying Darnell bread, to wrong  
The eaters brain; 'twas made of holy seed.  John. 
Speak like a Christian Ned, me thinks thy driving  
Is over furious: Why dost drive foe fast?  
A gentle softly pace is best for thriving:  
We have a Proverb too, Much haste makes waste.  
Provoking urging words, doth ill become  
The servants of that household whereof we  
Are glad to be partakers; though there's some  
Disdain a servant in that howl to be:  
But he that is content to sit and hear,  
And is content to learn the simple plainness  
Wherein the Shepherd's glory doth appear,  
And are content to lay aside their vainness,  
Shall view another nature with delight;  
Yea, such a glory fixed by wisdoms shining,  
To animate spectators with their sight,  
To come and see with hearts in hearts intwining;  
For albeit we do disdain to bear  
The name of cowards for we will resist,  
And will the Wolveses and Foxlike nature tear,  
And will not stand on terms of had I witted:  
Yet we have learned of our Master that  
Which ne'er will be forgotten, and can do  
That which our Southern Shepherds make much chat,  
And though they talk, are loath to undergo;  
To recompense to man evil deeds  
For evil do, if a Shepherd rail,  
Use him with kind respect; such noble seeds  
Will certainly find rooting, seldom fail:  
Nor can a Shepherd that hath gone so far,  
And hath attained this degree in learning,  
For every small and trivial matter jar,  
And fight with those that are of less discerning,  
As if they lived by fight, and would make  
A trade of wars; and those that shall persuade them  
To leave that course of life, they always take  
For foreign enemies that would invade them:  
As for example, twenty days ago,  
When half a dozen Shepherds in their walkings,  
And meditations walking to and fro;  
When in the midst of their sincerest talk,  
There passed by three Captains of the West,  
That lived by fight. We, as we were taught,  
Saluted them with (vobis pax) that's best;  
And they replied, Your words must pass for nought:  
You Rogues, quoth they, our live is by war,  
And do you wish us peace, for to undo us?  
D'ye wish for that, which our contents would mar?  
A worse condition cannot come unto us.  
But give me leave to speak a word or two  
Of my conceiving, now it comes to mind,  
'tis possible for one to fain to do  
Such glotious things, that humane eyes will blind:  
Dost thou not see how skilful some are grown,  
To play the Christians on the worldly stage?  
What glorious outsides to the world are shown,  
By some that are a great deal under age?  
Have we not seen a Woolvish nature wear  
A Sheepskin for his covering, closely hiding  
His ears, and teeth, that's always bend to tear;  
Yet with the Sheep and Lamb, are always siding?  
Dost thou not know, my friend, me thinks 'tis plain,  
That humane creatures are for imitation?  
And he that spoke it, did not speak in vain;  
Neither in manner, nor in limitation,  
Do as you see me do: You see my do  
Is for your imitation, follow me,  
Observe the steps I take, and all my go,  
For I can walk on raging waves you see.  
Come learn of me, my friends, and I will teach you  
The way of thriving, you that would be rich,  
No cunning crafty dealer shall outreach you,  
No School-play Engines can the mind bewitch;  
But you that follow, and would learn indeed,  
Be well advised, leave yourselves behind,  
Of such great luggage there is now no need,  
For you must be content with what you find:  
But, oh my friends, look for no better fare  
Than I your Captain. We shall meet with those  
With venomed tongues, and brazen face will dare  
For to affront, and venture to oppose,  
Through many turn, and through wind strange,  
Even through the deeps I pass, and so must you;  
Yea, you must wait as I did for your change:  
No other way I can, nor will allow;  
The way is mine, the eye of flesh is blind,  
Her prudent ones by seeking for the door;  
Their eyes are held, alas, they cannot find,  
No entrance there, because they are not poor.  
Thou art too great to enter in this way,  
Too rich, and full, thou hast no need of me;  
The glorious Arm of flesh is all thy stay;  
These with thy understanding best agree:  
Couldst thou but be content to go along  
Into the horrid death, and be content  
The mortified souls to sit among,  
Accounting that thy chiefest element;  
And couldst thou be content to stay with me  
The time appointed in that darksome night,  
Until the daystar do arise to thee,  
And give good heed my Word, to follow right,  
And be content to speak it from thy heart,  
Lord, I will follow thee where ere thou goest,  
Nor death, nor hell, shall my affection's part,  
I will not leave thee when thou art at lowest:  
Let airy birds flee to their foolish nests,  
Let crafty foxes run to holes for hiding;  
But our affections flies, and never rests,  
And cannot find a place for our abiding,  
Until it find thee for to pitch upon.  
Thou art the body, Eagles they have wings,  
To flee from foolish shadows, and be gone:  
They cannot rest on these decaying things,  
They see, they see, for Eagles they have eyes;  
They see another nature is preparing,  
Quite through the vapours of contentments flies,  
And will not stay to see these pleasures sharing.  Ralph. 
But Tom, I know thy skill hath greatly failed  
In laying spirits; yet I know thy skill  
Is great in raising spirits, that prevailed,  
And raised a storm that overturned a mill:  
And I remember well, thou showd'st thy art,  
To lay the spirit with thy conjuration;  
But yet the devil did so play his part,  
In black confusion, that by Wills relation,  
It blew down arms of Trees, and one great Oak,  
That by relation stood three hundred years:  
Till thou wast forced deeply to invoke  
Our Master's aid with grievous bitter tears:  
At last our Master came, and chid the wind,  
And hushed the storm, that presently obeyed,  
The evil spirit he in chains did bind,  
IT was well for thee thou got'st such speedy aid.  
And I remember what our Master spoke,  
Rebuking thee for thy presumption bold;  
And many a tear I wasted for thy sake,  
For I perceived right well, thy heart grew cold:  
Wouldst thou presume to meddle with that Book  
Of which I gave thee charge full long ago  
No not to touch, much less therein to look?  
Now thou mayst see thy strength that fails thee so;  
Now thou mayst see how weak thou art indeed,  
Had I not come in quickly to thy aid,  
Hearing thee cry, but loath to see thee bleed;  
And with my wisdom and my skill soon laid  
That evil spirit, sure thou hadst been torn  
In little pieces less than nothing; and  
Each little piece a monument of scorn  
To every evil eye in view might stand.  John. 
Thou art too cruel Ned in my conceiving,  
For t'other night I in my meditation,  
I thought on thee, and of thy harsh bereaving  
The little Bird of her sweet generation:  
Thou takest away the Nest, and Birds, and all,  
Thou took'st away the Dam, that few would do;  
Me thinks it seemed to me unnatural,  
And thou some penalty must undergo;  
Me thinks it were sufficient for to take  
The little Birds, and let the Dam go free,  
And not to act the devil's part, to make  
The soul a prey unto thy cruelty.  Will. 
You worst of men, lay down your Shepherds Crooks,  
The Ensigns of your honour, come resign them,  
Retire a while, and live among the Rooks,  
And in your circles study to confine them:  
Go prattle with the daws, for we have seen  
Enough to make us loathe you, and your coats;  
'Tis not your country Grey will make us ween  
You simple-honest, you must change your notes:  
Our Master's servants now begin to learn  
To know, and can distinguish words and words;  
But words are wind, they're able to discern  
What solid substance frothy words affords.  
Now you may sit, and talk, and tell us tales,  
What other Shepherds said, and what they did:  
But what do you who answers to your calls,  
For underneath your coats there's rapine hid:  
Now you may pawn your Sheep-hooks if you will,  
And throw away your Pipes, or if you please,  
Make music to the Woolves, for they have skill  
To dance after your Piping for their ease.  
You tell us of your pains, and watch often,  
When we are in our folds securely sleeping,  
And with such rubs as these, you work, and soften,  
Our sheepish nature of your care in keeping:  
If you take care, are you not well rewarded?  
Are you not clothed with the finest Wool?  
Though you forget your flock, none more regarded,  
And though they pine, you have your bellies full;  
And yet you say, It fares with us poor hearts,  
Even as with Carrier's Horses, who must bear,  
And do expect no pity for our parts,  
Till underneath the weight we sinking are.  Ned. 
What art thou angry John? dost thou do well,  
For to express thy passion in this sort?  
I prithee be advised, for I can tell,  
'Tis good for to be cautious of report;  
For some reports be false, though some be true,  
And some will out of envy utter forth  
Their very spleenish nature, and there's few  
Attain to moderation of much worth.  
When I pass by a Shepherd that doth wear  
An honest russet-coat, I do comply,  
And do him fitting reverence, for I swear,  
With any reason I cannot deny,  
To give him good respect, at least in show,  
That wears the coat of gravity; though he  
Wears underneath his hood a brazen brow,  
And is not what he should, or aught to be;  
For order's sake, I show him good respect:  
For thus I think, he's good, or should be so,  
He's foreman of a flock that should direct,  
His Master's sheep the steps that they should go;  
But 'tis thy zeal, I cannot blame thee much;  
And yet our Master saith, Lay down your Arms,  
Put up your Swords, I have no need of such,  
I have no thought to work you humane harms,  
I am for peace, I have no mind to fight,  
My Shepherds must not strive, my sheep are quiet,  
There's nothing in their nature to affright,  
Their wantonness did ne'er intent to riot:  
Perhaps the Lambs will run at barley break,  
And wantonly will frisk it on the Downs,  
For to express their joyfulness: But speak,  
If you ere saw a sheep use killing frowns;  
Perhaps they'll break the Hedges for to find  
Out better pasture, sometimes spoil the corn,  
And yet not well contented in their mind,  
Wander in desert places, till forlorn:  
But let that pass, let's learn for to forgive,  
And to forget unkindness, and let's press  
Unto a further pitch, till we arrive  
Even at the lowest cell of humbleness;  
And there let's sit and sing under that shade,  
Where Envy cannot peep to mar our pleasures,  
The arbour that of old our Master made,  
And therein takes delight to lay his treasures.  Will. 
Ah Brother Ned, hast thou no better learnt,  
Then thus to reverence foolish painted clothes?  
Thine eye I'm sure hath better things discerned,  
I dare be bold, such things thy judgement loathes.  
A Cobbler is a Christian, wilt thou look  
Upon his servile clothes with high disdain?  
That's not God's eye I'm sure, and who can brook,  
Ah, who can bear this base indignity!  
Christ did not with his Rabbi Doctors sit,  
So much to hear them, as for to oppose  
Their vanity, and their great want of wit,  
With an intent his treasure to disclose:  
Where is the Scribe, the crafty scribbling Scribe,  
The World's disputer, rhetorician railer,  
Boasting their great descent of Levies Tribe,  
And in the Arm of flesh is aprevailer?  
Leave offering to this Idol, now my friends,  
Must we be always children, always learning  
Of them that Preach themselves for their base ends,  
For bread and cheese, and pocket up their earnings?  
But now because my word, perhaps may fright thee,  
I'll sing a Song a little to delight thee.  

The Song.  

You that mindless  
Of unkindnesle,  
Sat and sing away your hours,  
In the Season  
When fair Reason  
Sits amongst the lovely flowers,  
Where Birds singing,  
Music bringing  
To the Arbour of delight,  
With such fitness,  
With a witness,  
Our Hobgoblins doth affright.   

Nature's cheering,  
Voices clearing,  
Come and help us bear a part.  
Ease our longing  
Of Arts wronging.  
Nature far surpasseth Art.  
Nature's springing  
Helps our singing,  
Give us natures wings to fly,  
That will cheer us,  
And 'twill bear us  
Almost to eternity.   

View the paving  
Where no waving  
Nor shadow of a change;  
No appearing  
Of base fearing  
Can on the Meadows range.  
View these building,  
And the guilding,  
And the noble Wreaths of Fame:  
View the stories  
And the glories,  
Of Loves never dying name.   

Mark the Traces  
And the Graces,  
Mark the shoes the soul doth wear:  
Sweet affections,  
Rare perfections,  
In her steps there doth appear.  
Mark the talk  
And the walkings  
Of the lovely soul divine:  
To the Centre  
At adventure  
She wholly doth incline.   

Where espying  
In her flying  
Far above the common Spheres,  
Lovely beings,  
Glorious seings,  
Which the longing soul uprears:  
Who aspiring  
With desiring,  
Both in nature and in name.  
Though estranged,  
Would be changed,  
For to be the very same.    

If I should use plain terms, and call thee thief,  
I think I should not wrong thee; for I think  
Thou hast deceived the gods, and to be brief,  
Without equivocation, by this drink  
I'll speak my mind; thus I conceive of thee,  
That thou hast got admittance to the place  
Where thou Heaven's flames of sweet content didst see,  
And being sped of such a noble grace,  
Stole from the Altar in the heat of day,  
Fire in thy Vessel, and in Embers hid it:  
And now 'tis manifest thou dost assay,  
To blaze it as thine own, but we have spied it.   Will. 
Now where's your charity? I see you shoot  
At random now: If Jonathan were here,  
I dare be bold I'd know him by his foot;  
His Shafts of love would fly beyond us there;  
But now I see th●art married to thy mind:  
Thy Freedom is but Bondage: I could wish  
That thou wouldst never marry; for I find  
In troubled waters thou delight'st to fish.  
Ah Will! 'tis well with thee, that sit'st among  
Thy fellow-Shepherds, playing in the shade,  
Whilst we are pestered with a fearful throng  
Of men of Mars that all our Coasts invade,  
That spoil our mirth, and hinder all our joys,  
Our scattered flocks amazing with their noise.  
Come, we are friends, let's lay by discontent,  
And let us sing.—  

The SONG.  

AS of late  
In Babylon we sat,  
By the waves  
Whose stout braves  
Were enraged,  
As if they had presaged  
Our ruin out of hand.  
Then to mind  
I called thee right kind  
Zion bright,  
Whose fair light  
Dazzling eye,  
And Princely Majesty,  
Still in our soul doth stand,  
With tears fresh bleeding new,  
Our plants we did bedew;  
And hung by  
Our harps upon the watery Willows nigh.  
Then they (to us forlorn)  
Spoke in deriding scorn,  
To grieve us more:  
We hear you have some Songs in store;  
Then tune a string,  
Come and sing;  
We fain would hear  
What Music words  
Your soul affords,  
This heavy weight to bear.   

Ah, how should we  
Our strings set to agree,  
Or make choice  
Of a voice  
For to sound,  
That echoes might rebound  
Jehovah's living fame,  
In a land  
Where folly doth command  
With delight,  
In despite,  
To o'ersway  
And in confusion lay  
Poor Zions lovely frame?  
But in these woes if I  
Where ere I come deny  
And forget  
Thee and thy silver drops that wet,  
And distils  
Down to the little hills  
And forlorn allies,  
And fills with Songs despised valleys:  
Let my skill  
Fail for to fulfil  
Her task intended:  
For to allay that furious fray  
From hellish fumes ascended.   

All my joys  
●●alue but as toys:  
If I miss  
Thee my bliss;  
If I prise  
Not thy rich dignities  
Above my dying fame;  
Let my tongue  
In silence keep among  
Those that lie  
Long lad by  
In the graves,  
Where dismal bonds enslaves  
Unto a breathless name:  
Dear Zion, my delight,  
If I thy building slight,  
Or if I  
Do not thy ashes dignify,  
Let mine eyes  
Be filled with salt supplies,  
And brinish weeping,  
And blinded with eternal sleeping.  
Griefs renew,  
When I view  
Thy waste buildings;  
Yea 'tis my woe,  
To see the so  
Deface thy noble gildings.   

Edom he,  
Though he our kinsman be,  
On that day  
Did display  
Much despite,  
As if he took delight  
To view our sore distress;  
For relief,  
They added to our grief,  
Using words  
Worse than swords,  
With rude cries,  
And in their master-prize,  
Their madness did express.  
These buildings raze, said they,  
And in the dust them lay,  
And pull down  
The glory of her peerly Crown;  
For ever blast the fame  
Of Zions foolish name,  
And make it die,  
And in eternal silence lie.  
See, O Lord,  
And record  
Their cursed joying,  
And bear the noise  
These furies raise,  
In Zions walls destroying.   

Babel's pride,  
Displayed both far and wide:  
Though she's seen  
As a Queen,  
Sitting where  
She says she has no fear  
For ever to behold  
Mourning strange,  
Or dismal face of change,  
To affright  
With their sight,  
Or betray  
Unto a gloomy day,  
Who dares be so bold?  
But there's a blessed friend,  
That doth our Cause defend,  
Whose strong hand  
Shall lay thy Towers levelly with the sand:  
Yea, happy sure is he,  
That so rewardeth thee,  
And serves thee thus,  
With such despite as thou hast served us.  
Yea, thrice blest,  
That detest  
Those brats of thine,  
And dash them all  
In pieces small,  
Against the Rock Divine.    Ned. 
Why how now, Will, what walking all alone  
Without the bounds of our communicating?  
Are thy thoughts boundless? wilt thou needs be gone,  
And fly beyond us in thy contemplating?  
Shall flying thoughts be valued? dost thou think  
They'll pass for currant still among the wise?  
Dost think all's blind that at thy follies wink?  
No, no, we see thy foolish enterprise:  
Thou wouldst be boundless fain; I know thy aim,  
Thou aim'st at things too far beyond thy reach;  
The Labyrinth thou walkest in doth proclaim,  
Thou dost thy Conscience on the tenters stretch.  
Thou seemest regardless both of friend and foe:  
Sad melancholy muse, cloudy mists,  
Encloseth thee wherever thou dost go,  
And thy conceivings are on Had I wists.  
Thy thoughts do much resemble, to my mind,  
The Ass' thoughts, that turns away his eyes,  
And will not see the Wolf that stands behind,  
With open mouth, awaiting for his Prize.  
Put off thy Vizard, that we may behold  
Thee in thy selfness: Why shouldst thou appear  
More lovely than thou art a thousand fold?  
It casts a lustre that my eyes doth blear,  
Had I not known thee, I and many more  
Had been deceived by this false gloss of thine:  
But I have seen thee sometimes heretofore  
To pull it off and on, to make thee fine.  
Faith I confess it doth become thee well,  
If it were natural, 'tis lovely, and 'twill draw  
The hearts of the beholders: But I'll tell  
Thee what I think, and what I'm sure I saw.  Will. 
Ah, brother Ned, my sadness grows of this,  
Because I see so little God in thee:  
For I account it more than common bliss,  
In any man these gladsome beams to see:  
But when I s●e these beams of discontent,  
Breathing revenge for every slight offence;  
And when I see thee vomit spleen, and vent  
Thy own conceivings loathsome to my sense;  
I stop my nose, the senses of my soul  
I shut against these vapours that arise.  
Nor friend nor foe shall give mine ear control;  
For I have weighed thy foolish fallacies:  
Within my Balance I have weighed thy words,  
And I have found them lighter than the wind,  
And I perceive no better things accords  
With thee then vanity in gross entwinde.  

SONG.  

ALl you that are for Salem bound,  
Hie boys, haste away,  
For fear our ships should be aground;  
There's no safety in delay:  
For Time and Tide will stay for none,  
hay ●o, loath to part:  
Now time doth serve, we must be gone;  
Each one bring away his heart.   

Methinks I hear our Master call,  
Ho Boys, come aboard:  
The time doth pass, the Tide doth fall;  
Hear friends, give the word.  
Come horsed np Sails, and bear amain,  
Fair wind, gentle gale:  
Let none of you your courage stain,  
Here's wind enough to fill our Sail.   

There's no fit place to harbour here,  
Hard rocks, no remorse;  
No shelter on these coasts appear;  
Blind guides steer our course:  
Mighty hills on every side,  
Valleys deep, as low as bell.  
The raging waves who can abde?  
And for to still them who can tell?   

Thus we with resolution armed,  
Come life, come death;  
Patience makes us pass unharmed,  
Once lost, out of breath.  
If we be lost, the Sea will save;  
Cheer boys, here's a prize:  
We Seamen must not fear a wave,  
That's a shame that we despise.   

For we well know that we shall meet  
Proud blades that will not fail,  
And us with lofty speeches greet;  
Ho friends, strike your Sail:  
But we have learned for to resist;  
No Colours we will fear.  
There is no pleading Had I witted,  
Nor yet no place of hiding here.   

Lo yonder comes the roaring crew,  
Come boy, danger's near:  
Our courage we must now renew;  
Stand by, foolish fear.  
Avaunt you foul tormenting charms,  
here's help enough at hand:  
Come noble hearts, stand to your Arms,  
a greater force we must withstand.   

N●● 〈◊〉 ●ear our Master speak;  
〈…〉, be advised:  
〈…〉 lgement is but weak;  
〈…〉 come disguised.  
Yet you may know them by their feet.  
Dr●●●● 〈◊〉, clear your sight:  
For this ●●ll cup of Nectar sweet  
will make a searsull Coward fight.   

〈◊〉 we fear their cursed noise?  
Charge boys, do not spare.  
Me things their roar are but toys:  
stand to it, cast off Care.  
So long as we stand charged with Love  
who dares to assault?  
Their bold presumption well we prove;  
if they be wounded, 'tis their fault.   

Bear up your Ensign in their view;  
sh●●t Sirs, spare no cost:  
Among● them wounding Arrows strew;  
〈…〉 are not lost:  
Perhaps they may reflect again,  
〈…〉, bleeding Souls:  
Then who can heal these wounded men?  
gentle breasts their grief condoles.   

Stand to it boldly, noble hearts,  
‛ ward their charge again:  
You see they send us poisoned Darts,  
reward them for their pain;  
And send them double two for one;  
Love's shafts wound deep:  
Discharge again and they'll be gone,  
or in their wound fall a sleep.   

Alas, when will these troubles cease.  
weak souls, feeble strength;  
That we the harbour of our peace  
might see at the length?  
Ah now our Ship gins to sink,  
help hands, spare no cost:  
We must of greater sorrows drink,  
alas our Anchors hold is lost.   

Oh Master wake, arise, and save,  
we perish if thou stay:  
We fear the Sea will be our grave,  
thou canst these waves allay:  
Thou canst rebuke the roaring Seas,  
furious tempests thou canst still:  
If thou but chide, the wind obeys,  
and stands submissive to thy will.    

THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Shepherd's boy, with low and sad aspect,  
as if o'ercome with passion, looks about him,  
And for a while doth seemingly neglect  
his straggling flock within him and without him:  
Then recollecting his dispersed powers,  
who almost lost in Silence, passeth by  
All discontents, resolves to spend his hours  
in things more serious, and his pipe doth try,  
Invites the scattered Flock to hear a Song,  
and by the name of (Woman) comprehends  
The humble soul fair Rachel weeping long;  
And then digressing from his matter, spends  
Much of his time in wand'ring weariness;  
Sometimes aloft, sometimes in low despair,  
Some observations high he doth express;  
Though he may seem sometimes to beat the air:  
Of the five Senses speaks sometimes in brief.  
These in a silly cloud are mixed together;  
The single eye discerns which are the chief,  
And can distinguish when he speaks of either.  
After long seeking, weeping Rachel's found;  
Her griefs are known, her children's loss cuts deep;  
In telling of their names, her griefs abound:  
Order nor Method in this Song doth keep.  
The SONG.  

DEarest Darlings of the plains,  
place of Souls residing;  
You that listen to the Swains  
by the rivers gliding:  
Come and hearken to a Pipe  
that plays out of Season;  
For my oaten reed's not ripe,  
yet it harps on reason.   

Come, I'll tell you of a Song  
that I heard one singing,  
Full of woe and passion strong,  
heart and hands a wring.  
'Tis a woman's voice, said I;  
this I said in thinking;  
For I saw no creature nigh,  
but some birds a drinking,   

Lifting up their little bills  
to their great Creator,  
They had quickly drunk their fills,  
then to the Theatre,  
Flew about the world's great stage,  
every thing possessing,  
At their holdness none did rage,  
they no law transgressing:   

None presumed for to ask  
them of their abiding,  
They did still perform their task,  
feared not Masters chiding.  
Wheresoever they set their Feet,  
in their estimation.  
'Twas their own, and not unmeet  
to their reputation.   

Then me thought I heard a choir  
of these airy Creatures,  
Moved much with strong desire  
to behold their features;  
Much rejoicing for to hear  
how they praised their Maker,  
Oh, thought I, might I draw near,  
to be their partaker.   

Pressing something nigh the place  
where they congregated,  
They thought I had come to chase,  
and been animated  
For to hurt them in their joy;  
but I had no intention  
For to work their least annoy;  
fight was their prevention.   

I regardless for a while,  
went aside to wander  
In the desert many a mile,  
where was no by-stander:  
Then to work my thoughts were set,  
and my mind a flying;  
Matter plenty to entreat,  
objects new descrying.   

Sometimes Castles in the air  
I would fain be building;  
Something still will cross the hair,  
and mar all the guilding.  
Restless thoughts my mind possessed,  
high imaginations;  
Still there thrust in many a guest,  
working molestations.   

Sometimes almost in despair,  
at the conscience chiding;  
Then, thought I, I will repair  
to my former biding:  
But the thoughts of my return  
to my former station,  
Made my inward parts to burn,  
with a great vexation.   

Oh, thought I, must I forfo  
my acquaintance loving?  
All those friends that I love so,  
kind respects to moving?  
Shall I part with my two eyes,  
lovely things descrying,  
To be guided by such Spies,  
into weakness prying?   

I that have been apt to think  
no man's seeing better  
Than mine own, I now must wink  
and become a debtor,  
To be guided and be led  
by some sour leader,  
And so think myself well sped  
with harsh Lecture-Reader.   

Ah, those dainty Music words  
that I often hearing;  
That such sweet delights affords  
to the Senses cheering:  
Must I now forgo to hear  
these delightful voices?  
Ravishments that charm the ea●  
humane sense rejoices.   

Must I now endure a wrong?  
ah, how shall I bear it!  
Blows and smitings with the tongue,  
I do greatly fear it.  
I that have been apt to give  
blows and evil speeches  
Two for one, now must I strive  
to come with kind beseeches?   

I could ne'er abide to see  
any man more prouder  
Than myself, nor any he  
in his defence speak louder.  
Oh how sensible of wrong,  
quick in opprehension  
To conceive offences strong,  
scorning reprehension!   

How unapt am I to learn  
lovely moderation,  
And unable to discern  
snares of tribulation  
That lie hidden underneath  
leaves of painted pleasure,  
Brood's of Serpents that do breath  
blast out of measure?   

How have I been overjoyed  
at delicious smellings?  
And how quickly am annoyed  
at corrupted swell?  
Flower that but for a day  
have no longer lasting,  
And to morrow thrown away,  
to the dunghill casting.   

As I wandered all along,  
than I called to minding  
The distressed woman's song,  
some occasion finding  
To return and seek the place  
of her po●r abiding,  
And to know her piteous case,  
and cause of woe betiding.   

Back again, through thick and thi●,  
then amazed standing,  
viewing which way to begin;  
for 'twas no demanding:  
I might ask the lofty hills,  
but their high disdaining  
Showed it much against their will●,  
to their honours staining.   

Then I came into a plain  
full of water gallings,  
Willing for to entertain  
and to hear my callings.  
Stay a little, and I'll tell,  
by familiar speakings,  
How to finde her in her Cell,  
furnished with heart-breaking●.   

For I see thy troubled mind,  
and I am a witness  
Of thy sorrows in a kind:  
yet thy much unfitness  
Makes me doubt thou wilt not bear  
what I say unto thee:  
If thou canst, then stand, and hear,  
and mark what I do show thee.   

If thou go beyond that hill  
that stands over looking,  
Thou shalt hear an Echo shrill,  
which though hardly brooking.  
And yet further for thy sake,  
I will tell thee plainly,  
Thou must pass a mighty Lake,  
else thy travel's vainly.   

Something backward for to yield  
to such hard directions,  
I began to view a field  
worthy of inspections,  
Where some tracings I espied,  
willing for to follow;  
But the bushes much did hid  
places deep and hollow.   

Passing over hills and dales,  
now behold a wonder,  
Storms arose, and mighty gales,  
flames, and fearful thunder.  
Mountains moving to the plains,  
hills to garden-alleys,  
As if filled with dancing veins,  
came to hug the valleys.   

I much wondering in my mind,  
began to ask, What ail you,  
That you thus digress from kind?  
does your pillars fail you,  
That you stagger as they would  
on the Sea be sailing?  
How can you forgo your hold,  
and thus show your failing?   

But this wonder overpast,  
then steps forth a Notion,  
Telling me these hills were placed  
subject unto Motion:  
Pan had weighed them in his fist,  
and hath found their lightness,  
And oresways them as he list,  
in their vain uprightness.   

From this mountain overturned  
by that mighty Mover,  
Fora further view, I turned,  
and ●gan to discover  
Tr●●ps of Eagles, whose quick sight  
some rich prize descrying,  
From the mountains took their flight,  
none their way denying.   

'Twas a body, as I thought,  
to my best discerning,  
Which great Pan from heaven brought,  
much to our concerning:  
Very precious to behold,  
and 'twas good for feeding;  
Though long killed, it was not cold,  
for 'twas fresh a bleeding.   

To this Body all resort,  
with ma●h sweet devotion,  
None presumed to extort,  
there was no Commotion.  
'Twas no custom for to strive  
for the greatest measure;  
None was seeking to deprive  
other of his treasure.   

For there was enough for all:  
be that had but little,  
He the same might plenty call:  
be whose part was much,  
Had enough, and had no more,  
he had nothing over.  
Sweet contentment is a store  
which but few discover.   

For 'twas reached them by the hand  
of that mighty Giver,  
Depths of treasures at command,  
old, yet ever liver;  
Always drawing, yet ne'er dry;  
old, but not decaying;  
Flowing forth abundantly  
streams that's never staying.   

Having viewed and laid to heart  
in my meditations,  
Counting it a Noble part  
of my consolations;  
Then unto the powers Divine  
I sent up a heaving,  
Saying, Thou art all, and all is thine,  
quite myself outleaving.   

Then methought I saw a hand  
beckoning to come hither;  
Then I did amazed stand:  
Lord, quoth I, ah whither,  
Whither must I go to find  
that poor soul distressed,  
That doth much oppress my mind,  
as if interessed?   

There she sits with weeping cheer,  
for she's very nigh thee;  
Blubbered over with many a tear,  
she will still outcry thee.  
All the comforts thou canst bring,  
will not ease her sorrow:  
Little Rivulets will spring  
to a flood to morrow.   

Then inventing words of Art,  
seeking to persuade her;  
Painted words that case no smart,  
more in passion made her.  
All my Rhetoric was vain,  
for there was no hearing;  
She was deaf to entertain  
any words of cheering.   

Then I prayed her to relate  
what might be the matter,  
That I might commiserate;  
for I scorned to flatter.  
Oh, said she, then give an ear,  
and I'll make relation:  
You that have an ear to hear,  
hear my sad Narration.   

For it is the saddest thing  
ere befell a Woman;  
Sorrows now afresh do spring;  
and I tell thee no Man  
That ere yet my eye beheld,  
to ease my distraction,  
Can bring words, nor reason yield  
to my Satisfaction:   

For I am a Woman lost  
in my apprehension,  
On the Waves of Sorrow tossed;  
and 'tis my intention  
To stay here, and wail and weep  
all my days remaining;  
In this field I mean to keep,  
of my loss complaining.   

I have lost my Children dear:  
ab my loss is greater  
Than I am able for to bear;  
pray be no Entreater  
To persuade me, for I feel  
Sorrows that must kill me,  
Piercing worse than rods of steel,  
they with terrors fill me.   

They that were my heart's delight,  
when I did behold them,  
Are departed from my sight,  
and I could not hold them:  
All of them are fled and gone,  
and they are no longer  
Gone, and I am left alone,  
wanting life prolonger.   

Oh that beavens would agree  
to repair my Losses,  
That it once again might be  
as before those crosses;  
When encompassed with the light  
round about my dwelling,  
I had Joy and sweet delight,  
ghastly thoughts expelling,   

Where is Love, that lovely Child  
of divine begetting,  
Lovely pure and undefiled  
Plant of heavens Setting?  
When I saw thee in my Hall,  
Joy and thee together,  
My Attendance were not small;  
all came flocking thither.   

Patience, where art thou become?  
will my house not hold thee?  
I cannot see thee in my room.  
I have often told thee,  
With entreating for to stay,  
and with mighty wooing,  
Saying, If thou part away  
'twill be my undooing.   

Ah my dear Long-suffering now,  
whither art thou flying?  
Didst thou weary of me grow?  
hast forgot complying?  
Hast thou suffered overlong?  
couldst thou bear no longer?  
Did my hreath thy breathing wrong?  
was my weakness stronger?   

Joy, my sweet and lovely guest,  
art thou grown a stranger  
To my woeful throbbing breast?  
was there any danger  
In thy stay? If thou hadst stayed,  
were my rude embraces  
In such wanton guise arrayed,  
to be thy disgraces?   

Oh how far am I from peace,  
as if unacquainted?  
How can I expect increase,  
when my Courage fainted,  
And so careless was to seek  
peace, and to pursue it;  
Rough to kiss her dainty Cheek,  
now too late I rue it?   

Now the thing is come to pass  
way my expectation;  
For I feared long, alas,  
some such alteration.  
When I thought my footing fast,  
on a hill unmoving,  
At an instant came a blast,  
such couceits reproving.   

Gentleness, I thee conceived  
when I was but little;  
Twins within my womb perceived,  
but my strength was brittle:  
When they came unto the birth,  
weakness it prevailed;  
Gentleness, as cold as earth,  
wanting breath, soon failed.   

Goodness, I was mighty sick  
when I did conceive thee;  
And the time when I grew quick,  
when I did perceive thee  
To begin to stir and rise,  
though much pain enduring,  
Yet my soul did still comprise  
hopes of more assuring.   

Oh how wary then was I  
of undecent moving!  
Stirring violence laid by,  
gadding disapproving.  
Fearful lest I should let slip  
seed of such a nature;  
Heedful lest my feet should trip,  
and lose so sweet a creature.   

Ah my sweet companion, Faith,  
when I call to minding,  
I still think thy whispering saith,  
There's no hope of finding.  
When we walked hand in hand  
on that Sea of trouble,  
Foul despair, devouring sand,  
made my sorrows double.   

Ah those deadly whirling deeps,  
merciless bereaving,  
Boundless bounds, nor measure keeps,  
gulfs of deep deceive;  
Cruel Mercy, raging Love,  
waves of sad destroying;  
Overwhelmings which do move  
foams of shame, annoying.   

We that once had thoughts to fly  
far beyond the mountains,  
Almost to Eternity,  
where the living Founains  
Issue forth abundantly,  
mighty Rivers making:  
Joyful streams, whose rich supply  
thirsty desert slaking.   

All these high transcending things,  
common sense outreaching,  
All aloof on eagle's wings  
we our compass fetching,  
Quite beyond these vapours flew,  
misty clouds oretopping,  
And the sweetest breathe drew,  
for 'twas Zions dropping.   

I that had such free access  
to those inmost beings,  
Which I will not now express,  
lest some crafty seings,  
And then speaking in the air  
might produce a wonder;  
Pride, that sits in scorners chair,  
should my thoughts bring under.   

Here's a blessed prospect, said I,  
still mine eye beholding;  
Might it stay continually,  
such high things unfolding:  
I should quite forget my earth,  
at the Sun's exhaling,  
T'raptures of diviner Mirth  
willingly enthralling.   

Oh condition mighty Sweet,  
might I still enjoy thee!  
But the heavens thought unmeet  
for to overcloy me  
With these Dainties, lest I should  
surfeit in my pleasure,  
And my Nakedness unfold,  
and disery their treasure.   

Meekness, I shall ne'er forget  
with what kind entreating,  
When of purpose one was set  
with foul words and threatening,  
For to urge thee with disdain  
and with words of scorning,  
Thy reglying did contain  
things of rich adorning.   

Ah thy words and sweet replies,  
from divine infusing,  
Showed there were in thee supplies,  
far beyond self choosing:  
Heavens breath of cooling Fire,  
flames of rage allaying;  
Nature of a blessed Sire,  
influence conveying.   

Not like Hellish rage, that swells  
mighty, like a Monster:  
Fire, whose infernal Spells  
will all things Misconsier,  
Turning to an evil sense  
things of good intention,  
Blasting under fair pretence,  
growing things prevention.    Dick. 
I Have sent thee half a dozen Songs,  
that thou mayst tune them; prithee do thy best,  
And I'll forgive the six or seven wrongs  
that thou didst me in earnest and in jest.  
I know thy Art doth far exceed my skill,  
yet 'tis but Nature's handmaid that must wait:  
And so it shall thoughht be against thy will,  
'tis good sometimes to set our reckoning straight.  
Thou knowest thou owest to me a great deal more,  
thou owest me for a Pipe thou took'st away,  
And twenty things besides stands on thy score,  
and more I doubt than thou ere meanest to pay:  
Thou ow'st to me thyself, and all that's thine,  
Thy Scrip is mine, also thy dainty Sling;  
Thy Sheephook and thy Tarbox both are mine,  
I taught thy Dog to carry and bring.  
Well, what I say, I think thou wilt confess;  
Let thee and I observe old Harry's Law,  
And then I'm sure we shall not much transgress;  
some observations we from thence may draw.  
Thou knowst how once a friend of mine and thine  
was served by Jeffe, of whom my Conscience says.  
His meaning did to honest things incline,  
though ill acquainted with our master's ways:  
Who being in distress, and wand'ring long  
upon the Western Plains, sat down a while  
Under a Hawthorne, and tuned a Song;  
the Country Shepherds thought him some exile;  
Who to this comfort freely did present  
their Bottles and their bags in friendly wise,  
And bade him eat, and drink, and be content,  
and showed him kindness in the country guise:  
But oh, alas, with pity be it spoke,  
when he had eat, and drank, and sat a while,  
He looking wildly, into passion broke,  
the Country Shepherds fell for to revile;  
And in these words to my best observation,  
he uttered forth a kind of indignation.  

SONG.  

GEt you gone from me,  
Ye Ravens of the valleys;  
I would fain be free,  
Pray keep you with your kind:  
I have meat to eat  
Exceds your homely feeding.  
Till I do entreat,  
Let me possess my mind:  
In this my silent musing  
I am best content;  
For I do frequent  
Yonder valleys choosing,  
Lofty hills refusing;  
What I seek I find.    
BUt Dick, let thee and I always have an eye unto the Star that never leads out of the way of Humility, which will serve as the Mathematical Compass, for Travellers, when they pass thorough the unknown Land, whose inhabitants speaks a strange Language; but they knowing still where they are, and having an eye to their guide that never deceives them, pass thorough all difficulties of the confused Wilderness: And though perhaps often meet with Scratching Brambles that catch hold, and get now and then a Fleece, tacitly speaking, Stay with us; and though you have passed over the great River, yet there is a great many Rivoletts and Fords to pass over, which will be a hindrance before you set down your rest.  
And sirrah Dick, I'll tell thee how one of our Northern Shepherds t'other neght (for it was in the night) was served with a Pooke, as thou knowest there be many in the North.  
As the poor man sat watching his Flock, and yet something given to hearken to Novelties, there passed by one like a Shepherd well accoutred, and tells him, That if he would go along with him, he would direct him to exceeding good pasture. And this being in the Night of his understanding, he follows the Man up Hills, and down Dales, thorough thick and thin, and fetcheth a mighty compass; and they traveled all night, (like horses in a Mill blindfold) till they came to the place where they began: Then perceiving the delusion, he began to draw bacl; for the spell was at an end, for it was not God spell but devil spell.  
But he having formerly observed the Nature of our Master, saw plain enough that it was but a Delusion: for our Master is no deceiver, neither doth he use any Ambiguous words to cause us to doubt; but says, This is the way, walk in it.  
And I tell thee Dick, his way is the way of Charity; for there is never a Pooke in the world can be Charitable, for it is against their nature.  
But it is natural to our Master to go about doing good: And thou shalt do well to observe the difference; The one is a Calumniatour of all good actions and endeavours; the other construes all good endeavours to the best, and is so far from vilifying the Country Shepherd in his Dialect that cannot speak Grammar; that as in the water face answereth to face, he answereth according to the mind, and not to the words of the speaker.  
Well then Dick, thou knowest that all men are Imitaters; and I would not have thee Imitate the Pooke, or, Will with a Wisp, whose false fire keeps no constant station; but skips up and down, and rather blinds, then gives light to the simple.  
Well Dick, I know thou understandest my language, and as yet I could never hear thee put a tune to any Sirens Song: but as like rejoiceth to see its like, and thy spirit that I love, knoweth the meaning of my spirit well, that I need not instruct thee any further, but i'll tell thee more of my mind Shortly.  
But Dick, I am now at a stand, unless thou canst help me at a dead lift; for I cannot tell how to tune the Song of many minds: For I tell thee I have been often amongst the zealous hearted, and I have heard them all sing Severally; And to my thinking, all of them agree in this, To magnify the great name of Pan; For that is the Subject of all their Songs, though I confess I have heard a great noise against Independents, as If Independency had no relation nor dependency upon God, nor no part in David, of whom I I will give thee my reason or opinion, without rhyme, (think thee what thou wilt) That they in their spirits have smelled such a savour of thy holy anointing, which hath such an Adamantick: drawing, that makes them thus violently to run after Christ; I it is the Common Song— Master, we well follow thee whereseever thou goest; Of these I could instance in particulars; But I leave that for a second part.  
Vale.   

Something on the Lord's Prayer.  

WE whose conception, Matter, and our being,  
Are the outflowing of a noble Nature;  
Immortal Seed infused with agreeing,  
And sweet consenting, hath produced a Creature,  
Old things are past, and now we do behold  
New things appearing daily in our sight,  
Substantial living breathe manifold,  
By which we say (Our Father) as by right:  
Father of Spirits; Oh how glad are we  
To call upon thee by the Name of Father?  
We are thy offspring, lo we flee to thee,  
And like the Eagles, to thy body gather.  
Sweetness itself thy Name doth so import;  
We are thy Children, and thy sons by birth:  
We will not speak of thee by bare report,  
For our affections are not on the Earth.  
Thou art our Father, and we'll hang on thee;  
we'll take no thought, for thou dost still provide;  
we'll take no care, in thee we shall live free;  
We have no helper in the earth beside,  
Father, we need not ask thee where thou dwellest,  
But we will come and see, if thou give leave:  
Then bid us come the way that thou compelest  
By hand of Love, which never did deceive.  
We know where thou dost dwell, and where thou art;  
in low humility thou dost delight,  
There are thy heavens, there thou dost impart  
Those noble visions, ravishing the sight.  
Father, show us thy Glory we desire; 〈◊〉  
We fallen would see thy Glory i●hen gieep,  
Where panting Souls short breathe do aspire,  
and the Records of thy embrace keep.  
Now Hallowed be thy sweet and precious Name:  
Thy nature and thy Name are highly prized;  
With Songs of praise we will declare the same,  
Yea, with new songs which Nature hath devised.  
We cannot choose but tell thy noble praise;  
Thy prattling babes in time may learn to speak;  
Yea, we will spread our garments in thy ways,  
And goodly branches we will cut and break:  
we'll strew thy ways with songs, and bring thee home  
Unto thy dwelling, and thy place of rest:  
we'll bring thee to thy temple, then we'll come,  
And sit, and hear thy wisdom which is best;  
For thou art mighty in humility,  
Therein thy greatness most of all appeareth;  
Mighty in doing good, a Majesty  
To which our Spirits most of all endeareth.  
Great is thy Name, and thou hast given strength  
Unto thy little ones for to declare it:  
If we should hold our peace, the stones at length  
Would melt and cry; they could not long forbear it.  
Oh let thy Kingdom come, we long for that,  
That thou mightst reign and rule among the Nations,  
And that those daring walls may fall down flat,  
That do include such strange abominations:  
With sceptre of thy Love so oversway  
That brood of Giants that as yet possess  
The goodly hills, thy captives lead away,  
In chains of Love their fury to suppress.  
Though Sceptre of thy Kingdom do compel,  
Yet such compulsion we are glad to bear;  
To bear thy yoke we are contented well,  
and thy commands not grievous do appear.  
Thy Kingdom comes, and we are well content  
To wait upon thy will and thy command:  
If we should live out of this Element,  
Then we should perish quickly out of hand.  
What is thy will, we will: we'll not repine  
to see thy will effected; but desire  
It may be done in all that's called thine,  
In all affections low, or raised higher.  
Nought comes amiss to us, for we have learned  
To be content withal things that befall us;  
In every thing we can and have discerned  
Thy hand of providence for to impale us.  
Give us (in this our day) our living Bread,  
The children's bread for whom it is provided,  
That we may live thy life, let us be fed,  
As thou wast wont, let it be still divided;  
For every eye of Faith looks up to thee  
For satisfying food and thou suppliest  
Their biting wants with blessings rich and free,  
Come all that will, for thou no soul deniest.  
This is the staff on which we'll always leave,  
And by this staff we passed through Iordans flood;  
The staff of youth, and in our Age we mean  
To make it all our stay and chiefest good.  
If with this bread thou'lt feed our fainting soul,  
And satisfy with life our Souls desire;  
If thou our names will't in thy Book inroul,  
To wear thy clothing and thy known attire;  
If thou wilt  our spirits in that white,  
That perfect white, and righteous robes divine;  
If with thy spirit thou wilt ours unite,  
That it may never be at odds with thine:  
Then thou shalt be our everlasting stay,  
we'll seek no other fortress to Secure us;  
In thee we'll hid ourselves in heat of day  
And in the night thy presence shall secure us.  
Father, we are in debt, and cannot pay,  
Unless thou make us able, we shall perish;  
Forgive our debts, that we in freedom may  
Recover strength, and our conceptions cherish.  
We are indebted, and engaged to yield  
Perfect obedience, by thy law of love;  
But when we wander in this mighty field,  
Seeking ourselves, lost better things above.  
But as we are indebted, we have those,  
That are in debt to us, which daily wrong us,  
Which constantly with might and main oppose  
Our best endeavours; yet they live among us:  
Those we forgive, and give them meat to eat,  
And drink to drink, and fain would overcome  
Their evil with our Good: but they still threat  
To work our utter ruin all and some.  
In all our Wants, Lord keep us from despair;  
For thou art rich, and in thy house is store,  
And we believe we shall not lose a hair;  
Give us even as thou wilt, or less, or more:  
Only into temptation lead us not,  
To leave us to our: from that Evil  
Deliver us, and let's not be forgot  
In hellish grave, to perish with the Devil;  
For those that lie in grave, and stinking ripe,  
They have nor tongues nor will to speak thy praise;  
Hell hugs them fast, the feel no dismal gripe;  
They have no heart nor power themselves to raise:  
The living, Oh the living, that partake  
Of thy sweet life, they, they, have tongves to tell,  
And of thy wonders true Relation make,  
How they have passed the deeps in heaven and hell;  
Through deep temptation, They have passed along,  
Accounting it their Joy, because they saw  
Thy leading hand, which ne'er directed wrong,  
And from those deeps can sweet contentment draw;  
For well we know, the mighty Kingdoms thine,  
And of thy Kingdom there shall be no end,  
Though other Kings and Princes do repine,  
Yet with thy Sceptre thou wilt make them bend,  
And bring their Crowns and lay them at thy feet,  
And lay aside their Honour, when they see  
How apt their weak foundations are to fleet,  
And how thy Kingdom is from changes free:  
And now, though other powers overswayed  
And overlorded us besides thy power;  
Yet by thy power we will not be dismayed.  
Although they come in troops for to devour,  
Because there is a glory that outshines  
The proud, fantastic, foolish, painted glory  
Of earthly spirits, that still undermines  
To make thy power but an empty story.  
In every Age unto Eternity,  
Thy Kingdom, Power, and Glory, is made known.  
Though overclouded in a Mystery,  
To carnal view the beauty not shown;  
Yet we have seen it in the Wilderness,  
In low despised valleys; therefore we,  
What we have seen and heard we will confess,  
whilst we have being and our life in thee.    

A concluding SONG.  

NOw let our praises  
Be unto him that raises  
Our minds from thrall,  
That mighty Giver,  
Of life, yet ever Liver,  
Who by his Call,  
And sweet and lovely voice doth bring to light  
That which lay hidden,  
And guests are bidden,  
To feast of things right sweet he doth invite,  
Where we may eat and drink with great delight.   

He hath prepared,  
No delicates are spared,  
For his great Feast;  
And he is able  
For to prepare a table  
For every guest,  
Even in the barren wildernessed lands,  
There where no Water  
Nor dews do scatter,  
But parched with heat, and dry consuming Sands;  
There, even there, his furnished Table stands.   

In all our walkings,  
And our poor childish tall kings,  
If thou draw near,  
Our hearts with burning  
Shall mitigate our mourning;  
Thy presence dear  
Shall make our Water pleasant wine to be:  
The bread that's broken  
Shall be a token,  
And we shall know that it is thee, even thee,  
Thy hands and feet are manifest to see.   

Come you, beloved,  
That have my words approved,  
And drink your fill,  
That nights of Sorrow  
May be forgot to Morrow,  
For comforts still.  
Drink and be drunken, best beloved Friends;  
Cast out your fearing,  
here's time of cheering;  
This goodly Fountain streams of plenty Sends,  
And on forsaken valleys down descends.   

Avaunt Impostors,  
Stand back Fantastic boasters,  
And cease your suit:  
'Tis vain persuading,  
No more of your invading,  
we'll not dispute  
What you can say of your beloved Peer;  
For our beloved  
Is best approved  
To be the fairest and the loveliest deer;  
The very thoughts of him our soul doth cheer,   

Then vain despairing,  
Flee hence, and cease thy daring,  
And mighty show;  
And leave thy prying,  
Our liberty of denying;  
Take this to know,  
The eagle's way no man can understands,  
his way in flying  
Is past descrying;  
His noble sight at foggy Mists ne'er stands,  
But through the clouds a speedy way commands.   

Come, noble hearted,  
Within whose breasts are darted  
Jove's Arrows keen,  
Whose deep Impressions,  
And wounds that want expressions,  
Are to be seen:  
The eye, the eye that lovely piercing eye,  
Content and willing  
With Love's sweet kill;  
In life and death it is no Misery,  
in loves sweet bonds and chains to live and die.   

Rejoice ye valleys  
And overtrodden allies,  
The time is near,  
Though disrespected,  
And seemingly neglected;  
It shall appear;  
God is as mighty in the lowest plains,  
where reeds are Shaken,  
despised, forsaken,  
Forlorn, and lost, as yet no hope retains;  
There, even there, his mighty presence reigns.   

Why stand ye gazing,  
With doubtful hearts amazing,  
And lift up eyes?  
Sweet Friends, your longing  
And strong conceits come thronging,  
With doubts arise:  
Return, return, sweet friends, and wait a while;  
Your too much loving  
Things apt to moving,  
May prove a snare the senses to beguile;  
This lovely Flesh must suffer an exile.   

Now the remainings  
Of these our souls sustaining,  
So rich in taste;  
Those precious leave  
Of plentiful receivings,  
Let us not waste:  
Let's gather up the break, and behold  
How Pan's increasins,  
and secret blessings,  
Shall fill more baskets full then can be told:  
His treasuere's full of all things new and old,    
FINIS.