Муза стиля

The mourning Muse of Thestylis.

Come forth ye Nymphes come forth, forsake you[r] watry bowres,   345
Forsake your mossy caues, and help me to lament:
Help me to tune my dolefull notes to gurgling sound
Of Liffies tumbling streames: Come let salt teares of ours,
Mix with his waters fresh. O come let one consent
Ioyne vs to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound        350
         
Which fatall clap hath made; decreed by higher powres.
The dreery day in which they haue from vs yrent
The noblest plant that might from East to West be found.

Mourne, mourn, great Philips fall, mourn his wofull end,
Whom spitefull death hath pluct vntimely from the tree,           355
Whiles yet his yeares in flowre, did promise worthie frute.
Ah dreadful Mars why didst thou not thy knight defend?
What wrathfull mood, what fault of ours hath moued thee
Of such a shining light to leaue vs destitute?
Tho with benign aspect sometime didst vs behold,                360
Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old,
And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute
Fame and renowme to vs for glorious martiall deeds.
But now thy irefull bemes haue chill'd our harts with cold,
Thou hast estrang'd thy self, and deignest not our land:           365            
Farre off to others now, thy fauour honor breeds,
And high disdaine doth cause thee shun our clime (I feare)
For hadst thou not been wroth, or that time neare at hand,
Thou wouldst haue heard the cry that woful England made,
Eke Zelands piteous plaints, and Hollands toren heare              370            
Would haply haue appeas'd thy diuine angry mynd:
Thou shouldst haue seen the trees refuse to yeeld their shade
And wailing to let fall the honour of their head,
And birds in mournfull tunes lamenting in their kinde:
Vp from his tombe the mightie Corineus rose,                375               
Who cursing oft the fates that this mishap had bred,
His hoary locks he tare, calling the heauens vnkinde.
The Thames was heard to roare, the Reyne and eke the Mose,
The Schald, the Danow selfe this great mischance did rue,
With torment and with grief; their fountains pure and cleere       380            
Were troubled, & with swelling flouds declar'd their woes.
The Muses comfortles, the Nymphes with paled hue,
The Siluan Gods likewise came running farre and neere,
And all with teares bedeawd, and eyes cast vp on hie,
O help, O help ye Gods, they ghastly gan to crie.                385         
O chaunge the cruell fate of this so rare a wight,
And graunt that natures course may measure out his age.
The beasts their food forsooke, and trembling fearfully,
Each sought his caue or den, this cry did them so fright.
Out from amid the waues, by storme then stirr'd to rage             390
This crie did cause to rise th'old father Ocean hoare,
Who graue with eld, and full of Maiestie in sight,
Spake in this wise. Refrain (quoth he) your teares and plaints,
Cease these your idle words, make vaine requests no more.
No humble speech nor mone, may moue the fixed stint                395
Of destinie or death: Such is his will that paints
The earth with colors fresh; the darkest skies with store
Of starry lights: And though your teares a hart of flint
Might tender make, yet nought herein they will preuaile.
Whiles thus he said, the noble knight, who gan to feele               400         
His vitall force to faint, and death with cruell dint
Of direfull dart his mortall body to assaile,
With eyes lift vp to heau'n, and courage franke as steele,
With cheerfull face, where valour liuely was exprest,
But humble mynd he said. O Lord if ought this fraile                405         
And earthly carcasse haue thy seruice sought t'aduaunce,
If my desire haue bene still to relieue th'oppest:
If Iustice to maintaine that valour I haue spent
Which thou me gau'st; or if henceforth I might aduaunce
Thy name, thy truth, then spare me (Lord) if thou think best,           410      
Forbeare these Vnripe yeares. But if thy will be bent,
If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set,
Through pure and feruent faith, I hope now to be plast,
In th'euerlasting blis, which with thy precious blood
Thou purchase didst for vs. With that a sigh he fet,                415      
And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercast,
His lips waxt pale and wan, like damaske roses bud
Cast from the stalke, or like in field to purple flowre,
VVhich languisheth being shred by culter as it past.
A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines, which were              420
VVith eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre,
VVhose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare,
Next, murmuring ensude; at last they not forbeare
Plaine outcries, all against the heau'[n]s that enuiously
Depriu'd vs of a spright so perfect and so rare.                425               
The Sun his lightsom beames did shrowd, and hide his face
For griefe, whereby the earth feard night eternally:
The mountaines eachwhere shooke, the riuers turn'd their streames,
And th'aire gan winterlike to rage and fret apace:
And grisly ghosts by night were seene, and fierie gleames,               430            
Amid the clouds with claps of thunder, that did seeme
To rent the skies, and made both man and beast afeard:
The birds of ill presage this lucklesse chance foretold,
By dernfull noise, and dogs with howling made man deeme
Some mischief was at hand: for such they do esteeme                435         
As tokens of mishap, and so haue done of old.
Ah that thou hadst but heard his louely Stella plaine
Her greeuous losse, or seene her heauie mourning cheere,
While she with woe opprest, her sorrowes did vnfold.
Her haire hung lose neglect, about her shoulders twaine,                440            
And from those two bright starres, to him sometimes so deere
Her heart sent drops of pearle, which fell in foyson downe
Twixt lilly and the rose. She wroong her hands with paine,
And piteously gan say, My true and faithfull pheere,
Alas and woe is me, why should my fortune frowne                445            
On me thus frowardly to rob me of my ioy?
What cruell enuious hand hath taken thee away,
And with thee my content, my comfort and my stay?
Thou onelie wast the ease of trouble and annoy,
When they did me assaile, in thee my hopes did rest.                450            
Alas what now is left but grief, that night and day
Afflicts this wofull life, and with continuall rage
Torments ten thousand waies my miserable brest?


O greedie enuious heau'n what needed thee to haue
Enricht with such a Iewell this vnhappie age,                455            
To take it back againe so soone? Alas when shall
Mine eies see ought that may content them, since thy graue
My onely treasure hides the ioyes of my poore hart?
As here with thee on earth I liu'd, euen so equall
Me thinkes it were with thee in heau'n I did abide:                460            
And as our troubles all we on earth did part,
So reason would that there of thy most happie state
I had my share. Alas if thou my trustie guide
Were wont to be, how canst thou leaue me thus alone
In darknesse and astray; weake, wearie, desolate,                465            
Plung'd in a world of woe, refusing for to take
Me with thee, to the place of rest where thou art gone.
This said, she held her peace, for sorrow tide her toong;
And insteed of more words, seemd that her eies a lake
Of teares had beene, they flow'd so plenteously therefro:               470      
And with her sobs and sighs, th'aire round about her roong.
If Venus when she waild her deare Adonis slaine,
Ought moou'd in thy fiers hart compassion of her woe,
His noble sisters plaints, her sighes and teares emong,
Would sure haue made thee milde, and inly rue her paine:                475
Aurora halfe so faire, her selfe did neuer show,
When from old Tithons bed, shee weeping did arise.
The blinded archer-boy, like larke in showre of raine
Sat bathing of his wings, and glad the time did spend
Vnder those cristall drops, which fell from her faire eies,              480      
And at their brightest beames him proynd in louely wise.
Yet sorie for her grief, which he could not amend,
The g&etilde;tle boy ga wipe her eies, and clear those lights,
Those lights through which, his glory and his conquests shine.
The Graces tuckt her hair, which hung like threds of gold,                485   
Along her yuorie brest the treasure of delights.
All things with her to weep, it seemed, did encline,
The trees, the hills, the dales, the caues, the stones so cold.
The aire did help them mourne, with dark clouds, raine and mist,
Which made them eftsoones feare the daies of Pirrha shold,                490
Of creatures spoile the earth, their fatall threds vntwist.
For Phoebus gladsome raies were wished for in vaine,
And with her quiuering light Latonas daughter faire,
And Charles-waine eke refus'd to be the shipmans guide.
On Neptune warre was made by Aeolus and his traine,                495
Who letting loose the winds, tost and tormented th'aire,
So that on eu'ry coast men shipwrack did abide,
Or else were swallowed vp in open sea with waues,
And such as came to shoare, were beaten with despaire.
The Medwaies siluer streames, that wont so still to slide,                500         
Were troubled now and wrothe: whose hidd&etilde; hollow caues
Along his bank sith fog then shrowded from mans eye,
Ay Phillip did resownd, aie Phillip they did crie.
His Nimphs were seen no more (thogh custom still it craues)
With haire spred to the wynd themselues to bath or sport,                505      
Or with the hooke or net, barefooted wantonly
The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceiue.
The shepheards left their wonted places of resort,
Their bagpipes now were still; their louing mery layes
Were quite forgot; and now their flocks, m&etilde; might perceiue         510   
To wander and to straie, all carelesly neglect.
And in the stead of mirth and pleasure, nights and dayes
Nought els was to be heard, but woes, complaints & mone.
But thou (O blessed soule) doest haply not respect,
These teares we shead, though full of louing pure affect,                515            
Hauing affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne,
Where full of maiestie the high creator reignes.
In whose bright shining face thy ioyes are all complete,
Whose loue kindles thy spright; where happie alwaies one,
Thou liu'st in blis that earthly passion neuer staines;                520         
Where from the purest spring the sacred Nectar sweete
Is thy continuall drinke: where thou doest gather now
Of well emploied life, th'inestimable gaines.
There on thee smiles, Apollo giues thee place,
And Mars in reuerent wise doth to thy vertue bow,                525      
And decks his fiery sphere, to do thee honour most.
In highest part whereof, thy valour for to grace,
A chaire of golde he setts to thee, and there doth tell
Thy noble acts arew, whereby euen they that boast
Themselues of auncient fame, as Pirrhus, Hanniball,                530
Scipio and Caesar, with the rest that did excell
In martiall prowesse, high thy glorie do admire.
All haile therefore. O worthie Phillip immortall,
The flowre of Sydneyes race, the honour of thy name,
Whose worthie praise to sing, my Muses not aspire,                535   
But sorrowfull and sad these teares to thee let fall,
Yet with their verses might so farre and wide thy fame
Extend, that enuies rage, nor time might end the same.

A pastorall Aeglogue vpon the death of Sir Phillip
Sidney Knight, &c.

Lycon. Colin.
 
Colin, well fits thy sad cheare this sad stownd,
This wofull stownd, wherein all things complaine                540   
This great mishap, the greeuous losse of owres.
Hear'st thou the Orown? how with hollow sownd
He slides away, and murmuring doth plaine,
And seemes to say vnto the fading flowres,
Along his banks, vnto the bared trees;                545               
Phillisides is dead. Vp iolly swaine,
Thou that with skill canst tune a dolefull lay,
Help him to mourn. My hart with grief doth freese,
Hoarse is my voice with crying, else a part
Sure would I beare, though rude: But as I may,                550
With sobs and sighes I second will thy song,
And so expresse the sorrowes of my hart.