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I WALKED along a stream, for pureness rare,
Brighter than sunshine; for it did acquaint
The dullest sight, with all the glorious prey
That in the pebble-pavèd channel lay.
No molten crystal; but a richer mine,
Even Nature's rarest alchemy, ran there!
Diamonds resolved, and substance more divine.
Through whose bright gliding current might appear
A thousand naked Nymphs; whose ivory shine
Enamelling the banks, made them more dear
Than ever was that glorious Palace gate
Where the day-shining Sun, in triumph sat.
Upon this brim, the eglantine and rose,
The tamarisk, olive, and the almond tree,
As kind companions, in one union grows;
Folding their twindring arms, as oft we see
Turtle-taught Lovers, either, other 'close;
Lending to dullness, feeling sympathy.
And as a costly valance o'er a bed,
So did their garland tops the brook o'erspread! Their leaves, that differed both in shape and show, Though all were green; yet difference such in green,
Like to the chequered bent of IRIS' bow,
Prided the running main, as it had been.
COME live with me, and be my Love!
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, and hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain, yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks;
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing Madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair linèd slippers, for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my Love!
The Shepherds Swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight, each May morning.
If these delights thy mind may move;
Then live with me, and be my Love!
[Ignoto is not to be taken as the pseudonym of a single Poet, but rather as that of a number of Poets who wished to remain unknown for poems by R. BARNFIELD, F. GREVILLE Lord BROOKE, T. LODGE, Sir W. RALEGH, and A. W., have been recovered from this ascription.-E. A.]
TO THE SHEPHERD.
IF all the World and Love were young,
And truth in every Shepherd's tongue;
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy Love.
Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold;
And PHILOMEL becometh dumb;
The rest complain of cares to come.
The flowers do fade; and wanton fields,
To wayward winter reckoning yields.
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is Fancy's Spring; but Sorrow's Fall.
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break! soon wither! soon forgotten!
In folly ripe; in reason rotten!
Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy Love!
But could Youth last, and Love still breed;
Had Joys no date, nor Age no need:
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy Love!
A NYMPH'S DISDAIN OF LOVE.
'HEY, down-a-down!' did DIAN sing,
Amongst her virgins sitting,
'Than Love there is no vainer thing!
For Maidens most unfitting!'
And so think I, with a down, down, derry!
When Women knew no woe,
But lived themselves to please;
Men's feigning guiles they did not know,
The ground of their disease.
Unborn was false Suspect!
No thought of Jealousy!
From wanton toys and fond affect,
The Virgin's life was free!
'Hey, down-a-down!' did DIAN sing, &c.
At length, Men usèd charms;
To which what Maids gave ear,
Embracing gladly endless harms,
Anon enthralled were.
Thus Women welcomed Woe,
Disguised in name of Love,
A jealous hell! a painted show!
So shall they find, that prove!
'Hey, down-a-down!' did DIAN sing, &c.
PHILLIDA'S LOVE CALL TO HER
CORIDON; AND HIS REPLYING.
PHIL. CORIDON! arise, my CORIDON!
TITAN shineth clear!
Who is it, that calleth CORIDON?
Who is it, that I hear?
PHIL. PHILLIDA, thy True Love, calleth thee!
Arise, then! Arise, then!
Arise, and keep thy flock with me!
COR. PHILLIDA, my True Love; is it she?
I come then! I come then!
I come, and keep my flock with thee!
PHIL. Here are cherries ripe for CORIDON;
Eat them, for my sake!
COR. Here's my oaten pipe, my lovely one!
Sport for thee to make!