SONG

IT was the time when to our Northerne Pole
The brightest Lampe of Heaven begins to rolle,
When Earth more wanton in new Robes appeareth,
And scorning Skies her Flowres in Rain-bows beareth,
On which the Aire moist Diamonds doth bequeath,
Which quake to feele the kissing Zephires breath:
When Birds from shady Groves their Love forth warble,
And Sea-like Heaven, Heaven looks like smoothest Marble,
When I in simple course free from all Cares,
Far from the muddy Worlds inslaving snares.
By Oras flowry Bankes alone did wander:
Ora that sports her like to old Meander,
A Floud more worthy Fame and lasting praise
Then that so high which Phaëtons fall did raise:
By whose pure moving Glasse the Milke-white Lillies
Do dresse their tresses and the Daffad…llies.
Where Ora with a Wood is crown'd about
And (seems) forgets the way how to come out,
A place there is, where a delicious Fountaine
Springs fr…m the swelling brest of a proud Mountaine,
Whose falling Streames the quiet Cavernes wound,
And make the Echoes shrill resound that sound.
The Laur…ll there the shing Channell graces,
The Palm h…r Love with long-stretch'd Arms embraces,
The Poplar spreads her Branches to the Skie,
And hides from sight that azure Canopy.
The Streams the Trees, the Trees their leaves still nourish,
That Place grave Winter finds …ot without flourish.
If living Eyes Elysian fields could see
This little Arden might Elysium be.
Oft did Diana there her selfe repose,
And Ma…s the Acidalia… Queen enclose.
The Nymphs oft here their baskets bring with Flow'rs,
And Anadems weave for their Paramours,
The Satyres in those shades are heard to languish,
And make the Shepheards partners of their anguish,
The Shepheards who in Barkes of tender Trees
Do grave their Loves, Disdaines, and Jealousies:
Which Phillis when there by Her Flocks she feedeth,
With Pitty now, anon, with laughter readeth.
Neare to this place when Sun in midst of Day
In highest top of Heaven his Coach did stay,
And (as advising) on his Career glanced
As all along, that morne he had advanced
His panting Steeds along those Fields of light,
Most princely looking from that glorious height:
When most the Grashoppers are heard in Meadows,
And loftiest Pines or small, or have no shadows:
It was my hap, O wofull hap! to bide
Where thickest shades me from all Raies did hide,
In a faire Arbor, 'twas some Sylvans Chamber,
Whose Seeling spred was with the Locks of Amber
Of new bloom'd Sicamors, Floore wrought with Flow'rs,
More sweet and rich than those in Princes Bow'rs.
Here Adon blush't, and Clitia all amazed
Lookt pale, with Him who in the Fountaine gazed,
The Amaranthus smyl'd, and that sweet Boy
Which sometime was the God of Delos joy:
The brave Carnation, speckled Pinke here shined,
The Uiolet her fainting Head declined
Beneath a sleepy Chasbow, all of Gold
The Marigold her leaves did here unfold.
Now while that ravish'd with delight and wonder,
Halfe in a trance I lay those Arches under,
The season, silence, place, began t' entise,
Eyes drowsie lids to bring Night on their Skies,
Which softly having stollen themselves together
(Like evening Clouds) me plac'd I wot not whether.
As Cowards leave the Fort which they should keep,
My senses one by one gave place to Sleep,
Who followed with a troupe of golden Slumbers
Thrust from my quiet Braine all base encumbers,
And thrice me touching with his Rod of Gold,
A Heaven of Visions in my Temples roll'd,
To countervaile those Pleasures were bereft me,
Thus in his silent Prison clos'd he left me.
Me thought through all the neighbour Woods a noise
Of Quiristers, more sweet than Lute or voice,
(For those harmonious sounds to Jove are given
By the swift touches of the nine-string'd Heaven,
Such aires, and nothing else) did wound mine Eare,
No Soule but would become all Eare to heare:
And whilst I listning lay, O lovely wonder!
I saw a pleasant Mirtle cleave asunder;
A Mirtle great with birth, from whose rent wombe
Three naked Nymphs more white than Snow forth come.
For Nymphs they seem'd, about their heavenly faces
In Waves of Gold floted their curling Tresses,
About their armes, their Armes more white than milke,
They blushing Armlets wore of crimson Silke.
The Goddesses were such that by Scamander,
Appeared to the Phrygian Alexander:
Aglaia and her Sisters such perchance
Be when about some sacred Spring they dance.
But scarce the Grove their naked Beauties graced,
And on the Verdure had each other traced,
When to the Floud they ran, the Floud in Robes
Of curling Christall their brests Ivory Globes
Did all about incircle, yet took pleasure
To show white Snows throughout her liquid Azure.
Look how Prometheus Man when heavenly fire
First gave him Breath, Daies Brandon did admire,
And wondred at this Worlds Amphitheater:
So gaz'd I on those new guests of the Water.
All three were faire, yet one excell'd as far
The rest as Phoebus doth the Cyprian Star,
Or Diamonds, small Gems, or Gems do other,
Or Pearls that shining shell is call'd their Mother.
Her Haire more bright than are the Mornings Beames
Hung in a golden shower above the Streames,
And dangling sought her fore-head for to cover,
Which seen did straight a Skie of Milke discover,
With two faire Brows, Loves Bows which never bend
But that a golden Arrow forth they send.
Beneath the which two burning Planets glancing
Flasht flames of Love, for Love there still is dancing.
Her either Cheeke resembled blushing Morne,
Or Roses Gueles in field of Lillies borne▪
'Twixt which an Ivory Wall so faire is rais…d,
That it is but abased when it's praised.
Her Lips like Rows of Corrall soft did swell,
And th' one like th' other only doth excell:
The Tyrian Fish looks pale, pale look the Roses,
The Rubies pale, when mouth sweet Cherry closes.
Her Chin like silver Phoebe did appeare
Darke in the midst to make the rest more cleare:
Her Neck seem'd fram'd by curious Phidias Master,
Most smooth, most white, a peece of Alabaster.
Two foaming Billows flow'd upon her brest,
Which did their tops with Corrall red encrest:
There all about as Brooks them sport at leisure,
With Circling Branches veines did swell in azure:
Within those crookes are only found those Isles
Which Fortunate the dreaming old World stiles.
The rest the Streames did hide, but as a Lilly
Sunke in a Christals faire transparent Belly.
I who yet humane weaknesse did not know,
(For yet I had not felt that Archers Bow,
Nor could I thinke that from the coldest Water
The w…nged Yongling burning Flames could scatter)
On every part my vagabonding sight
Did cast, and drowne mine Eyes in sweet Delight,
O wondrous thing (said I) that Beauty is named!
Now I perceive I heretofore have dreamed,
And never found in all my flying Daies
Joy unto this, which only merits praise.
My pleasures have been paines, my comforts crosses,
My treasure poverty, my gaines but losses.
O precious sight! which none doth else descry
Except the burning Sun, and quivering I.
And yet O deare-bought Sight! O would for ever
I might enjoy you, or had joy'd you never!
O happy Floud! if so ye might abide,
Yet ever glory of this Moments Pride,
Adjure your Rillets all for to behold Her,
And in their Christall Armes to come and fold Her;
And sith ye may not long this Blesse embrace,
Draw thousand Pourtraits of Her on your Face,
Pourtraits which in my Heart be more apparent,
If like to yours my Brest but were transparent.
O that I were while She doth in you play,
A Daulphine to transport Her to the Sea!
To none of all those Gods I would Her render,
From Thule to Inde though I should with Her wander.
Oh! what is this? the more I fixe mine Eye,
Mine Eye the more new Wonders doth espie,
The more I spie, the more in uncouth fashion
My Soule is ravish'd in a pleasant passion.
But looke not Eyes, (as more I would have said)
A sound of ratling Wheeles me all dismaid,
And with the sound forth from the trembling Bushes,
With storme-like course a sumptuous Chariot rushes,
A Chariot all of Gold, the Wheeles were Gold,
The Nailes and Axel Gold on which it roll'd:
The upmost part a Scarlet Vaile did cover,
More rich than Danaes Lap spred with her Lover.
In midst of it in a triumphing Chaire,
A Lady sate miraculously faire,
Whose pensive Countenance, and looks of Honour,
Do more allure the mind that thinketh on Her,
Than the most wanton Face, and amorous Eyes,
That Amathus or flowry Paphos sees,
A Crue of Virgins made a Ring about Her,
The Diamond she they seem the Gold without Her.
Such Thetis is when to the Billows rore
With Mermaids nice she danceth on the Shore:
So in a sable Night the Suns bright Sister
Among the lesser twinckling Lights doth glister
Faire Yoakes of Ermelines whose Colour passe
The whitest Snows on aged Grampius Face,
More swift than Venus Birds this Chariot guided
To the astonish'd Banke, where as it bided:
But long it did not bide, when poore those Streames
Aye me it made, transporting those rich Gemmes,
And by that Burthen lighter, swiftly drived
Till (as me thought) it at a Tow'r arrived:
Upon a Rock of Christall shining cleare
With Diamonds wrought this Castell did appeare,
Who rising spires of Gold so high them reared
That Atlas like it seem'd the Heaven they beared.
Amidst which Hights on Arches did arise
(Arches which guilt Flames brandish to the Skies)
Of sparking Topaces, Proud, Gorgeous, Ample,
(Like to a little Heaven) a sacred Temple.
The Walls no Windows have, nay all the Wall
Is but one Window, Night there doth not fall
More when the Sun to Westerne Worlds declineth,
Than in our Zenith when at Noone He shineth.
Two flaming Hills the passage strait defend
Which to this radiant Building doth ascend,
Upon whose Arching tops on a Pilastre
A Port stands open, rais'd in Loves Disastre
For none that narrow Bridge and gate can passe,
Who have their Faces seen in Venus Glasse.
If those within, but to come forth do venter,
That stately Place againe they never enter.
The Precinct's strengthened with a Ditch of Feares,
In which doth swell a Lake of Inky Teares
Of madding Lovers, who abide their moaning,
And thicken even the Aire with pitious groaning.
This Hold to brave the Skies the Destines fram'd,
And then the Fort of Chastity is nam'd.
The Queen of the third Heaven once to appall it,
The God of Thrace Here brought who could not thrall it;
For which he vow'd ne're Arms more to put on,
And on Riphean Hils was heard to groan.
Here Psyches Lover hurles his Darts at randon,
Which all for nought him serve, as doth his Brandon.
What grievous Agony did invade my Mind?
When in that Place my Hope I saw confin'd,
Where with high-towring Thoughts I only reacht her,
Which did burne up their Wings when they approacht her.
Me thought I set me by a Cypresse shade,
And Night and Day the Hyacinthe there read:
And that bewailing Nightingales did borrow
Plaints of my Plaint, and sorrows of my Sorrow.
My food was Worm-wood, mine own Teares my drinke,
My rest, on Death and sad Mishaps to thinke.
And for such Thoughts to have my Heart enlarged,
And ease mine Eyes with brinie Tribute charged,
Over a Brook I laid my pining Face:
But then the Brooke as griev'd at my Disgrace,
A Face Me shew'd so pin'd, sad, over-clouded,
That at the Sight afray'd mine Eyes them shrowded.
This is the guerdon Love, this is the Game,
In end which to thy Servants doth remaine.
More would I say; when Feare made Sleep to leave me,
And of those fatall Shadows did bereave me.
But ah alas! instead to dreame of Love,
And Woes, I now them in effect did prove:
For what into my troubled Braine was painted,
Awak'd I found that Time and Place presented.