The Third Song

In this third Song, great threatnings are,
And tending all to Nymphish warre.
Old Wansdike vttereth words of hate,
Deprauing Stonendges estate.
Cleere Avon and faire Willy striue,
Each pleading her prerogatiue.
The Plaine the Forrests doth disdaine:
The Forrests raile vpon the Plaine.
The Muse then seekes the Shires extreames,
To find the Fountaine of great Tames;
Falls downe with Avon, and discries
Both Bathes and Bristowes braueries:
Then viewes the Sommersetian soyle;
Through Marshes, Mines, and Mores doth toyle,
To Avalon to Arthurs Graue,
Sadlie bemoa•d of Ochy Caue.
Then with delight shee brauelie brings
The Princely Parret from her Springs:
Preparing for the learned Plea
(The next Song) in the Seuerne Sea.

VP with the iocund Larke (Too long we take our rest.)
Whilst yet the blushing Dawne out of the cheerfull East
Is vshering forth the Day to light the Muse along:
Whose most delightfull touch, and sweetness of her Song,
Shall force the lustie Swaines out of the Country-townes,
To lead the louing Girles in daunces to the Downes.
The Nymphs, in Selwoods shades and Bradens woods that bee,
Their Oaken wreathes, ô Muse, shall offer vp to thee.
And when thou shap'st thy course tow'rds where the soile is rank,
The Sommersetian mayds, by swelling Sabryns bank
Shall strewe the waies with flowers (where thou art comming on)
Brought from the Marshie-grounds by aged Avalon.
From Sarum thus we set, remou'd from whence it stood
By Avon to reside, her deerest loued Flood:
Where her imperious Fane her former seate disdaines,
And proudly ouer-tops the spacious neighboring Plaines.
What pleasures hath this Ile, of vs esteem'd most deere,
In any place, but poore vnto the plentie heere?
The chaulkie Chilteru fields, nor Kelmarsh selfe compares
With Euerley for store and swiftnes of her Hares:
A horse of greater speed, nor yet a righter hound,
Not any where twixt Kent and Calidon is found.
Nor yet the leuell South can shewe a smoother Race,
Whereas the ballow Nag out-strips the winds in chase;
As famous in the West for matches yeerelie tride,
As Garterley, possest of all the Northen pride:
And on his match, as much the Western horseman layes,
As the rank-riding Scots vpon their Gallowayes.
And as the Westerne soyle as sound a Horse doth breed,
As doth the land that lies betwixt the Trent and Tweed:
No Hunter, so, but finds the breeding of the West,
The onely kind of Hounds, for mouth and nostrill best;
That cold doth sildome fret, nor heat doth ouer-haile;
As standing in the Flight, as pleasant on the Traile;
Free hunting, easely checkt, and louing euery Chase;
Straight running, hard, and tough, of reasonable pase:
Not heauie, as that hound which Lancashire doth breed;
Nor as the Northerne kind, so light and hot of speed,
Vpon the cleerer Chase, or on the foyled Traine,
Doth make the sweetest cry, in Wood-land, or on Plaine.
Where she, of all the Plaines of Britaine, that doth beare
The name to be the first (renowned euerie where)
Hath worthily obtaind that Stonendge there should stand:
Shee, first of Plaines; and that, first Wonder of the Land.
Shee Wansdike also winnes, by whom shee is imbrac't,
That in his aged armes doth gird her ampler wast:
Who (for a mightie Mound sith long he did remaine
Betwixt the Mercians rule, and the West-Saxons raigne,
And therefore of his place him selfe hee proudly bare)
Had very oft beene heard with Stonendge to compare;
Whom for a paltry Ditch, when Stonendge pleasd t'vpbraid,
The old man taking heart, thus to that Trophy said;
Dull heape, that thus thy head aboue the rest doost reare,
Precisely yet not know'st who first did place thee there;
But Traytor basely turn'd to Merlins skill doost flie,
And with his Magiques doost thy Makers truth belie:
Conspirator with Time, now growen so meane and poore,
Comparing these his spirits with those that went before;
Yet rather art content thy Builders praise to lose,
Then passed greatnes should thy present wants disclose.
Ill did those mightie men to trust thee with their storie,
That hast forgot their names, who rear'd thee for their glorie:
For all their wondrous cost, thou that hast seru'd them so,
What tis to trust to Tombes, by thee we easely know.
In these invectiues thus whilst W•nsdick doth complaine,
He interrupted is by that imperlous Plaine,
To heare two cry st•ll Floods to court her, that apply
Themselues, which should be seene most gracious in her eye.
First, Willy boasts her selfe more worthy then the other,
And better farre deriu'd: as hauing to her mother
Faire Selwood, and to bring vp Diuer in her traine;
Which, when the envious soile would from her course restraine,
A mile creeps vnder earth, as flying all resort:
And how cleere Nader waits attendance in her Court;
And therefore claimes of right the Plaine should hold her deere,
Which giues that Towne the name; which likewise names the Shire.
The Easterne Avon vaunts, and doth vpon her take
To be the onelie child of shadefull Sauernake,
As Ambrayes ancient flood; her selfe and to enstile
The Stonendges best-lov'd, first wonder of the Ile;
And what (in her behoofe) might any want supply,
Shee vaunts the goodlie seat of famous Salsburie;
Where meeting prettie Bourne, with many a kind embrace,
Betwixt their crystall armes they clip that loued place.
Report, as lately rais'd, vnto these Riuers came,
That Bathes cleere Avon (waxt imperious through her fame)
Their daliance should deride; and that by her disdaine,
Some other smaller Brooks, belonging to the Plaine,
A question seem'd to make, whereas the Shire sent forth
Two Avons, which should be the flood of greatest worth;
This streame, which to the South the Celtick Sea doth get,
Or that which from the North saluteth Somerset.
This when these Riuers heard, that euen but lately stroue
Which best did loue the Plaine, or had the Plaines best loue,
They straight themselues combine: for Willy wiselie waide,
That should her Avon lose the day for want of aide,
If one so great and neere were ouerprest with power,
The Foe (shee beeing lesse) would quicklie her deuour.
As two contentious Kings, that on each little iarre,
Defiances send forth, proclaiming open warre,
Vntill some other Realme, that on their frontires lies,
Be hazarded againe by other enemies,
Doe then betwixt themselues to composition fall,
To countercheck that sword, else like to conquer all:
So falls it with these Floods, that deadlie hate doe beare.
And whilst on either part strong preparations were,
It greatly was suppos'd strange strife would there haue been,
Had not the goodly Plaine (plac't equally betweene)
Fore-warn'd them to desist, and off their purpose brake;
When in behalfe of Plaines thus (gloriously) she spake;
Away yee barb'rous Woods; How euer yee be plac't
On Mountaines, or in Dales, or happily be grac't
With floods, or marshie fels, with pasture, or with earth
By nature made to till, that by the yeerely birth
The large-bay'd Barne doth fill, yea though the fruitfulst ground.
For, in respect of Plaines, what pleasure can be found
In darke and sleepie shades? where mists and rotten fogs
Hang in the gloomie thicks, and make vnstedfast bogs,
By dropping from the boughs, the o're-growen trees among,
With Caterpillers kells, and duskie cobwebs hong.
The deadlie Screech-owle sits, in gloomie couert hid:
Whereas the smooth-brow'd Plaine, as liberallie doth bid
The Larke to leaue her Bowre, and on her trembling wing
In climing vp tow'rds heauen, her high-pitcht Hymnes to sing
Vnto the springing Day; when gainst the Sunnes arise
The earlie Dawning strowes the goodly Easterne skies
With Roses euery where: who scarcelie lifts his head
To view this vpper world, but hee his beames doth spred
Vpon the goodlie Plaines; yet at his Noonesteds hight,
Doth scarcelie pierce the Brake with his farre-shooting sight.
The gentle Shepheards heer survay their gentler sheepe:
Amongst the bushie woods luxurious Satyrs keepe.
To these braue sports of field, who with desire is wonne,
To see his Grey-hound course, his Horse (in diet) runne,
His deepe mouth'd Hound to hunt, his long-wingd Haulk to flie,
To these most noble sports his mind who doth apply,
Resorts vnto the Plaines. And not a foughten Field,
Where Kingdoms rights haue laine vpon the speare and shield,
But Plaines haue beene the place; and all those Trophies hie
That ancient times haue rear'd to noble memorie:
As, Stonendge, that to tell the British Princes slaine
By those false Saxons fraud, here euer shall remaine.
It was vpon the Plaine of Mamre (to the fame
Of mee and all our kind) whereas the Angels came
To Abraham in his Tent, and there with him did feed;
To Sara his deere wife then promising the seed
By whom all Nations should so highly honor'd bee,
In which the Sonne of God they in the flesh should see.
But Forests, to your plague there soone will come an Age,
In which all damned sinnes most vehemently shall rage.
An Age! what haue I said! nay, Ages there shall rise,
So senselesse of the good of their posterities,
That of your greatest Groues they scarce shall leaue a tree
(By which the harmelesse Deere may after sheltred bee)
Their luxurie and pride but onely to maintaine,
And for your long excesse shall turne ye all to paine.
Thus ending; though some h•ls themselues that doe applie
To please the goodly Plaine, still standing in her eie,
Did much applaud her speech (as Haradon, whose head
Old Ambry still doth awe, and Bagdon from his sted,
Suruaying of the Vies, whose likings do allure
Both Ouldbry and Saint Anne; and they againe procure
Mount Marting-sall: and he those hils that stand aloofe,
Those brothers Barbury, and Badbury, whose proofe
Addes much vnto her praise) yet in most high disdaine,
The Forrests take her words, and sweare the prating Plaine
Growne old began to doate: and Sauernake so much
Is galled with her taunts (whom they so nearely touch)
That she in spitefull tearmes defies her to her face;
And Aldburne with the rest, though being but a Chase,
At worse then nought her sets: but Bradon all afloate
When it was tolde to her, set open such a throate,
That all the countrey rang. She cals her barren Iade,
Base Queane, and riv'ld Witch, and wisht she could be made
But worthy of her hate (which most of all her grieues)
The basest beggers Baude, a harborer of theeues.
Then Peusham, and with her old Blackmore (not behinde)
Do wish that from the Seas some soultrie Southerne winde,
The foule infectious damps, and poisned aires would sweepe,
And poure them on the Plaine, to rot her and her Sheepe.
But whilst the sportiue Muse delights her with these things,
She strangely taken is with those delicious Springs
Of Kenet rising here, and of the nobler Streame
Of Isis setting forth vpon her way to Tame,
By Greeklade; whose great name yet vaunts that learned tong,
Where to great Britaine first the sacred Muses song;
Which first were seated here, at Isis bountious head,
As telling that her fame should through the world be spread;
And tempted by this flood, to Oxford after came,
There likewise to delight her bridegroome, louely Tame:
Whose beautie when they saw, so much they did adore,
That Greeklade they forsooke, and would goe backe no more.
Then Bradon gently brings forth Avon from her source:
Which Southward making soone in her most quiet course,
Receiues the gentle Calne: when on her rising side,
First Blackmoore crownes her banke, as Peusham with her pride
Sets out her murmuring sholes, till (turning to the West)
Her, Somerset receiues, with all the bounties blest
That Nature can produce in that Bathonian Spring,
Which from the Sulphury Mines her med'cionll force doth bring;
As Physick hath found out by colour, taste, and smell,
Which taught the world at first the vertue of that Well;
What quickliest it could cure: which men of knowledge drew
From that first minerall cause: but some that little knew
(Yet felt the great effects continually it wrought)
Ascrib'd it to that skill, which Blod•d hither brought,
As by that learned King the Bathes should be begunne;
Not from the quickned Mine, by the begetting, Sunne
Giuing that naturall power, which by the vig'rous sweate,
Doth lend the liuely Springs their perdurable heate
In passing through the veines, where matter doth not need;
Which in that minerous earth insep'rably doth breed:
So nature hath puruai'd, that during all her raigne
The Bathes their natiue power for euer shall retaine:
Where Time that Citie built, which to her greater fame,
Preseruing of that Spring, participates her name;
The Tutilage whereof (as those past worlds did please)
Some to Minerua gaue and some to Hercules:
Proud Phoebus loued Spring, in whose Diurnall course,
When on this point of earth he bends his greatest force,
By his so strong approach, prouokes her to desire;
Stung with the kindly rage of loues impatient fire:
Which boiling in her wombe, proiects (as to a birth)
Such matter as she takes from the grosse humorous earth;
Till purg'd of dregs and slime, and her complexion cleere,
She smileth on the light, and lookes with mirthfull cheere.
Then came the lustie Froome, the first of floods that met
Faire Avon entring in to fruitfull Somerset,
With her attending Brooks; and her to Bathe doth bring,
Much honoured by that place, Minerua's sacred Spring.
To noble Avon, next, cleere Chute as kindly came,
To Bristow her to beare, the fairest seat of Fame:
To entertaine this flood, as great a mind that hath,
And striuing in that kind farre to excell the Bath.
As when some wealthy Lord, prepares to entertaine
A man of high account, and feast his gallant traine;
Of him that did the like, doth seriously enquire
His diet, his deuice, his seruice, his attire;
That varying euery thing (exampled by his store)
He euerie way may passe what th'other did before:
Euen so this Citie doth; the prospect of which place
To her faire building addes an admirable grace;
Well fashioned as the best, and with a double wall,
As braue as any Towne; but yet excelling all
For casement, that to health is requisit and meete;
Her piled shores, to keepe her delicate and sweete:
Hereto, she hath her Tides; that when she is opprest
With heat or drought, still poure their floods vpon her breast.
To Mendip then the Muse vpon the South inclines,
Which is the onely store, and Coffer of her Mines:
Elsewhere the Fields and Meades their sundry traffiques suit:
The Forrests yeeld her wood, the Orchards giue her fruit.
As in some rich mans house his seuerall charges lie,
There stands his Wardrobe, here remaines his Treasurie;
His large prouision there, of Fish, of Fowl, and Neat;
His Cellars for his Wines, his Larders for his meate;
There Banquet houses, Walkes for pleasure; here againe
Cribs, Graners, Stables, Barnes, the other to maintaine:
So this rich countrey hath, it selfe what may suffice;
Or that which through exchange a smaller want supplies:
Yet Ochyes dreadfull Hole still held her selfe disgrac't,
With th'wonders of this Ile that she should not be plac't:
But that which vext her most, was, that the Peakish Caue
Before her darkesome selfe such dignitie should haue;
And th'Wyches for their Salts such state on them should take;
Or Cheshire should preferre her sad Death-boding-lake;
And Stonendge in the world should get so high respect,
Which imitating Arte but idly did erect:
And that amongst the rest, the vaine inconstant Dee,
By changing of his Foards, for one should reckond bee;
As of another sort, wood turn'd to stone; among,
Th'anatomized Fish, and Fowles from planchers sprong:
And on the Cambrian side those strange and wondrous Springs,
Our beasts that seldome drinke; a thousand other things
Which Ochy inly vext, that they to fame should mount,
And greatly griev'd her friends for her so small account;
That there was scarcely Rock, or Riuer, Marsh, or Meare
That held not Ochyes wrongs (for all held Ochy deare)
In great and high disdaine: and Froome for her disgrace
Since scarcely euer washt the Colesleck from her face;
But (melancholy growne) to Avon gets a path,
Through sickeness forc't to seeke for cure vnto the Bath:
And Chedder for meere griefe his teene he could not wreake,
Gusht forth so forcefull streames, that he was like to brea••
The greater bankes of Ax, as from his mothers Caue,
He wandred towards the Sea; for madnesse who doth raue
At his drad mothers wrong: but who so wo begon
For Ochy, as the Ile of ancient Aualon?
Who hauing in her selfe, as inward cause of griefe,
Neglecteth yet her owne, to giue her friend reliefe.
The other so againe for her doth sorrow make,
And in the Iles behalfe the dreadfull Cauerne spake;
O three times famous Ile, where is that place that might
Be with thy selfe compar'd for glorie and delight,
Whilst Glastenbury stood? exalted to that pride,
Whose Monasterie seem'd all other to deride?
O who thy ruine sees, whom wonder doth not fill
With our great fathers pompe, deuotion, and their skill?
Thou more then mortall power (this iudgement rightly wai'd)
Then present to assist, at that foundation lai'd;
On whom for this sad waste, should Iustice lay the crime?
Is there a power in Fate, or doth it yeeld to Time?
Or was their error such, that thou could'st not protect
Those buildings which thy hand did with their zeale erect?
To whom didst thou commit that monument, to keepe,
That suffreth with the dead their memory to sleepe?
When not great Arthurs Tombe, not holy Iosephs Graue,
From sacriledge had power their sacred bones to saue;
He who that God in man to his sepulchre brought,
Or he which for the faith twelue famous battels fought.
What? Did so many Kings do honor to that place,
For Auarice at last so vilely to deface?
For reu'rence, to that seat which hath ascribed beene,
Trees yet in winter bloome, and beare their Summers greene.
This said, she many a sigh from her full stomacke cast,
Which issued through her breast in many a boystrous blast;
And with such floods of teares her sorrowes doth condole,
As into riuers turne within that darkesome hole:
Like sorrow for her selfe, this goodly Ile doth trie;
Imbrac't by Selwoods sonne, her flood the louely Bry,
On whom the Fates bestow'd (when he conceiued was)
He should be much belou'd of many a daintie Lasse;
Who giues all leaue to like, yet of them liketh none:
But his affection sets on beautious Aualon;
Though many a plump-thigh'd moore, & ful-flanck't marsh do proue
To force his chaste desires, so dainty of his loue.
First Sedgemore shewes this floud, her bosome all vnbrac't,
And casts her wanton armes about his slender wast:
Her louer to obtaine, so amorous Audry seekes:
And Gedney softly steales sweet kisses from his cheekes.
One takes him by the hand, intreating him to stay:
Another pluckes him backe, when he would faine away:
But, hauing caught at, length, whom long he did pursue,
Is so intranc't with loue, her goodly parts to view,
That altring quite his shape, to her he doth appeare,
And casts his crystall selfe into an ample Meare:
But for his greater growth when needs he must depart,
And forc't to leaue his Loue (though with a heauie hart)
As hee his back doth turne, and is departing out,
The batning marshie Brent enuirons him about:
But lothing her imbrace, away in haste he flings,
And in the Seuerne Sea surrounds his plentious Springs.
But, dallying in this place so long why doost thou dwell,
So many sundry things here hauing yet to tell?
Occasion calls the Muse her pynions to prepare.
Which (striking with the wind the vast and open aire)
Now, in the finnie Heaths, then in the Champains roues;
Now, measures out this Plaine; and then survayes those groues;
The batfull pastures fenc't, and most with quickset mound,
The sundry sorts of soyle, diuersitie of ground;
Where Plow-men cleanse the Earth of rubbish, weed, and filth,
And giue the fallow lands their seasons and their tylth:
Where, best for breeding horse; where cattell fitst to keepe;
Which good for bearing Corne; which pasturing for sheepe:
The leane and hungry earth, the fat and marly mold,
Where sands be alwaies hot, and where the clayes be cold;
With plentie where they waste, some others toucht with want:
Heere set, and there they sowe; here proine, and there they plant.
As Wiltshire is a place best pleas'd with that resort
Which spend away the time continuallie in sport;
So Somerset, her selfe to profit doth apply,
As giuen all to gaine, and thriuing huswifrie.
For, whereas in a Land one doth consume and wast,
Tis fit another be to gather in as fast:
This liketh moorie plots, delights in sedgie Bowres,
The grassy garlands loues, and oft attyr'd with flowres
Of ranke and mellow gleabe; a sward as soft as wooll,
With her complexion strong, a belly plumpe and full.
Thus whilst the actiue Muse straines out these various things,
Cleere Parret makes approach, with all those plentious Springs
Her fruitful banks that blesse; by whose Monarchall sway,
Shee fortifies her selfe against that mightie day
Wherein her vtmost power she should be forc't to try.
For, from the Druides time there was a prophecie,
That there should come a day (which now was neere at hand
By all forerunning signes) that on the Easterne Strand,
If Parret stood not fast vpon the English side,
They all should be supprest: and by the British pride
In cunning ouer-come; for why, impartiall Fate
(Yet constant alwaies to the Britains crazed state)
Forbad they yet should fall; by whom she meant to showe
How much the present Age, and after-times should owe
Vnto the line of Brute. Cleere Parret therefore prest
Her tributarie Streames, and whollie her addrest
Against the ancient Foe: First, calling to her ayde
Two Riuers of one name; which seeme as though they stayd
Their Empresse as she went, her either hand that take.
The first vpon the right, as from her source, doth make
Large Muchelney an Ile, and vnto Ivell lends
Her hardlie-rendred name: That on her left, descends
From Neroch's neighboring woods; which, of that Forest borne,
Her riualls proffered grace opprobriously doth scorne.
Shee by her wandring course doth Athelney in-Ile:
And for the greater state, herselfe she doth instile
The nearest neighbouring flood to Arthurs ancient seat,
Which made the Britaines name through all the world so great.
Like Camelot, what place, was euer yet renownd?
Where, as at Carlion, oft, hee kept the Table-round,
Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long,
From whence all Knightlie deeds, and braue atchieuements sprong.
As some soft-sliding Rill, which from a lesser head
(Yet in his going forth, by many a Fountaine fed)
Extends it selfe at length vnto a goodly streame:
So, almost through the world his fame flew from this Realme;
That iustlie I may charge those ancient Bards of wrong,
So idly to neglect his glorie in their Song.
For some aboundant braine, ô there had been a storie
Beyond the Blind-mans might to haue inhanc't our glorie.
Tow'rds the Sabrinian Sea then Parret setting on,
To her attendance next comes in the beautious Tone,
Crown'd with embroidred banks, and gorgeously arraid
With all th'enamild flowers of manie a goodly Mead:
In Orchards richly clad; whose proud aspyring boughes
Euen of the tallest woods doe scorne a iote to loose,
Though Selwoods mighty selfe and Neroch standing by:
The sweetnes of her soyle through euery Coast doth fly.
What eare so empty is, that hath not heard the sound
Of Tauntons fruitfull Deane? not matcht by any ground;
By Athelney ador'd, a neighbourer to her Land;
Whereas those higher hills to view faire Tone that stand,
Her coadiuting Springs with much content behold:
Where Sea-ward Quantock stands as Neptune he controld,
And Blackdown In-land borne, a Mountain and a Mound,
As though he stood to look about the Country round:
But Parret as a Prince, attended heere the while,
Inricht with euery Moore, and euery In-land Ile,
Vpon her taketh State, well forward tow'rds her fall,
Whom lastly yet to grace, and not the least of all,
Comes in the liuely Carre, a Nymph, most louely cleere,
From Somerton sent downe the Soueraigne of the Sheere;
Which makes our Parret proude. And wallowing in excesse,
Whilst like a Prince she vaunts amid the watry presse,
The breathlesse Muse awhile her wearied wings shall ease,
To get her strength to stem the rough Sabrinian Seas.