The Sixth Song

With Cardigan the Muse proceeds,
And tells what rare things Tivy breeds:
Next, proud Plynillimon shee plyes;
Where Severne, Wy, and Rydoll rise.
With Severne shee along doth goe,
Her Metamorphosis to showe;
And makes the wandring Wy declame
In honour of the British name:
Then m•sters all the watry traine
That those two Riuers entertaine:
And viewing how those Rillets creepe
From shore to the Vergiuian Deepe,
By Radnor and Mountgomery then
To Severne turnes her course agen:
And bringing all their Riuerets in,
There ends; a new Song to begin.

SIth I must stem thy Streame, cleere Tivy, yet before
The Muse vouchsafe to seise the Cardiganian shore,
Shee of thy sourse will sing in all the Cambrian coast;
Which of thy Castors once, but now canst onelie boast
The Salmons, of all Floods most plentifull in thee.
Deere Brooke, within thy Banks if anie Powers there bee;
Then Neiads, or yee Nymphs of their like watrie kind
(Vnto whose onelie care, great Neptune hath assign'd
The guidance of those Brooks wherein he takes delight)
Assist her: and whilst shee your dwelling shall recite,
Be present in her work: set her your graces view,
That to succeeding times them liuelie shee may shew;
As when great Albions sonnes, which him a Sea-Nymph brought
Amongst the grisly Rocks, were with your beauties caught
(Whose onelie loue surpriz'd those of the Phlegrian size,
The Titan•is, that once against high Heauen durst rise)
When as the hoarie woods, the climing hills did hide,
And couer'd euerie Vale through which you gentlie glide;
Euen for those inly heats which through your loues they felt,
That oft in kindlie teares did in your bosomes melt,
To view your secret Bowres, such fauour let her win.
Then Tivy commeth downe from her capacious Li•,
Twixt Mirk and Brenny led, two handmaids, that doe stay
Their Mistres, as in State shee goes vpon her way.
Which when Lanbeder sees, her wondrouslie shee likes:
Whose vntam'd bosome so the beautious Tivy strikes,
As that the Forrest faine would haue her there abide.
But shee (so pure a streame) transported with her pride
The offer idlie scorns; though with her flattering shade
The Syluan her entice with all that may perswade
A water-Nymph; yea, though great Thetis •elfe shee were:
But nothing might preuaile, nor all the pleasures there
Her mind could euer moue one minutes sta•e to make.
Mild Mathern then, the next, doth Tivy ouer-take:
Which instantlie againe by Dittor is suppli'd.
Then, Keach and Kerry helpe: twixt which on either side,
To Cardigan shee comes, the Soueraigne of the Shere.
Now Tivy let vs tell thy sundrie glories here.
When as the Salmon seekes a fresher streame to find
(Which hither from the Sea comes yeerely by his kind,
As he in season growes) and stems the watry tract
Where Tivy falling downe, doth make a Cataract,
Forc't by the rising Rocks that there her course oppose,
As though within their bounds they meant her to inclose;
Heere, when the labouring Fish doth at the foote arriue,
And finds that by his strength but vainlie he doth striue,
His taile takes in his teeth; and bending like a bowe,
That's to the compasse drawne, aloft himself doth throwe,
Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand,
That bended end to end, and fler•ed from the hand,
Farre off it selfe doth cast; so doth the Salmon ••ut.
And if at first he faile, his second Summersau•
Hee instantlie assaies; and from his nimble Ring,
Still yarking, neuer leaues, vntill himselfe he f••ng,
Aboue the streamefull top of the surrounded heape.
More famous long agone, then for the Salmons leape,
For Beuers Tivy was, in her strong banks that bred,
Which else no other Brooke of Brittaine nourished:
Where Nature, in the shape of this now-perisht beast
His propertie did seeme t'haue wondrouslie exprest;
Be'ing bodied like a Boat, with such a mightie taile
As seru'd him for a bridge, a helme, or for a saile,
When Kind did him commaund the Architect to play,
That his strong Castle built of branched twigs and clay:
Which, set vpon the Deepe, but yet not fixed there,
Hee easelie could remoue as it he ple••'d to stere
To this side or to that; the workmanship so rare,
His stuffe where-with to build, first beeing to prepare,
A forraging he goes, to Groues or bushes •ie,
And with his teeth cut• downe his Timber: which laid-by,
He turnes him on his back, his belly laid abroad,
When with what he hath got, the other doe him load,
Till lastlie by the weight, his burthen hee haue found.
Then, with his mightie taile his carriage hauing bound
As Carters doe with ropes, in his sharpe teeth hee grip't
Some stronger stick: from which the lesser branches stript,
He takes it in the midst; at both the ends, the rest
Hard holding with their fangs, vnto the labour prest,
Going backward, tow'rds their home their loaded carriage led,
From whom, those first heere borne, were taught the vsefull Sled.
Then builded he his Fort with strong and seueral fights,
His passages contriu'd with such vnvsuall sleights,
That from the Hunter oft he issu'd vndiscern'd,
As if men from this Beast to fortifie had learn'd;
Whose Kind, in he• decay'd, is to this Ile vnknowne.
Thus Tivy boasts this Beast peculiarly her owne.
But here why spend fume these trifles to a r•ed?
Now, with thy former •aske my Muse againe proceed,
To shewe the other Floods from the Cere•tick shore
To the Verginian Sea contributing their store:
With Bidder first begin, that bendeth all her force
The Arron to assist, Arth holding on her course
The way the other went, with Werry which doth win
Faire Istwid to her ayde, who kindlie comming in,
Meets Rydoll at her mouth, that […] and princesse maid,
Plynillimons deere child, delicious•ie afraid,
As fits a Nymph so neere to Severne and her Queene.
Then come the sister […] as they before had seene
Those delicater Dames so trippinglie to read:
Then Kerry; Cletur next, and […] making head
With Enion, that her […] c•eere […] brings by her.
Plynillimons high praise no longer Muse defer,
What once the Druids told, how great those Floods should bee
That here (most mightie Hill) […] themselues from […].
The Bards with furie rap•, the British youth among,
Vnto the charming Harpe thy future honor song
In braue and loftie straine•; that in excesse of ioy,
The Beldam and the Girle, the Grand••re and the Boy,
With shouts and yearning cries, the troubled ayre did load
(As when with crowned cuppes vnto the Elian God
Those Priests his Orgyes held, or when the old world saw
Full Phoebes face eclipst, and thinking her to daw,
Whom they supposed fal•e in some inchanted swound,
Of beaten tinkling Brasse still ply'd her with the sound)
That all the Cambrian hills, which high'st their heads doe beare
With most obsequious showes of lowe subiected feare,
Should to thy greatnes stoupe: and all the Brooks that be,
Doe homage to those Floods that issued out of thee:
To princelie Severne first; next, to her sister Wy•,
Which to her elders Court her course doth still apply.
But Rydoll, young'st, and least, and for the others pride
Not finding fitting roomth vpon the rising side,
Alone vnto the West directlie takes her way.
So all the neighboring Hills Plynillimon obey.
For, though Moylo•dian beare his craggy top so hie,
As scorning all that come in compasse of his eye,
Yet greatlie is he pleas'd Plynillimon will grace
Him with a cheerfull looke: and fawning in his face,
His loue to Severne showes us though his owne she were,
Thus comforting the Flood; O euer-during heire
Of Sabrine, Locryns child (who of her life bereft,
Her euer-liuing name to thee faire Riuer left)
Brutes first begotten sonne, which Gwendeli• did wed;
But soone th'vnconstant Lord abandoned her bed
(Through his vnchaste desire) for beautious El•treds loue,
Now, that which most of all her mightie hart did moue,
Her Father, Cornwalls Duke, great Corineus dead,
Was by the lustfull King vniustlie banished,
When shee, who to that time still with a smoothed brow
Had seem'd to beare the breach of Locrines former vow,
Perceiuing stil her wrongs insufferable w•re;
Growne bigge with the reuenge which her full breast did beare,
And ayded to the birth with euery little breath
(Alone shee beeing left the spoyle of loue and death,
In labour of her griefe outrageously distract,
The vtmost of her spleene on her false Lord to act)
Shee first implores their aid• no hat• him whom shee found,
Whose harts vnto the depth she had not left to sound.
To Cornwall then shee sends her Country) for supplies,
Which all at ouer in Armes with Gwend•lin arise.
Then with her warlike power, her husband shee pursu'd,
Whom his vnlawfull loue too vainlie did delude.
The fierce and iealous Queene, then voyde of all remorce,
As great in power or spirit, whilst hee neglects her force,
Him suddainlie surpriz'd, and from her irefull hart
All pittie cleane exil'd (whom nothing could conuert)
The sonne of mightie Brute bereaued of his life;
Amongst the Britans here the first intestine strife,
Since they were put a land vpon this promis'd shore.
Then crowning Madan King, whom shee to Locrine bore,
And those which seru'd his Sire to his obedience brought;
Not so with blood suffic'd, immediatly she sought
The mother and the child: whose beautie when shee saw,
Had not her hart been flint, had had the power to draw
A spring of pittying teares; when, dropping liquid pearle,
Before the cruell Queene, the Ladie and the Girle
Vpon their tender knees begg'd mercie. Woe for thee
Faire Elstred, that thou should'st thy fairer Sabrine see,
As shee should thee behold the prey to her sterne rage
Whom kinglie L••rius death suffic'd not to asswage:
Who from the bordring Cleeues thee with thy Mother cast
Into thy christned Flood, the whilst the Rocks aghast
Resounded with your shriekes; till in a deadlie dreame
Your corses were dissolu'd into that crystall streame,
Your curles to curled waues, which plainlie still appeare
The same in water •ow, that once in locks they were:
And, as you wont to clip each others neck before,
Yee now with liquid armes embrace the w•ndring shore.
But leaue we Severne heere, a little on pursue,
The often wandring Wye (her passages to view,
As wantonlie shee straines in her lasciuious course)
And muster euery flood that from her bountious sourse
Attends vpon her Streame, whilst (as the famous bound
Twixt the Brecknokia• earth, and the Radnorian ground)
Shee euery Brooke receiues, First, […] commeth in,
With Cl•rwy: which to them their consort Eland win
To ayde their goodly Wye, which […] gets againe,
She Dulas drawes along: and in her watry traine
Clow•d••• hath recourse, and […], which she brings
Vnto their wandring flood from the Radnorian Springs:
As Edwy her attends and […] forward heaue•
Her Mistresse. When at last the goodly Wye per••aues
Shee now was in that part of Wales, of all the rest
Which (as her very waste) in breadth from East to West,
In length from North to South, her midst is euery way,
From Severns bordring banks into the either Sea,
Which shee might tearme the ham. The ancient Britans heere
The Riuer calls to mind, and what those British were
Whilst Britain was her selfe, the Queene of all the West.
To whose old Nations praise whilst shee herselfe addrest,
From the Brecknokian bound when Irvon comming in,
Her Dulas, with Commarch, and Weuery that doth win,
Perswading her for them good matter to prouide.
The Wood-Nymphs so againe, from the Radnorian side,
As Radnor, with Blethaugh, and Kn•ckles Forrests, call
To Wye, and bad her now bestirre her for them all:
For, if shee stuck not close in their distressed Case,
The Britans were in doubt to vnder-goe disgrace.
That stronglie thus prouok't, shee for the Britans saies;
What spirit can lift you vp, to that immortall praise
You worthilie deserue? by whom first Gaul was taught
Her knowledge: and for her, what Nation euer wrought
The conquest you atchieu'd? And, as you were most drad,
So yee (before the rest) in so great reuerence had
Your Bards which sung your deeds, that whē sterne hosts haue stood
With lifted hands to strike (in their inflamed blood)
One Bard but comming in, their murd'rous swords hath staid;
In her most dreadful voice as thundring heauen had said,
Stay Britans: when he spake, his words so powrefull were.
So to her natiue Priests, the dreadlesse Druides here,
The neerest neighboring Gaul, that wiselie could discerne
Th'effect their doctrine wrought, it for their good to learne,
Her apt and pregnant Youth sent hither yeere by yeere,
Instructed in our Rites with […] religious feare.
And afterward againe, when […] ancient fear
Her surcrease could not keepe, […] for her soile too great
(But like to casting Bees, so rising v• in swarmes)
Our Cymbri with the Gaules, that their committed Armes
Ioyn'd with the German powers (th••• Nations of the North
Which ouer-spread the world) together issued forth:
Where, with our brazen swords, we sto••ly fought, and long;
And after Conque••• go•, residing them among,
First planted in those parts our bra•e courageous b•ood:
Whose natures so adher'd vnto their ancient blood,
As from them spr•ng those Pries••, whose praise so farre did sound,
Through whom that spacious Gaul was after […]
Nor could the Saxons swords (which many a lingring yeere
Them sadlie did afflict, and •hat vs Britans he•re
Twixt Severne and this Sea) our mightie mind• […];
But that euen they which […] our weaknes would detect,
Were forced to confesse, our wildest beasts that ••eed
Vpon our mightie waste•, or on our Mountaines feed,
Were farre more sooner tam'd, […] our Welch-men […],
Besides, in all the world •o Nation is so deere.
As they vnto their owne; that here within this Ile,
Or else in forraine parts, yea•, […] to exile,
The noble Britan still his countryman releeues;
A Patriot, and so true, that it to death him greeues
To heare his Wales disgrac't: and on the Saxons swords
Oft hazardeth his life, ere with reprochefull words
His Language or his Leeke hee'le stand to heare abus'd.
Besides, the Britan is so naturallie infus'd
With true Poëtick rage, that in their measures, Art
Doth rather seeme precise, then comlie; in each part
Their Metre most exact, in Verse of th'hardest kind.
And some to riming be so wondrouslie inclin'd,
Those Numbers they will hit, out of their genuine vaine,
Which many wise and learn'd can hardly creattaine.
O memorable Bards, of vnmixt blood, which still
Posteritie shall praise for your so wondrous skill,
That in your noble Songs, the long Descents haue kept
Of your great Heroës, else in Lethe that had slept,
With theirs whose ignorant pride your labours haue disdain'd;
How much from time, and them, how brauelie haue you gain'd!
Musician, Herault, Bard, thrice maist thou be renown'd,
And with three seuerall wreathes immortallie be crown'd;
Who, when to Penbrooke call'd before the English King,
And to thy powerfull Harpe commaunded there to sing,
Of famous Arthur told'st, and where hee was interr'd;
In which, those retchlesse times had long and blindlie err'd,
And Ignorance had brought the world to such a pass
As now, which scarce beleeues that Arthur euer was.
But when King Henry sent th'reported place to view,
He found that man of men: and what thou said'st was true.
Heere then I cannot chuse but bitterlie exclame
Against those fooles that all Antiquitie defame,
Because they haue found out, some credulous Ages layd
Slight fictions with the truth, whilst truth on rumor stayd;
And that one forward Time (perceiuing the neglect
A former of her had) to purchase her respect,
With toyes then trimd her vp, the drowsie world t'allure,
And lent her what it thought might appetite procure
To man, whose mind doth still varietie pursue;
And therefore to those things whose grounds were verie true,
Though naked yet and bare (not hauing to content
The weyward curious eare) gaue fictiue ornament;
And fitter thought, the truth they should in question call,
Then coldlie sparing that, the truth should goe and all.
And surelie I suppose, that which this froward time
Doth scandalize her with to be her heynous crime,
That hath her most preseru'd: for, still where wit hath found
A thing most cleerlie true, it made that, fictions ground:
Which shee suppos'd might giue sure colour to them both:
From which, as from a roote, this wondred error grow'th
At which our Criticks gird, whose iudgements are so strict,
And he the brauest man who most can contradict
That which decrepit Age (which forced is to leane
Vpon Tradition) tells; esteeming it so meane,
As they it quite reiect, and for some trifling thing
(Which Time hath pind to Truth) they all away will fling.
These men (for all the world) like our Precisions bee,
Who for some Crosse or Saint they in the window see
Will pluck downe all the Church: Soule-blinded sots that creepe
In durt, and neuer saw the wonders of the Deepe.
Therefore (in my conceit) most rightlie seru'd are they
That to the Roman trust (on his report that stay)
Our truth from him to learne, as ignorant of ours
As we were then of his; except t'were of his powers:
Who our wise Druides here vnmercifullie slew;
Like whom, great Natures depths no men yet euer knew,
Nor with such dauntlesse spirits were euer yet inspir'd;
Who at their proud arriue th'ambitious Romans fir'd
When first they heard them preach the soules immortall state;
And euen in Romes despight, and in contempt of Fate,
Graspt hands with horrid death: which out of hate and pride
They slew, who through the world were reuerenced beside.
To vnderstand our state, no maruaile then though wee
Should so to Caesar seeke, in his reports to see
What ancientlie we were; when in our infant war,
Vnskilfull of our tongue but by Interpreter,
Hee nothing had of ours which our great Bards did sing,
Except some few poore words; and those againe to bring
Vnto the Latine sounds, and easiness they vs'd,
By their most filed speech, our British most abus'd.
But of our former state, beginning, our descent,
The warres we had at home, the conquests where we went,
He neuer vnderstood. And though the Romans here
So noble Trophies left, as verie worthie were
A people great as they, yet did they ours neglect,
Long rear'd ere they arriu'd. And where they doe obiect,
The Ruines and Records we show, be verie small
To proue our selues so great: euen this the most of all
(Gainst their obiection) seemes miraculous to mee,
That yet those should be found so generall as they bee;
The Roman, next the Pict, the Saxon, then the Dane,
All landing in this Ile, each like a horrid raine
Deforming her; besides the sacrilegious wrack
Of many a noble Booke, as impious hands should sack
The Center, to extirp all knowledge, and exile
All braue and ancient things, for euer from this Ile:
Expressing wondrous griefe, thus wandring Wye did sing.
But, backe, industrious Muse; obsequiously to bring
Cleere Seuerne from her sourse, and tell how she doth straine
Downe her delicious Dales; with all the goodly traine,
Brought forth the first of all by Brugan: which to make
Her party worthy note, next, Dulas in doth take.
Moylvadian his much loue to Seuerne then to showe,
Vpon her Southerne side, sends likewise (in a rowe)
Bright Biga, that brings on her friend and fellow Floyd;
Next, Dungum; Bacho then is busily imploy'd,
Tarranon, Carno, Hawes, with Bec•n, and the Rue,
In Seuern's soueraine Bankes, that giue attendance due.
Thus as she swoopes along, with all that goodly traine,
Vpon her other Banke by Newtowne: so againe
Comes Dulas (of whose name so many Riuers bee,
As of none others is) with Mule, prepar'd to see
The confluence to their Queene, as on her course she makes:
Then at Mountgomery next cleere Kennet in she takes;
Where little Fledding fals into her broader Banke;
Forkt Vurnway, bringing Tur, and Tanot: growing ranke,
She plyes her towards the Poole, from the Gomerian feelds;
Then which in all our Wales, there is no country yeelds
An excellenter Horse, so full of naturall fire,
As one of Phoebus Steeds had beene that Stalyons •ire
Which first their race begun; or of th'Asturian kind,
Which some haue held to be begotten by the Wind,
Vpon the Mountaine Mare; which strongly it receaues,
And in a little time her pregnant part vpheaues.
But, leaue we this to such as after wonders long:
The Muse prepares herselfe vnto another Song.