The Seventh Song

The Muse from Cambria comes againe,
To view the Forrest of faire Deane;
Sees Severne; when the Higre takes her,
How Feuer-like the sicknes shakes her;
Makes mightie Maluerne speake his mind
In honour of the Mountaine kind;
Thence wasted with a merry gale,
Sees Lemster, and the Golden Vale;
Sports with the Nymphs, themselues that ply
At th'wedding of the Lug and Wy;
Viewing the Herefordian pride
Along on Severns setting side,
That small Wigornian part suruaies:
Where for a while herselfe shee staies.

HIgh matters call our Muse, inviting her to see
As well the lower Lands, as those were latelie shee
The Cambrian Mountaines clome, & (looking from aloft)
Survaid coy Severns course: but now to shores more soft
Shee shapes her prosperous saile; and in this loftie Song,
The Herefordian floods invites with her along,
That fraught from plentious Powse, with their superfluous waste,
Manure the batfull Mar•h, vntill they be imbrac't
In Sabrins Soueraigne armes: with whose tumultuous waues
Shut vp in narrower bounds, the Higre wildly raues;
And frights the strugling flocks, the neighbouring shores to flie,
A farre as from the Maine it comes with hideous cry,
And on the angry front the curled foame doth bring,
The billowes gainst the banks when fiercely it doth fling;
Hurles vp the slimie ooze, and makes the scalie brood
Leape madding to the Land affrighted from the flood;
O returnes the toyling Bargē, whose steresman doth not lanch,
And thrusts the furrowing beake into her irefull panch:
As when we haplie see a sicklie woman fall
Into a fit of that when wee the Mother call,
When from the grieued wombe shee feeles the paine arise,
Breakes into grieuous sighes, with intermixed cries,
Bereaued of her sense, and strugling still with those
That gainst her rising palne their vtmost strength oppose,
Starts, tosses, tumbles, strikes, turnes, touses, spurnes and spraules,
Casting with furious lims her holders to the walles;
But that the horrid pangs torments the grie•ed so,
One well might muse frō whence this suddaine strength should grow.
Here (Queene of Forrests all, that West of Severne lie)
Her broad and bushie top Deane holdeth vp so hie,
The lesser are not seene, shee is so tall and large.
And standing in such state vpon the winding marge,
Within her hollow woods the Satyres that did wonne
In gloomie secret shades, not pierct with Sommers sunne,
Vnder a false pretence the Nymphs to entertaine,
Oft rauished the choice of Sabrius watry traine;
And from their Mistris banks them taking as a prey,
Vnto their wooddie Caues haue carried them away:
Then from her inner Groues for succour when they cri'd,
Shee retchlesse of their wrongs (her Satyres scapes to hide)
Vnto their iust complaint no• once her •are enclines:
So fruitfull in her Woods, and wealthy in her Mines,
That Leden which her way doth through the Desert make,
Though neere to Deane ally'd, determin'd to forsake
Her course, and her cleere lim• amongst the bushes hide,
Least by the Syluans (should she chance to be espide)
Shee might vnmaidued goe vnto her Soueraigne Flood:
So manie were the rapes done on the watry brood,
That Sabrine to her Sire (great Neptune) forc't to sue,
The ryots to represse of this outrageous crue,
His armed Orks hee sent her milder streame to keepe,
To driue them back to Deane that troubled all the Deepe.
Whilst Malverne (king of Hills) faire Severne ouer-lookes
(Attended on in state with tributatie Brookes)
And how the fertill fields of Hereford doe lie.
And from his many heads, with many an amorous eye
Beholds his goodlie site, how towards the pleasant rise,
Abounding in excesse, the Vale of Eusham lies,
The Mountaines euery way about him that doe stand,
Of whom hee's daily seene, and seeing doth command;
On tiptoes set aloft, this proudlie vttereth hee:
Olympus, fayr'st of Hills, that Heauen art said to bee,
I not envie thy state, nor lesse my selfe doe make;
Nor to possesse thy name, mine owne would I forsake:
Nor would I, as thou doost, ambitiouslie aspire
To thrust my forked top into th'ethere all fire.
For, didst thou •iste•s the sweets that on my face doe breathe,
Aboue thou wouldst nor seeke what I enioy beneath:
Besides, the sundry soyles I euerywhere survay,
Make me, if better nor, thy equall euerie way.
And more, in our defence, to answere those, with spight
That tearme vs barren rude, and voide of all delight;
Wee Mountaines, to the Land, like Worts or Wens to bee,
By which, fair'st liuing things disfigur'd oft they see;
This stronglie to performe, a well […] braine would need.
And manie Hills there be, if they this Chuse would heed,
Hauing their rising tops familiar with the skie
(From whence all wit proceeds) that •it•er were then I
The taske to vnder-rulde. As not a man that sees
Mounchde•ny, Blorench hill, with Breadon, and the Clees,
And many more as great; and neerer me then they,
But thinks, in our defence they far much more could say.
Yet, falling to my lor, This stoutlie• maintaine
Gainst Forrests, Valleys, Fields, Groues, Riuers, Pasture, Plaine,
And all their flatter kind (so much that doe relie
Vpon their feedings, flocks, and the infertilitie)
The Mountaine is the King: and he •t is alone
Aboue the other soyles that Nature doth in throne
For Mountain •e like Men of braue heroique mind,
With eyes erect to heauen; of whence them selues they find;
Whereas the low lie Vale, as earthlie, like it selfe,
Doth neuer further looke then how to purchase pelfe.
And of their batfull sites, the Vales that boast them thus,
Nere had been what they are, had it not been for vs,
For, from the rising banks that stronglie mound them in,
The Valley (as betwixt) her name did first begin:
And almost not a Brooke, if shee her banks doe fill,
But hath her plentious Spring from Mountaine or from Hill.
If Mead, or lower Sl•de, grieue at the roome we take,
Knowe that the snowe or raine, descending oft, doth make
The fruitfull Valley fat, with what from vs doth glide,
Who with our Wintors waste maintaine their Sommers pride.
And to you lower Lands if terrible wee seeme,
And couer'd oft with clowds; it is your foggy steame
The powerfull S•nne exhales, that in the cooler day
Vnto this Region comne, about our tops doth stay.
And, what's the Groue, so much that thinks her to be grac't,
If not aboue the rest vpon the Mountaine plac't,
Where shee her curled head vnto the eye may showe?
For, in the easie Vale if shee be set belowe,
What is shee but obscure? and her more dampie shade
And covert, but a Den for beasts of r•vin made
Besides, wee are the Marks, which looking from an hie,
The trauailer beholds, and with a cheerfull eye
Doth thereby shape his course, and freshlie doth pursue
The way which long before lay tedious in his view.
What Forrest, Flood, or Field, that standoth not in awe,
Of Sina, or shall see the sight that Mountaine […]
To none but to a Hill such grace was euer gi•en:
As on his back tis said, great Atlas beares vp heauen.
So Latmus by the wise •ndymion is renown'd,
That Hill, on whose high toplie was the first that found
Pale Phoebes wandring course; so skilfull in her Sphere,
As some stick not to say that he enioy'd her there.
And those chaste maids, begot on Memoriebly Ioue,
Not Tempe onelie loue delighting in their Groue,
Nor Helicon their Brooke, in whose delicious brims,
They oft are vs'd to bathe their cloene and cry stall lims;
But high Parnassus haue, their Mountaine, whereon they
Vpon their golden Lutes continuallie doe play
Of these I more could tell, to proue the place our owne,
Then by his spatious Mape are by Ortillius showne.
For Mountaines this suffice. Which scarcelie had he told,
Along the fertill fields, when Melver•e might behold
The Herefordian Floods, farre distant though they bee:
For great men, as we find, a great way off can see.
First, Frome with forhead cleare, by Br•myard that doth glide;
And taking Loden in, their mixed streames do• guide,
To meet their Soueraigne Lug, from the Rad••ria• Plaine
At Prestayn comming in; where hee doth entertaine
The Wadell, as along he vnder Derfold goes:
Her full and lustie side to whom the Forrest showes,
As to allure faire Lug, abo•d with her to make.
Lug little Oney first, then Arre in doth take,
At Lemster, for her Wooll whose Staple doth excell,
And seemes to ouer-match the golden Phrygian Fell.
Had this our Colchos been vnto the Ancients knowne,
When Honor was her selfe, and in her glorie showne,
He then that did commaund the Infantry of Greece,
Had onely to our Ile adventur'd for this Floeoe.
Where liues the man so dull, on Britains furthest shore,
To whom did neuer found the name of Lemster Ore?
That with the Silke-wormes web for smalness doth compare:
Wherein, the Winder showes his workmanship so rare
As doth the Fleece ex•ell, and mocks her looser clew,
As neatlie bottom'd vp as Nature forth it drew;
Of each in high'st accompt, and reckoned here as fine,
As there th' Appulian fleece, or dainty Tarentyne.
From thence his louely selfe for Wye he doth dispose,
To view the goodly flockes on each hand as he goes;
And makes his iourney short, with strange and sundry tales,
Of all their wondrous things; and, not the least, of Wales;
Of that prodigious Spring (him neighbouring as he past)
That little Fishes bones continually doth cast.
Whose reason whil'st he seekes industriously to knowe,
A great way he hath gon, and Hereford doth showe
Her rising Spires aloft; when as the Princely Wye,
Him from his Muse to wake, arrests him by and by.
Whose meeting to behold, with how well ordered grace
Each other entertaines, how kindly they embrace;
For ioy, so great a shout the bordering Citie sent,
That with the sound thereof, which thorough Haywood went,
The Wood-Nymphs did awake that in the Forest won;
To know the sudden cause, and presently they ron
With lockes vncomb'd, for haste the louely Wye to see
(The flood that grac't her most) this day should married be
To that more louely Lug; a Riuer of much fame,
That in her wandering bankes should lose his glorious name.
For Hereford, although her Wye she hold so deere,
Yet Lug (whose longer course doth grace •he goodly Sheere,
And with his plentious Streame so many Brookes doth bring)
Of all hers that be North is absolutely King.
But Marcely, grieu'd that he (the neerest of the rest,
And of the Mountaine kind) not bidden was a guest
Vnto this nuptiall Feast, so hardly it doth take,
As (meaning for the same his station to forsake)
Inrag'd and mad with griefe, himselfe in two did riue;
The Trees and Hedges neere, before him vp doth driue,
And dropping headlong downe, three dayes together fall:
Which, bellowing as he went, the Rockes did so appall,
That they him passage made, who Coats and Chappels crusht:
So violently he into his Valley rusht.
But Wye (from her deare Lug whom nothing can restraine,
In many a pleasant shade, her ioy to entertaine)
To Rosse her course directs; and right he• name to showe,
Oft windeth in her way, as backe she meant to goe.
Meander, who is said so intricate to bee,
Hath not so many turnes, nor crankling nookes as shee.
The Herefordian fields when welneare hauing past,
As she is going forth, two sister Brookes at last
That Soile her kindly sends, to guide her on her way;
Neat Gamar, that gets in swift Garran: which do lay
Their waters in one Banke, augmenting of her traine,
To grace the goodlie Wye, as she doth passe by Deane.
Beyond whose equall Spring vnto the West doth lie
The goodly Golden Vale, whose lushious sents do flie
More free then Hyblas sweets; and twixt her bordering hils,
The aire with such delights and delicacie fils,
As makes it loth to stirre, or thence those smels to beare.
Th'Hesperides scarce had such pleasures as be there:
Which sometime to attaine, that mighty sonne of Ioue
One of his Labors made, and with the Dragon stroue,
That neuer clos'd his •ies, the golden fruit to guard;
As if t'enrich this place, from others, Nature spar'd:
Banks crown'd with curled Groues, from cold to keepe the Plaine,
Fields batfull, flowrie Meades, in state them to maintaine;
Floods, to make fat those Meades, from Marble veines that spout,
To shew, the wealth within doth answer that without.
So braue a Nymph she is, in euery thing so rare,
As to sit down by her, she thinkes there's none should dare.
And forth she sends the Doire, vpon the Wye to wait.
Whom Munne by the way more kindly doth intreat
(For Eskle, her most lou'd, and Olcons onely sake)
With her to go along, till Wye she ouertake.
To whom she condiscends, from danger her to shield,
That th'Monumethian parts from th'Herefordian field.
Which manly Maluern sees from furthest of the Sheere,
On the Wigornian waste when Northward looking neere,
On Corswood casts his eie, and on his home-born Chase,
Then constantly beholds, with an vnusuall pase
Team with her tribute come vnto the Cambrian Queene,
Neere whom in all this place a Riuer's scarcely seene,
That dare auouch her name; Teame scorning any Spring
But what with her along from Shrepshire she doth bring,
Except one namelesse Streame that Maluern sends her in,
And Laughern though but small: when they such grace that win,
There thrust in with the Brookes inclosed in her Banke.
Teame lastly thither com'n with water is so ranke,
As though she would contend with Sabryne, and doth craue
Of place (by her desert) precedencie to haue:
Till chancing to behold the others godlike grace,
So strongly is surpris'd with beauties in her face
By no meanes she could hold, but needsly she must showe
Her liking, and her selfe doth into Sabrine throwe.
Not farre from him againe when Maluern doth perceaue
Two hils, which though their heads so high they doe not heaue,
Yet duly do obserue great Maluern, and affoord
Him reuerence: who againe, as fits a gratious Lord,
Vpon his Subiects looks, and equall praise doth giue
That Woodberry so nigh and neighbourlie doth liue
With Abberley his friend, deseruing well such fame
That Saxton in his Maps forgot them not to name:
Which, though in their meane types small matter doth appeare,
Yet both of good account are reckned in the Shiere,
And highly grac't of Teame in his proud passing by.
When soone the goodlie Wyre, that wonted was so hie
Her statelie top to reare, ashamed to behold
Her straight and goodlie Woods vnto the Fornace sold
(And looking on her selfe, by her decay doth see
The miserie wherein her sister Forrests bee)
Of Erisicthons end begins her to be thinke,
And of his cruell plagues doth wish they all might drinke
That thus haue them dispoil'd: then of her owne despight;
That shee, in whom her Towne faire Beudley tooke delight,
And from her goodlie seat conceiu'd so great a pride,
In Severne on her East, Wyre on the setting side,
So naked left of woods, of pleasure, and forlorne,
As she that lov'd her most, her now the most doth scorne;
With endlesse griefe perplext, her stubborne breast shee strake,
And to the deafened ayre thus passionately spake;
You Driades, that are said with Oakes to liue and die,
Wherefore in our distresse doe you our dwellings flie;
Vpon this monstrous Age and not reuenge our wrong?
For cutting downe an Oake that iustlie did belong
To one of Ceres Nymphes, in Thessaly that grew
In the Dodonean Groue (O Nymphes!) you could pursue
The sonne of Perops then, and did the Goddesse stirre
That villanie to wreake the Tyrant did to her:
Who, with a dreadfull frowne did blast the growing Graine:
And hauing from him rest what should his life maintaine,
Shee vnto Scythia sent, for Hunger, him to gnawe,
And thrust her downe his throat, into his stanchlesse mawe:
Who, when nor Sea nor Land for him sufficient were,
With his deuouring teeth his wretched flesh did teare.
This did you for one Tree: but of whole Forrests they
That in these impious times haue been the vile decay
(Whom I may iustlie call their Countries deadly foes)
Gainst them you moue no Power, their spoyle vnpunisht goes.
How manie grieued soules in future time shall starue,
For that which they haue rapt their beastlie lust to serue!
Wee, sometime that the state of famous Britaine were,
For whom she was renown'd in Kingdoms farre and neere,
Are ransackt; and our Trees so hackt aboue the ground,
That where their lostie tops their neighboring Countries crown'd,
Their Trunkes (like aged folkes) now bare and naked stand,
As for reuenge to heauen each held a withered hand:
And where the goodly Heards of high-palm'd Harts did gaze
Vpon the passer by, there now doth onely graze
The gall'd-backe carrion Iade, and hurtfull Swine do spoile
Once to the Syluan Powers our consecrated soile.
This vttered she with griefe: and more she would haue spoke:
When the Salopian floods her of her purpose broke,
And silence did enioyne; a listning eare to lend
To Seuerne, which was thought did mighty things intend.