Classic Poem

Remond, that by the dog the master knew,
Came back, and angry bade him to pursue.
Dory (quoth he), if your ill-tutor'd dog
Have nought of awe, then let him have a clog.
Do you not know this seely timorous deer,
(As usual to his kind) hunted whilere
The sun not ten degrees got in the signs,
Since to our maids, here gathering columbines,
She weeping came, and with her head low laid
In Fida's lap, did humbly beg for aid.
Whereat unto the hounds they gave a check,
And saving her, might spy about her neck
A collar hanging, and (as yet is seen)
These words in gold wrought on a ground of green:
" Maidens, since 'tis decreed a maid shall have me,
Keep me till he shall kill me that must save me. "
But whence she came, or who the words concern,
We neither know nor can of any learn.
Upon a pallat she doth lie at night,
Near Fida's bed, nor will she from her sight:
Upon her walks she all the day attends,
And by her side she trips where'er she wends.
Remond (replied the swain) if I have wrong'd
Fida in ought which unto her belong'd,
I sorrow for't, and truly do protest,
As yet I never heard speech of this beast:
Nor was it with my will; or if it were,
Is it not lawful we should chase the deer,
That breaking our enclosures every morn
Are found at feed upon our crop of corn?
Yet had I known this deer. I had not wrong'd
Fida in ought which unto her belong'd.
I think no less, quoth Remond; but, I pray,
Whither walks Doridon this holy-day?
Come drive your sheep to their appointed feeding,
And make you one at this our merry meeting.
Full many a shepherd with his lovely lass
Sit telling tales upon the clover grass.
There is the merry shepherd of the Hole,
Thenot, Piers, Nilkin, Duddy, Hobbinoll,
Alexis, Silvan, Teddy of the Glen,
Rowly and Perigot here by the Fen,
With many more (I cannot reckon all)
That meet to solemnize this festival.
I grieve not at their mirth, said Doridon:
Yet had there been of feasts not any one
Appointed or commanded, you will say,
" Where there's content 'tis ever holy-day. "
Leave further talk (quoth Remond) let's be gone,
I'll help you with your sheep, the time draws on.
Fida will call the hind, and come with us.
Thus went they on, and Remond did discuss
Their cause of meeting, till they won with pacing
The circuit chosen for the maidens' tracing.
It was a roundel seated on a plain,
That stood as sentinel unto the main,
Environ'd round with trees and many an arbour,
Wherein melodious birds did nightly harbour,
And on a bough within the quick'ning spring,
Would be a-teaching of their young to sing;
Whose pleasing notes the tired swain have made
To steal a nap at noontide in the shade.
Nature herself did there in triumph ride,
And made that place the ground of all her pride.
Whose various flow'rs deceiv'd the rasher eye
In taking them for curious tapesiry.
A silver spring forth of a rock did fall,
That in a drought did serve to water all.
Upon the edges of a grassy bank
A tuft of trees grew circling in a rank,
As if they seem'd their sports to gaze upon,
Or stood as guard against the wind and sun.
So fair, so fresh, so green, so sweet a ground
The piercing eyes of Heaven yet never found.
Here Doridon all ready met doth see,
(Oh, who would not at such a meeting be?)
Where he might doubt, who gave to other grace,
Whether the place the maids, or maids the place.
Here gan the reed and merry bagpipe play,
Shrill as a thrush upon a morn of May,
(A rural music for an heavenly train)
And every shepherdess danc'd with her swain,
As when some gale of wind doth nimbly take
A fair white lock of wool, and with it make
Some pretty driving; here it sweeps the plain;
There stays, here hops, there mounts, and turns again;
Yet all so quick, that none so soon can say
That now it stops, or leaps, or turns away:
So was their dancing: none look'd thereupon,
But thought their several motions to be one.
A crooked measure was their first election,
Because all crooked tends to best perfection.
And as I ween this often bowing measure
Was chiefly framed for the women's pleasure.
Though like the rib, they crooked are and bending,
Yet to the best of forms they aim their ending.
Next in an (I) their measure made a rest,
Showing when love is plainest it is best.
Then in a (Y) which thus doth love commend,
Making of two at first, one in the end.
And lastly closing in a round do enter,
Placing the lusty shepherds in the centre:
About the swains they dancing seem'd to roll,
As other planets round the heav'nly pole,
Who by their sweet aspect or chiding frown,
Could raise a shepherd up, or cast him down.
Thus were they circled till a swain came near,
And sent this song unto each shepherd's ear:
The note and voice so sweet, that for such mirth
The gods would leave the heavens, and dwell on earth.

Happy are you so enclosed;
May the maids be still disposed
In their gestures and their dances,
So to grace you with entwining,
That Envy wish in such combining,
Fortune's smile with happy chances.
Here it seems as if the Graces
Measur'd out the plain in traces,
In a shepherdess disguising.
Are the spheres so nimbly turning?
Wand'ring lamps in heaven burning,
To the eve so much enticing?

Yes, Heaven means to take these thither,
And add one joy to see both dance together.
Gentle nymphs, be not refusing,
Love's neglect is time's abusing,
They and beauty are but lent you,
Take the one and keep the other:
Love keeps fresh what age doth smother:
Beauty gone you will repent you.