Classic Poem

Thus Remond said, and saw the fair Marine
Plac'd near a spring, whose waters crystalline
Did in their murmurings bear a part, and plain'd
That one so true, so fair, should be disdain'd:
Whilst in her cries, that fill'd the vale along,
Still Celand was the burthen of her song.
The stranger shepherd left the other swain,
To give attendance to his fleecy train;
Who, in departing from him, let him know,
That yonder was his freedom's overthrow,
Who sat bewailing (as he late had done)
That love by true affection was not won.
This fully known, Remond came to the maid,
And after some few words, (her tears allay'd,)
Began to blame her rigour, call'd her cruel,
To follow hate, and fly love's chiefest jewel.
Fair, do not blame him that he thus is mov'd;
For women sure were made to be belov'd.
If beauty wanting lovers long should stay,
It like an house undwelt in would decay:
When in the heart if it have taken place
Time cannot blot, nor crooked age deface,
The adamant and beauty we discover
To be alike; for beauty draws a lover,
The adamant his iron. Do not blame
His loving then, but that which caus'd the same.
Whoso is lov'd, doth glory so to be:
The more your lovers, more your victory.
Know, if you stand on faith, most women's loathing,
'Tis but a word, a character of nothing.
Admit it somewhat, if what we call constance
Within a heart hath long time residence,
And in a woman, she becomes alone
Fair to herself, but foul to every one.
If in a man it once have taken place,
He is a fool, or dotes, or wants a face
To win a woman, and I think it be
No virtue, but a mere necessity.
Heaven's powers deny it! Swain (quoth she) have done,
Strive not to bring that in derision,
Which whosoe'er detracts in setting forth,
Doth truly derogate from his own worth,
It is a thing which heaven to all hath lent
To be their virtue's chiefest ornament:
Which whoso wants is well compar'd to these
False tables wrought by Alcibiades,
Which noted well of all were found t'have been
Most fair without but most deform'd within.
Then, shepherd, know, that I intend to be
As true to one as he is false to me.
To one? (quoth he) why so? Maids pleasure take
To see a thousand languish for their sake:
Women desire for lovers of each sort,
And why not you? Th' amorous swain for sport;
The lad that drives the greatest flock to field
Will buskins, gloves, and other fancies yield;
The gallant swain will save you from the jaws
Of ravenous bears, and from the lions' paws.
Believe what I propound; do many choose;
" The least herb in the field serves for some use. "
Nothing persuaded, nor assuag'd by this,
Was fairest Marine, or her heaviness:
But pray'd the shepherd, as he e'er did hope
His silly sheep should fearless have the scope
Of all the shadows that the trees do lend,
From reynard's stealth, when Titan doth ascend,
And run his midway course, to leave her there,
And to his bleating charge again repair.
He condescended; left her by the brook,
And to the swain and 's sheep himself betook.
He gone, she with herself thus 'gan to sain:
Alas! poor Marine, think'st thou to attain
His love by sitting here? or can the fire
Be quench'd with wood? can we allay desire
By wanting what's desired? O that breath,
The cause of life, should be the cause of death!
That who is shipwreck'd on love's hidden shelf,
Doth live to others, dies unto herself.
Why might not I attempt by death as yet
To gain that freedom which I could not get,
Being hinder'd heretofore? A time as free,
A place as fit offers itself to me,
Whose seed of ill is grown to such a height,
That makes the earth groan to support his weight.
Whoso is lull'd asleep with Midas' treasures,
And only fears by death to lose life's pleasures;
Let them fear death: but since my fault is such,
And only fault, that I have lov'd too much,
On joys of life why should I stand? For those
Which I ne'er had I surely cannot lose.
Admit a while I to these thoughts consented,
" Death can be but deferred, not prevented. "
Then raging with delay, her tears that fell
Usher'd her way, and she into a well
Straightways leapt after. " O! how desperation
Attends upon the mind enthrall'd to passion! "
The fall of her did make the god below,
Starting, to wonder whence that noise should grow;
Whether some ruder clown in spite did fling
A lamb, untimely fall'n, into his spring:
And if it were, he solemnly then swore
His spring should flow some other way: no more
Should it in wanton manner e'er be seen
To writhe in knots, or give a gown of green
Unto their meadows, nor be seen to play,
Nor drive the rushy mills that in his way
The shepherds made; but rather for their lot,
Send them red waters that their sheep should rot;
And with such moorish springs embrace their field,
That it should nought but moss and rushes yield.
Upon each hillock, where the merry boy
Sits piping in the shades his notes of joy,
He'd show his anger by some flood at hand,
And turn the same into a running sand.
Upon the oak, the plum-tree, and the holm,
The stock-dove and the blackbird should not come,
Whose muting on those trees do make to grow
Rots-curing hyphear, and the mistletoe.
Nor shall this help their sheep, whose stomach fails,
By tying knots of wool near to their tails:
But as the place next to the knot doth die,
So shall it all the body mortify.
Thus spake the god: but when as in the water
The corps came sinking down, he spied the matter,
And catching softly in his arms the maid,
He brought her up, and having gently laid
Her on his bank, did presently command
Those waters in her to come forth: at hand
They straight came gushing out, and did contest
Which chiefly should obey their god's behest.
This done, her then pale lips he straight held ope,
And from his silver hair let fall a drop
Into her mouth of such an excellence,
That call'd back life which griev'd to part from thence,
Being for troth assur'd that than this one,
She ne'er possess'd a fairer mansion.
Then did the god her body forwards steep,
And cast her for a while into a sleep;
Sitting still by her did his full view take
Of Nature's masterpiece. Here for her sake,
My pipe in silence as of right shall mourn,
Till from the wat'ring we again return.