Classic Poem

A shepheard's tale no height of stile desires,
To raise in words what in effect is lowe:
A plaining song plaine-singing voice requires,
For warbling notes from inward chearing flowe.
I then, whose burd'ned breast but thus aspires
Of shepheards two the seely care to show,
Need not the stately Muses' helpe inuoke
For creeping rimes, which often-sighings choke.
But you, O you, that thinke not teares too deare
To spend for harms, although they touch you not;
And deigne to deeme your neighbours' mischiefe neare,
Although they be of meaner parents got:
You I inuite with easie eares to heare
The poore-clad truth of Loue's wrong-ordred lot.
Who may be glad, be glad you be not such;
Who share in woe, weygh others haue as much.
There was (O seldome blessed word of was!)
A paire of friends, or rather one cald two,
Train'd in the life which no short-bitten grasse
In shine or storme must set the clowted shoe:
He that the other in some yeares did passe,
And in those gifts that yeares distribute doe,
Was Klaius cald (ah, Klaius, wofull wight!);
The later borne — yet too soone — Strephon hight
Epeirus high was honest Klaius' nest,
To Strephon Æole's land first breathing lent,
But East and West were ioin'd by friendship's hest
As Strephon's eare and heart to Klaius bent,
So Klaius' soule did in his Strephon rest:
Still both their flockes flocking togither went,
As if they would of owners' humour be;
As eke their pipes did well as friends agree:
Klaius, for skill of herbs and shepheard's art,
Among the wisest was accounted wise;
Yet not so wise as of vnstained hart:
Strephon was yong, yet markt with humble eies
How elder rul'd their flockes and cur'd their smart,
So that the graue did not his words despise.
Both free of mind, both did cleare-dealing loue,
And both had skill in verse their voice to moue.
Their chearfull minds, till pois'ned was their cheare,
The honest sports of earthy lodging proue;
Now for a clod-like hare in form they peere,
Now bolt and cudgill squirrel's leape doe moue
Now the ambitious larke with mirror cleare
They catch, while he, foole! to himselfe makes loue:
And now at keeles they try a harmeless chaunce,
And now their curre they teach to fetch and daunce
When merrie May first earlie cals the morne,
With merrie maids a-Maying they do goe;
Then doe they pull from sharp and niggard thorne
The plentious sweets (can sweets so sharply grow!);
Then some greene gownes are by the lasses worne
In chastest plaies, till home they walke a-rowe,
While daunce about the May-pole is begun;
When, if neede were, they could at quintain run,
While thus they ran a low but leaueld race.
While thus they liu'd (this was indeede a life),
With Nature pleas'd, content with present case,
Free of proud feares, braue begg'ry, smiling strife,
Of clime-fall Court, the enuy-hatching place:
While those restlesse desires in great men rife
To visite of folkes so low did much disdaine,
This while, though poore, they in themselues did raigne,
One day (O day, that shin'd to make them darke!)
While they did ward sunne-beames with shadie bay,
And Klaius taking for his yongling carke
(Lest greedie eyes to them might challenge lay),
Busy with oker did their shoulders marke
(His marke a piller was, deuoid of stay,
As bragging that free of all passions' mone,
Well might he others' beare, but leane to none:)
Strephon with leauie twigs of laurell-tree
A garlant made on temples for to weare,
For he then chosen was the dignitie
Of village-lord that Witsontide to beare,
And full, poore foole, of boyish brauerie,
With triumphs' shewes would shew he nought did feare.
But fore-accounting oft makes builders misse;
They found, they felt, they had no lease of blisse
For ere that either had his purpose done,
Behold (beholding well it doth deserue),
They saw a maid who thitherward did runne,
To catch a sparrow, which from her did swerue,
As shee a black-silke cappe on him begunne
To sett, for foile of his milke-white to serue.
Shee chirping ran, he peeping flew away,
Till hard by them both he and shee did stay.
Well for to see, they kept themselues vnseene,
And saw this fairest maid of fairer minde,
By fortune meane, in Nature borne a Queene,
How well apaid shee was her bird to finde;
How tenderly her tender hands betweene
In iuorye cage she did the micher binde;
How rosie moist'ned lipes about his beake
Mouing, she seem'd at once to kisse and speake.
Chastned but thus, and thus his lesson tought
The happie wretch she put into her breast,
Which to their eies the bowls of Venus brought,
For they seem'd made euen of skie mettall best,
And that the bias, of her bloud was wrought:
Betwixt them two the peeper tooke his nest,
Where snuging well he well appear'd content,
So to haue done amisse, so to be shent.
This done, but done with captiue-killing grace,
Each motion seeming shot from Beautie's bow,
With length laid downe she deckt the louely place:
Proud grew the grasse that vnder her did growe,
The trees spread out their armes to shade her face;
But she, on elbow lean'd, with sighs did show
No grasse, no trees, nor yet her sparrow might
To long-perplexed mind breed long delight.
She troubled was (alas that it mought be!)
With tedious brawlings of her parents deare,
Who would haue her in will and word agree
To wed Antaxius, their neighbour neare:
A heardman rich of much account was he,
In whom no ill did raigne, nor good appeare:
In some such one she lik'd not his desire,
Faine would be free, but dreadeth parents' ire
Kindly, sweet soule, she did vnkindnesse take
That bagged baggage of a miser's mudd,
Should price of her, as in a market, make: —
But golde can gild a rotten piece of wood.
To yeeld she found her noble heart did ake;
To striue she fear'd how it with vertue stood:
Thus doubting clouds ore-casting heau'nly braine,
At length in rowes of kisse-cheeks teares they raine.
Cupid, the wagg, that lately conquer'd had
Wise counsellours, stout captaines, puissant kings,
And ti'd them fast to leade his triumph bad,
Glutted with them now plaies with meanest things.
So oft in feasts with costly changes clad
To crammed mawes a sprat new stomake brings:
So lords, with sport of stagg and hearon full,
Sometimes we see small birds from nests do pull
So now for pray these shepheards two he tooke.
Whose metall stiff he knew he could not bend
With hear-say pictures or a window-looke,
With one good dawnce, or letter finely pen'd;
That, were in Court a well-proportion'd hooke,
Where piercing witts do quickly apprehend:
Their sences rude plaine obiects only moue,
And so must see great cause before they loue.
Therefore Loue arm'd in her now takes the field,
Making her beames his brauerie and might;
Her hands which pierc'd the soule's seau'n-double shield,
Were now his darts, leauing his wonted fight;
Braue crest to him her scorne-gold haire did yeeld,
His compleat harneis was her purest white,
But fearing lest all white might seeme too good,
In cheekes and lipps the tyrant threatens bloud.
Besides this force, within her eyes he kept
A fire, to burne the prisoners he gaines,
Whose boiling heate encreased as she wept:
For eu'n in forge cold water fire maintaines,
Thus proud and fierce vnto the hearts he stept
Of them, poore soules, and cutting Reason's raines,
Made them his owne before they had it wist:
But if they had, could sheephookes this resist?
Klaius straight felt and groned at the blowe,
And call'd, now wounded, purpose to his aide:
Strephon, fond boy, delighted did not knowe
That it was Loue that shin'd in shining maid,
But, lickrous-poison'd, faine to her would goe,
If him new-learned manners had not staid.
For then Vrania homeward did arise,
Leauing in paine their wel-fed hungry eies.
She went, they staid, or, rightly for to say,
She staid in them, they went in thought with hyr:
Klaius indeede would faine haue puld away
This mote from out his eye, this inward burre,
And now, proud rebell, 'gan for to gainsay
The lesson which but late he learn'd too furre;
Meaning with absence to refresh the thought
To which her presence such a feauer brought
Strephon did leap with ioy and iolitie,
Thinking it iust more therein to delight
Then in good dog, faire field, or shading tree.
So haue I seene trim-bookes in veluet dight,
With golden leaues, and painted baberie,
Of seely boies please vnacquainted sight:
But when the rod began to play his part,
Faine would, but could not flye from golden smart.
He quickly learn'd Vrania was her name,
And straight for failing, grau'd it in his heart:
He knew her haunt, and haunted in the same,
And taught his sheepe her sheepe in food to thwart,
Which soone as it did batefull question frame,
He might on knees confesse his faultie part,
And yeeld himselfe vnto her punishment,
While nought but game the selfe-hurt wanton ment
Nay euen vnto her home he oft would go,
Where bold and hurtlesse many play he tries,
Her parents liking well it should be so,
For simple goodnesse shined in his eyes.
There did he make her laugh in spite of woe,
So as good thoughts of him in all arise,
While into none doubt of his loue did sinke,
For not himselfe to be in loue did thinke.
But glad Desire, his late-embosom'd guest,
Yet but a babe, with milke of Sight he nurst:
Desire the more he sucks, more sought the brest,
Like dropsie-folke still drinke to be a-thirst.
Till one faire eau'n, an houre ere sunne did rest,
Who then in lion's caue did enter first,
By neighbours prai'd she went abroad thereby,
At barly-brake her sweete swift foot to trie.
Neuer the Earth on his round shoulders bare
A maid train'd vp from high or low degree,
That in her doings better could compare
Mirth with respect, few words with curtesie,
A carelesse comlinesse with comely care,
Selfe-gard with mildnesse, sport with maiestie:
Which made her yeeld to deck this shepheard's band;
And still, beleeue me, Strephon was at hand.
A-field they go, where manie lookers be,
And thou seek-sorrow Klaius them among:
Indeed thou said'st it was thy friend to see,
Strephon, whose absence seem'd vnto thee long;
While most with her he lesse did keepe with thee.
No, no, it was in spite of wisedome's song,
Which absence wisht, Loue plai'd a victor's part;
The heau'n-loue lodstone drew thy iron hart.
Then couples three be streight allotted there;
They of both ends, the middle two doe flie,
The two that in mid place Hell, called were,
Must striue with waiting foot and watching eye
To catch of them, and them to Hell to beare,
That they, as well as they, Hell may supplie:
Like some which seeke to salue their blotted name
With others' blott, till all do tast of shame.
There may you see, soone as the middle two
Doe coupled towards either couple make,
They false and fearefull do their hands vndoe,
Brother his brother, friend doth friend forsake,
Heeding himselfe, cares not how fellow do,
But of a stranger mutuall help doth take,
As periur'd cowards in aduersitie
With sight of feare from friends to fremb'd do flie.
These sports shepheards deuizd such faults to show:
Geron, though old yet gamesome, kept one end
With Cosma, for whose loue Pas past in wo.
Faire Nous with Pas the lott to Hell did send,
Pas thought it Hell, while he was Cosma fro.
At other end Vran did Strephon lend
Her happye-making hand, of whom one looke
From Nous and Cosma all their beautie tooke.
The play began: Pas durst not Cosma chace,
But did intend next bout with her to meete;
So he with Nous to Geron turn'd their race,
With whom to ioyne, fast ran Vrania sweet,
But light-legg'd Pas had got the middle space.
Geron straue hard, but aged were his feet,
And therefore finding force now faint to be,
He thought gray haires affoorded subtiltie,
And so when Pas' hand reached him to take,
The fox on knees and elbowes tumbled downe;
Pas could not stay, but ouer him did rake,
And crown'd the earth with his first-touching crowne:
His heeles grow'n proud did seeme at heau'n to shake,
But Nous, that slipt from Pas, did catch the clowne.
So laughing all, yet Pas to ease some-dell
Geron with Vran were condemn'd to Hell.
Cosma this while to Strephon safely came,
And all to second barly-breake are bent:
The two in Hell did toward Cosma frame,
Who should to Pas, but they would her preuent.
Pas mad with fall, and madder with the shame,
Most mad with beames which he thought Cosma sent,
With such mad hast he did to Cosma goe,
That to her breast he gaue a noysome blowe:
She, quick and proud, and who did Pas dispise,
Vp with her fist, and tooke him on the face:
Another time, quoth she, become more wise.
Thus Pas did kisse her hand with little grace,
And each way lucklesse, yet in humble guise
Did hold her fast for feare of more disgrace,
While Strephon might with prettie Nous haue met,
But all this while another course he fet;
For as Vrania after Cosma ran,
He, rauished with sight how gracefully
She mou'd her lims, and drew the aged man,
Left Nous, to coast the loued beautie nie:
Nous cri'd and chaf'd, but he no other can,
Till Vran seeing Pas to Cosma flie,
And Strephon single, turned after him.
Strephon so chas'd did seeme in milke to swimme;
He ran, but ran with eye ore shoulder cast,
More marking her then how himselfe did goe;
Like Numid lyons by the hunters chas'd,
Though they doe flie, yet backwardly doe glowe
With proud aspect, disdaining greater hast:
What rage in them, that loue in him did show.
But God giues them instinct the man to shun,
And he by law of barly-brake must run;
But as his heate with running did augment,
Much more his sight encreast his hote desire.
So is in her the best of Nature spent,
The aire her sweet race mou'd doth blow the fire:
Her feet be purseuants from Cupid sent,
With whose fine steps all loues and ioyes conspire:
The hidden beauties seem'd in wait to lie,
To drowne proud hearts that would not willing die.
Thus fast he fled from her he follow'd sore,
Still shunning Nous to lengthen pleasing race,
Till that he spied old Geron could no more;
Then did he slacke his loue-enstructed pace,
So that Vran, whose arme old Geron bore,
Laid hold on him with most lay-holding grace.
So caught, him seem'd he caught of ioyes the bell,
And thought it heau'n so to be drawne to Hell.
To Hell he goes, and Nous with him must dwell:
Nous sware it was not right, for his default
Who would be caught, that she should goe to Hell:
But so she must. And now the third assault
Of barly-brake among the sixe befell,
Pas Cosma matcht, yet angry with his fault,
The other end Geron with Vran gard;
I thinke you thinke Strephon bent thitherward
Nous counseld Strephon Geron to pursue,
For he was old and easie would be cought:
But he drew her as loue his fancie drew,
And so to take the gemme, Vrania, sought.
While Geron old came safe to Cosma true,
Though him to meet at all she sturred nought;
For Pas, whether it were for feare or loue,
Mou'd not himselfe, nor suffered her to moue.
So they three did together idly stay,
While deare Vran, whose course was Pas to meet,
(He staying thus) was faine abroad to stray
With larger round, to shun the following feet.
Strephon, whose eyes on her back-parts did play,
With loue drawne on, so fast with pace vnmeet
Drew daintie Nous, that she not able so
To runne, brake from his hands, and let him goe.
He single thus hop'd soone with her to be,
Who nothing earthly, but of fire and aire,
Though with soft leggs, did runne as fast as he.
He thrise reacht, thrise deceiu'd, when her to beare
He hopes, with daintie turns she doth him flee.
So on the downs we see, neere Wilton faire,
A hastn'd hare from greedie grayhound goe,
And past all hope his chaps to frustrate so.
But this strange race more strange conceits did yeeld;
Who victor seem'd was to his ruine brought,
Who seem'd orethrowne was mistresse of the field:
She fled, and tooke; he followed, and was caught.
So haue I heard, to pierce pursuing shield
By parents train'd the Tartars wilde are taught,
With shafts shot out from their back-turned bow;
But, ah, her darts did farre more deeply go.
As Venus' bird, the white, swift, louely doue,
(O happie doue, that art compar'd to her!)
Doth on her wings her vtmost swiftnesse proue,
Finding the gripe of falcon fierce not furre;
So did Vran the narre, the swifter moue, —
Yet beautie still as fast as she did sturre, —
Till with long race deare she was breathlesse brought,
And then the phaenix feared to be cought.
Among the rest that there did take delight
To see the sports of double-shining day,
And did the tribute of their wondring sight
To Nature's heire, the faire Vrania, pay,
I told you Klaius was the haplesse wight,
Who earnest found what they accounted play.
He did not there doe homage of his eyes,
But on his eyes his heart did sacrifice.
With gazing looks, short sighes, vnsetled feet,
He stood, but turn'd, as Girosol, to sunne;
His fancies still did her in halfe-way meet,
His soule did flie as she was seene to run.
In summe, proud Boreas neuer ruled fleet,
(Who Neptune's web on Daunger's distaffe spun,)
With greater power, then she did make them wend
Each way, as she, that ages praise, did bend.
Till spying well she wellnigh weary was,
And surely taught by his loue-open eye, —
His eye, that eu'n did marke her troden grasse, —
That she would faine the catch of Strephon flie;
Giuing his reason pasport for to passe
Whither it would, so it would let him die,
He that before shund her (to shunne such harmes),
Now runnes and takes her in his clipping armes.
For with pretence from Strephon her to guard,
He met her full, but full of warefulnesse,
With inbow'd bosome well for her prepar'd,
When Strephon cursing his owne backwardnesse,
Came to her backe, and so with double ward
Imprisond her, who both them did possesse
As heart-bound slaues: and happie then embrace
Vertue's proofe, Fortune's victor, Beautie's place.
Her race did not her beautie's beames augment,
For they were euer in the best degree,
But yet a setting-forth it some way lent,
As rubies' lustre when they rubbed be.
The daintie deaw on face and bodie went,
As on sweet flowers when Morning's drops we see;
Her breath, then short, seem'd loth from home to passe;
Which more it mou'd, the more it sweeter was.
Happy, O happy, if they so might bide,
To see her eyes, with how true humblenesse
They looked downe to triumph ouer pride;
With how sweet sawce she blam'd their sawcinesse,
To feele the panting heart, which through her side
Did beat their hands, which durst so neere to presse,
To see, to feele, to heare, to taste, to know
More then, besides her, all the earth could show.
But neuer did Medea's golden weed
On Creon's child his poyson sooner throw
Then those delights through all their sinewes breed
A creeping, serpent-like, of mortall woe:
Till she brake from their armes, — although indeed
Going from them, from them she could not go, —
And farewelling the flock, did homeward wend:
And so that euen the barly-brake did end.
It ended, but the other woe began, —
Began at least to be conceiu'd as woe.
For then wise Klaius found no absence can
Helpe him, who can no more her sight fore go.
He found man's vertue is but part of man,
And part must follow where whole man doth go.
He found that Reason's selfe now reasons found
To fasten knots, which Fancie first had bound:
So doth he yeeld; so takes he on his yoke,
Not knowing who did draw with him therein.
Strephon, poore youth, because he saw no smoke,
Did not conceiue what fire he had within;
But after this to greater rage it broke,
Till of his life it did full conquest win.
First killing mirth, then banishing all rest,
Filling his eyes with teares, with sighes his breast;
Then sports grew paines, all talking tedious;
On thoughts he feeds, his lookes their figure change,
The day seems long, but night is odious;
No sleeps but dreames, no dreames but visions strange:
Till finding still his euill encreasing thus,
One day he with his flocke abroad did raunge,
And comming where he hop'd to be alone,
Thus on a hillocke set, he made his mone:
Alas, what weights are these that load my heart!
I am as dull as Winter-sterued sheep,
Tir'd as a iade in ouer-loden cart;
Yet thoughts doe flie, though I can scarcely creepe.
All visions seeme; at euerie bush I start;
Drowsie am I, and yet can rarelie sleepe.
Sure I bewitched am; — it is euen that,
Late neare a crosse I met an vgly cat; —
For, but by charmes, how fall these things on me,
That from those eyes, where heau'nly apples bene, —
Those eyes (which nothing like themselues can see)
Of faire Vrania, fairer then a greene
Proudly bedect in April's liuery,
A shot vnheard gaue me a wound vnseene?
He was inuisible that hurt me so,
And none inuisible but spirits can goe.
When I see her, my sinewes shake for feare,
And yet, deare soule, I know she hurteth none;
Amid my flocke with woe my voice I teare,
And, but bewitch'd, who to his flocke would mone?
Her chery lips, milke hands, and golden haire
I still doe see, though I be still alone;
Now, make me thinke that there is not a fiend,
Who, hid in angel's shape, my life would end.
The sports wherein I wonted to do well,
Come she and sweet the aire with open breast,
Then so I faile, when most I would excell,
That at me, so amaz'd, my fellowes iest:
Sometimes to her newes of my selfe to tell
I goe about, but then is all my best,
Wry words and stam'ring, or else doltish dombe:
Say then, can this but of enchantement come?
Nay each thing is bewitcht to know my case:
The nightingales for woe their songs refraine;
In riuer as I look'd my pining face,
As pin'd a face as mine I saw againe;
The curteous mountaines, grieu'd at my disgrace,
Their snowie haire teare off in melting paine;
And now the dropping trees doe weepe for me,
And now faire euenings blush my shame to see
But you my pipe, whilome my chiefe delight,
Till straunge delight delight to nothing ware;
And you my flocke, care of my carefull sight
While I was I, and so had cause to care;
And thou my dogge, whose truth and valiant might
Made wolues (not inward wolues) my ewes to spare;
Goe you not from your maister in his woe;
Let it suffice that he himselfe forgoe.
For though like waxe this magicke makes me waste,
Or like a lambe, whose damme away is fet,
Stolne from her young by theeues' vnchoosing haste,
He trebble beas for help, but none can get;
Though thus, and worse, though now I am at last,
Of all the games that here ere now I met,
Doe you remember still you once were mine,
Till mine eyes had their curse from blessed eyne;
Be you with me while I vnheard doe crie,
While I doe score my losses on the wind,
While I in heart my will write ere I die;
In which by will my will and wits I bind
Still to be hers, about her ay to flie,
As this same sprite about my fancies blind
Doth daily haunt; but so that mine become
As much more louing as lesse cumbersome.
Alas, a cloud hath ouercast mine eyes,
And yet I see her shine amid the cloud
Alas, of ghosts I heare the gastlie cries,
Yet there, me seemes, I heare her singing loud:
This song she sings in most commanding wise, —
" Come, shepheard's boy, let now thy heart be bow'd,
To make it selfe to my least looke a slaue:
Leaue sleepe, leaue all, I will no piecing haue." —
I will, I will, alas, alas, I will:
Wilt thou haue more? more haue, if more I be.
Away ragg'd rammes, care I what murraine kill?
Out, shreaking pipe, made of some witched tree:
Goe, bawling curre, thy hungrie maw goe fill
On yon foule flocke, belonging not to mee.
With that his dog he henc'd, his flocke he curst,
With that (yet kissed first) his pipe he burst
This said, this done, he rose, euen tir'd with rest,
With heart as carefull as with carelesse grace,
With shrinking legges, but with a swelling breast,
With eyes which threatned they would drowne his face;
Fearing the worst, not knowing what were best,
And giuing to his sight a wandring race,
He saw behind a bush, where Klaius sate,
His well-knowne friend, but yet his vnknowne mate.
Klaius the wretch, who latelie yeelden was
To beare the bonds which time nor wit could breake,
(With blushing soule at sight of iudgement's glasse,
While guiltie thoughts accus'd his reason weake),
This morne alone to lonely walke did passe,
Within himselfe of her deare selfe to speake;
Till Strephon's plaining voice him nearer drew,
Where by his words his selfe-like case he knew.
For hearing him so oft with words of wo
Vrania name, whose force he knew so well,
He quickly knew what witchcraft gaue the blow,
Which made his Strephon thinke himselfe in hell:
Which when he did in perfect image show
To his owne wit, thought vpon thought did swell,
Breeding huge stormes within his inward part,
Which thus breath'd out with earthquake of his heart.