Classic Poem

Now till the sun shall leave us to our rest,
And Cynthia have her brother's place possess'd,
I shall go on: and first in diff'ring stripe,
The flood-god's speech thus tune on oaten pipe.
Or mortal, or a power above,
Enrag'd by fury, or by love,
Or both, I know not; such a deed
Thou wouldst effected, that I bleed
To think thereon: alas! poor elf,
What, grown a traitor to thyself?
This face, this hair, this hand so pure
Were not ordain'd for nothing, sure.
Nor was it meant so sweet a breath
Should be expos'd by such a death;
But rather in some lover's breast
Be given up, the place that best
Befits a lover yield this soul.
Nor should those mortals e'er control
The gods, that in their wisdom sage
Appointed have what pilgrimage
Each one should run: and why should men
Abridge the journey set by them?
But much I wonder any wight
If he did turn his outward sight
Into his inward, dar'd to act
Her death, whose body is compact
Of all the beauties ever Nature
Laid up in store for earthly creature.
No savage beast can be so cruel
To rob the earth of such a jewel.
Rather the stately unicorn
Would in his breast enraged scorn,
That maids committed to his charge
By any beast in forest large
Should so be wronged. Satyrs rude
Durst not attempt, or e'er intrude
With such a mind the flow'ry balks
Where harmless virgins have their walks.
Would she be won with me to stay,
My waters should bring from the sea
The coral red, as tribute due,
And roundest pearls of Orient hue:
Or in the richer veins of ground
Should seek for her the diamond.
And whereas now unto my spring
They nothing else but gravel bring,
They should within a mine of gold
In piercing manner long time hold,
And having it to dust well wrought,
By them it hither should be brought;
With which I'll pave and overspread
My bottom, where her foot shall tread.
The best of fishes in my flood
Shall give themselves to be her food.
The trout, the dace, the pike, the bream,
The eel, that loves the troubled stream,
The miller's thumb, the hiding loach,
The perch, the ever-nibbling roach,
The shoats with whom is Tavy fraught,
The foolish gudgeon, quickly caught,
And last the little minnow-fish,
Whose chief delight in gravel is.
In right she cannot me despise
Because so low mine empire lies.
For I could tell how Nature's store
Of majesty appeareth more
In waters than in all the rest
Of elements. It seem'd her best
To give the waves most strength and power:
For they do swallow and devour
The earth; the waters quench and kill
The flames of fire: and mounting still
Up in the air, are seen to be
As challenging a seignorie
Within the heavens, and to be one
That should have like dominion.
They be a ceiling and a floor
Of clouds, caus'd by the vapours' store
Arising from them, vital spirit
By which all things their life inherit
From them is stopped, kept asunder,
And what's the reason else of thunder,
Of lightning's flashes all about,
That with such violence break out,
Causing such troubles and such jars,
As with itself the world had wars?
And can there anything appear
More wonderful than in the air
Congealed waters oft to spy
Continuing pendant in the sky?
Till falling down in hail or snow,
They make those mortal wights below
To run, and ever help desire
From his foe element the fire,
Which fearing then to come abroad,
Within doors maketh his abode;
Or falling down ofttime in rain,
Doth give green liveries to the plain,
Make[s] shepherds' lambs fit for the dish,
And giveth nutriment to fish;
Which nourisheth all things of worth
The earth produceth and brings forth;
And therefore well considering.
The nature of it in each thing:
As when the teeming earth doth grow
So hard, that none can plough nor sow,
Her breast it doth so mollify,
That it not only comes to be
More easy for the share and ox,
But that in harvest times the shocks
Of Ceres' hanging eared corn
Doth fill the hovel and the barn.
To trees and plants I comfort give.
By me they fructify and live:
For first ascending from beneath
Into the sky, with lively breath,
I thence am furnish'd, and bestow
The same on herbs that are below.
So that by this each one may see
I cause them spring and multiply.
Who seeth this can do no less,
Than of his own accord confess,
That notwithstanding all the strength
The earth enjoys in breadth and length,
She is beholding to each stream,
And hath received all from them.
Her love to him she then must give
By whom herself doth chiefly live.