115

"O thou great shepheard, Lobbin, how great is thy griefe!
Where bene the nosegayes that she dight1 for thee?
The coloured chaplets wrought with a chiefe,
The knotted rush-ringes, and gilt rosemaree?
For shee deemed nothing too deere for thee.
Ah! they bene all yclad in clay;

One bitter blast blewe all away.

O heavie herse!

Thereof nought remaynes but the memoree;
O carefull verse!

120

"Ay me! that dreerie Death should strike so mortall stroke, That can undoe Dame Natures kindely course; The faded lockes fall from the loftie oke,

125

The flouds doe gaspe, for dryed is their sourse,

And flouds of teares flow in theyr stead perforce:
The mantled medowes mourne,

Theyr sundrie colours tourne.

O heavie herse!

130

The heavens doe melt in teares without remorse;
O carefull verse!

"The feeble flocks in field refuse their former foode,
And hang their heades as they would learne to weepe;
The beastes in forrest wayle as they were woode,2
Except the wolves, that chase the wandring sheepe,
Now shee is gone that safely did hem keepe:

The turtle on the bared braunch

Dight, prepared.

2 Woode, mad.

135

"The name of a shepheard, which seemeth to

have been the lover and deare friend of Dido."— E. K.

Ver. 115. Wrought with a chiefe.] Wrought into a head, like a nose gay.

Laments the wounde that Death did launch.

O heavie herse!

And Philomele her song with teares doth steepe;

O carefull verse!

140

"The water nymphs, that wont with her to sing and daunce, And for her girlond olive braunches beare,

Nowe balefull boughes of cypres doen advaunce;

145

The Muses, that were wont greene bayes to weare,

Now bringen bitter eldre braunches seare;

The Fatall Sisters eke repent

Her vitall threde so soone was spent.

O heavie herse!

Morne now, my Muse, now morne with heavy cheare;
O carefull verse!

"O trustlesse state of earthly things, and slipper1 hope
Of mortall men, that swincke2 and sweate for nought,
And, shooting wide, doth misse the marked scope 3;
Nowe have I learnde (a lesson deerely bought)
That nis on earth assuraunce to be sought;
For what might bee in earthly mould,

That did her buried body hould?

O heavie herse!

Yet saw I on the beere when it was brought;

O carefull verse!

"But maugre 5 Death, and dreaded Sisters deadly spight, And gates of hell, and fyrie furies force,

She hath the bonds broke of eternall night,

1 Slipper, slippery, uncertain.

150

155

160

165

2 Swincke, toil.

3 Marked scope, mark aimed at. Nis, is not.

5 Maugre, in spite of.

Her soule unbodied of the burdenous corse.
Why then weepes Lobbin so without remorse?

O Lobb! thy losse no longer lament;

Dido is dead, but into heaven hent.'

O happie herse!

Cease now, my Muse, now cease thy sorrowes sourse,
O ioyful verse!

170

"Why waile we then? why wearie we the gods with plaintes, As if some evill were to her betight"?

She raignes a goddesse now emong the saintes,

That whilome3 was the saynt of shepheards light,

And is enstalled nowe in heavens hight.

I see thee, blessed soule! I see

Walk in Elisian fieldes so free.

O happie herse!

Might I once come to thee, (O that I might!)
O ioyfull verse!

"Unwise and wretched men, to weete1 what's good or ill, Wee deeme of death as doome of ill desert;

But knewe wee, Fooles, what it us bringes untill,5
Dye would we daylie, once it to expert"!

No daunger there the shepheard can assert 7;

8

Fayre fieldes and pleasaunt layes there bene;

The fieldes aye fresh, the grasse ay greene.

O happie herse!

Make haste, yee shepheards, thether to revert.
O ioyfull verse!

1 Hent, taken.

2 Betight, happened.

3 Whilome, formerly.

4 Weete, know, imagine.

5 Untill, unto.

6 Expert, experience.
7 Assert, befall.
* Layes, leas, fields.

175

180

185

190

372

"Dido is gone afore; (whose turne shall be the next?)
There lives shee with the blessed gods in blisse,
There drincks she nectar with ambrosia mixt,
And ioyes enioyes that mortall men doe misse.
The honor now of highest gods she is,

1

That whilome was poore shepheards pride,
While here on earth shee did abide.

O happie herse!

Cease now, my song, my woe now wasted is;

O ioyfull verse!"

195

200

THE. Ay, franck shepheard, how bene thy verses meint With dolefull pleasaunce, so as I ne wotte 3

Whether reioyce or weepe for great constraint!
Thine be the cossette, well hast thou it gotte.
Up, Colin, up, ynough thou morned hast;
Now ginnes to mizzle, hye we homeward fast.

COLINS EMBLEME.*

La mort my mord.

1 Whilome, formerly. 2 Meint, mingled.

3 Ne wotte, know not.
4 Mizzle, to rain a little.

205

This emblem means, "Death bites not." Though we are doomed to die, yet the sting is taken from death by the assurance of life beyond

the grave.

DECEMBER.*

AEGLOGA DUODECIMA.

ARGUMENT.

THIS Aeglogue (even as the first began) is ended with a complaint of Colin to god Pan; wherein, as wearie of his former waies, hee proportioneth his life to the foure seasons of the yeare; comparing his youth to the spring time, when hee was fresh and free from loves follie. His manhood to the sommer, which, he saith, was consumed with great heate and excessive drouth, caused through a Comet or blazing Starre, by which hee meaneth love; which passion is commonly compared to such flames and immoderate heate. His ripest yeares he resembleth to an unseasonable harvest, wherein the fruits fall ere they be ripe. His latter age to winters chill and frostie season, now drawing neere to his last ende.

THE gentle shepheard sat beside a springe,

All in the shadowe of a bushye brere,1

That Colin hight, which well could pype and singe,
For hee of Tityrus his songes did lere 3:

There, as he satte in secret shade alone,
Thus gan hee make of love his piteous mone.

5

"This, which is one of his most finished and elegant pastorals, is literally translated from old Clement Marot."— WARTON.