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O heauie herse.

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O thou greate shepheard Lobbin, how great is thy griefe,

Breake we our pypes, that shrild as lowde as Where bene the nosegayes that she dight forthee:

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The colourd chaplets wrought with a chiefe,
The knotted rushrings, and gilte Rosemaree?
For shee deemed nothing too deere for thee.
Ah they bene all yclad in clay,
One bitter blast blewe all away.

O heauie herse,

Thereof nought remaynes but the memoree. O carefull verse.

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Ay me that drcerie death should strike so mortall stroke,

That can vndoe Dame natures kindly course:
The faded lockes fall from the loftie oke,
The flouds do gaspe, for dryed is theyr sourse,

And flouds of teares flowe in theyr stead Why then weepes Lobbin so without remorse?

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O Lobb, thy losse no longer lament, Dido nis dead, but into heauen hent.

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Dido is gone afore (whose turne shall be the next?)

There liues shee with the blessed Gods in blisse, There drincks she Nectar with Ambrosia mixt,

O trustlesse state of earthly things, and slipper And ioyes enioyes, that mortall men doe misse.

hope

Of mortal men, nought,

that swincke and sweate for

And shooting wide, doe misse the marked

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The honor now of highest gods she is,
That whilome was poore shepheards pryde,
While here on earth she did abyde.

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GLOSSE.

Iouisaunce) myrth.
Herie) honour.
Welked) shortned or empayred. As the Moone
being in the waine is sayde of Lidgate to welk.
In lowly lay) according to the season of the moneth
Nouember, when the sonne draweth low in the
South toward his Tropick or returne.

Souenaunce) remembraunce.

In fishes haske) the sonne, reigneth that is, in the signe Pisces all Nouember. A haske is a wicker pad, wherein they vse to cary fish.

Virelaies) a light kind of song.

Bee watred) For it is a saying of Poetes, that they haue dronk of the Muses well Castalias, whereof was before sufficiently sayd.

Dreriment) dreery and heauy cheere.

The great shepheard) is some man of high degree, and not as some vainely suppose God Pan. The person both of the shephearde and of Dido is vnknowen and closely buried in the Authors conceipt. But out of doubt I am, that it is not Rosalind, as some imagin: for he speaketh soone after of her also.

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Melpomene) The sadde and waylefull Muse vsed of Poets in honor of Tragedies: as saith Virgile Melpomene Tragico proclamat mæsta boatu. Vp griesly gosts) The maner of Tragicall Poetes, to call for helpe of Furies and damned ghostes: so is Hecuba of Euripides, and Tantalus brought in of Seneca. And the rest of the rest. Herse) is the solemne obsequie in funeralles. Wast of) decay of so beautifull a peece. Carke) care.

Ah why) an elegant Epanorthosis. As also soone after. Nay time was long ago.

Flouret) a diminutiue for a little floure. This is a notable and sententious comparison A minore ad maius.

Reliuen not) liue not againe .s. not in theyr earthly bodies for in heauen they enioy their due reward.

The braunch) He meaneth Dido, who being, as it were the mayne braunch now withered the buddes that is beautie (as he sayd afore) can no more flourish.

With cakes) fit for shepheards bankets.

desired to be turned into a byrd of her name. Whose complaintes be very well set forth of Ma. George Gaskin a wittie gentleman, and the very chefe of our late rymers, who and if some partes of learning wanted not (albee it is well knowen he altogyther wanted not learning) no doubt would haue attayned to the excellencye of those famous Poets. For gifts of wit and naturall promptnesse appeare in hym aboundantly.

Cypresse) vsed of the old Paynims in the furnishing of their funerall Pompe. And properly the signe of all sorow and heauinesse.

The fatall sisters) Clotho Lachesis and Atropos, daughters of Herebus and the Nighte, whom the Poetes fayne to spinne the life of man, as it were a long threde, which they drawe out in length, till his fatal howre and timely death be come; but if by other casualtie his dayes be abridged, then one of them, that is Atropos, is sayde to haue cut the threde in twain. Hereof commeth

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Furies) of Poetes be feyned to be three, Persephone
Alecto and Megera, which are sayd to be the
Authours of all euill and mischiefe.
Eternall might) Is death or darknesse of hell.
Betight) happened.

I see) A liuely Icon, or representation as if he saw her in heauen present.

Elysian fieldes) be deuised of Poetes to be a place of pleasure like Paradise, where the happye soules doe rest in peace and eternal happynesse. Dye would) The very expresse saying of Plato in Phædone.

Astert) befall vnwares.

Nectar and Ambrosia) be feigned to be the drink and foode of the gods: Ambrosia they liken to Manna in scripture and Nectar to be white like Creme, whereof is a proper tale of Hebe, that spilt a cup of it, and stayned the heauens, as yet appeareth. But I haue already discoursed that at large in my Commentarye vpon the dreames of the same Authour.

Heame) for home. After the northerne pro- Meynt) Mingled. nouncing.

Tinct) deyed or stayned.

The gaudie) the meaning is, that the things, which were the ornaments of her lyfe, are made the honor of her funerall, as is vsed in burialls. Lobbin) the name of a shepherd, which seemeth to haue bene the louer and deere frende of Dido. Rushrings) agreeable for such base gyftes. Faded lockes) dryed leaues. Asif Nature her selfe bewayled the death of the Mayde. Sourse) spring.

Mantled medowes) for the sondry flowres are like a Mantle or couerlet wrought with many colours. Philomele) the Nightingale. Whome the Poetes faine once to haue bene a Ladye of great beauty, till being rauished by hir sisters husbande, she

Embleme.

Which is as much to say, as death biteth not. For although by course of nature we be borne to dye, and being ripened with age, as with a timely haruest, we must be gathered in time, or els of our selues we fall like rotted ripe fruite fro the tree yet death is not to be counted for euil, nor (as the Poete sayd a little before) as doome of ill desert. For though the trespasse of the first man brought death into the world, as the guerdon of sinne, yet being ouercome by the death of one, that dyed for al, it is now made (as Chaucer sayth) the grene path way to lyfe. So that it agreeth well with that was sayd, that Death byteth not (that is) hurteth not at all.

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ARGVMENT.

Egloga Duodecima.

Thi His Eglogue (euen as the first beganne) is ended with a complaynte of Colin to God Pan. Wherein as weary of his former wayes, he proportioneth his life to the foure seasons of the yeare, comparing hys youthe to the spring time, when he was fresh and free from loues follye. His manhoode to the sommer, which he sayth, was consumed with greate heate and excessiue drouth caused throughe a Comet or blasinge starre, by which hee meaneth loue, which passion is comenly compared to such flames and immoderate heate. His riper yeares hee resembleth to an vnseasonable harueste wherein the fruites fall ere they be rype. His latter age to winters chyll and frostie season, now drawing neare to his last ende.

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Als of their maisters hast no lesse regarde, Then of the flocks, which thou doest watch and ward:

I thee beseche (so be thou deigne to heare,
Rude ditties tund to shepheards Oaten reede,
Or if I euer sonet song so cleare,
As it with pleasaunce mought thy fancie feede)
Hearken awhile from thy greene cabinet,
The rurall song of carefull Colinet.
Whilome in youth, when flowrdmy ioyfullspring,
Like Swallow swift I wandred here and there:
For heate of heedlesse lust me so did sting, 21
That I of doubted daunger had no feare.

I went the wastefull woodes and forest wyde.
Withouten dreade of Wolues to bene espyed.
I wont to raunge amydde the mazie thickette,
And gather nuttes to make me Christmas game:
And ioyed oft to chace the trembling Pricket,
Or hunt the hartlesse hare, til shee were tame.
What wreaked I of wintrye ages waste,
Tho deemed I, my spring would euer laste.
How often haue I scaled the craggie Oke, 31
All to dislodge the Rauen of her neste:
Howe haue I wearied with many a stroke
The stately Walnut tree, the while the rest
Vnder the tree fell all for nuts at strife:
For ylike to me was libertee and lyfe.

And for I was in thilke same looser yeares,
(Whether the Muse so wrought me from my
birth,

Or I tomuch beleeued my shepherd peres)
Somedele ybent to song and musicks mirth.
A good olde shephearde, Wrenock was his

name,

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Made me by arte more cunning in the same. Fro thence I durst in derring doe compare With shepheards swayne, what euer fedde in field:

And if that Hobbinol right iudgement bare, To Pan his owne selfe pype I neede not yield. For if the flocking Nymphes did folow Pan, The wiser Muses after Colin ranne.

But ah such pryde at length was ill repayde,
The shepheards God (perdie God was he none)
My hurtlesse pleasaunce did me ill vpbraide,
My freedome lorne, my life he lefte to mone.
Loue they him called, that gaue me check-
mate,

But better mought they haue behote him
Hate.

Tho gan my louely Spring bid me farewel,
And Sommer season sped him to display
(For loue then in the Lyons house did dwell)
The raging fyre, that kindled at his ray.

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A comett stird vp that vnkindly heate, That reigned (as men sayd) in Venus seate. Forth was I ledde, not as I wont afore, When choise I had to choose my wandring waye: But whether luck and loues vnbridled lore Would leade me forth on Fancies bitte to playe, The bush my bedde, the bramble was my bowre,

The Woodes can witnesse many a wofull

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And which be wont t'enrage the restlesse sheepe,

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And which be wont to worke eternall sleepe. But ah vnwise and witlesse Colin cloute, That kydst the hidden kinds of many a wede: Yet kydst not ene to cure thy sore hart roote, Whose ranckling wound as yet does rifelye bleede.

Why liuest thou stil, and yet hast thy deathes wound?

Why dyest thou stil, and yet aliue art founde?

Thus is my sommer worne away and wasted,
Thus is my haruest hastened all to rathe:
The eare that budded faire, is burnt and
blasted,

And all my hoped gaine is turnd to scathe. 100
Of all the seede, that in my youth was sowne,
Was nought but brakes and brambles to be

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Theyr rootes bene dryed vp for lacke of dewe, 71 Yet dewed with teares they han be euer among. Ah who has wrought my Rosalind this spight To spil the flowres, that should her girlond dight?

The ghastlie Owle her grieuous ynne doth keepe.

Then as the springe giues place to elder time, And bringeth forth the fruite of sommers pryde: All so my age now passed youngthly pryme, To thinges of ryper reason selfe applyed.

And learnd of lighter timber cotes to frame, Such as might saue my sheepe and me fro shame.

And I, that whilome wont to frame my pype, Vnto the shifting of the shepheards foote: Sike follies nowe haue gathered as too ripe, And cast hem out, as rotten and vnsoote.

The loser Lasse I cast to please nomore, One if I please, enough is me therefore. 120

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