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The Gods which all things see, this same beheld, To men? ah they alas like wretched bee,
And pittying this paire of louers trew, And subiect to the heauens ordinance :
Transformed them there lying on the field, Bound to abide what euer they decree,
Into one flowre that is both red and blew. Their best redresse, is their best sufferance.
It first growes red, and then to blew doth fade, How then can they, like wretched, comfort
Like Astrophel, which thereinto was made.

mee, And in the midst thereof a star appeares,

The which no lesse, need comforted to bee ? As fairly formd as any star in skyes : Then to my selfe will I my sorrow mourne, Resembling Stella in her freshest yeares, Sith none aliue like sorrowfull remaines : Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes, And to my selfe my plaints shall back retourne, And all the day it standeth full of deow, 191 To pay their vsury with doubled paines. Which is the teares, that from her eyes did flow. The woods, the hills, the riuers shall resound That hearbe of some, Starlight is cald by name, The mournfull accent of my sorrowes ground. Of others Penthia, though not so well Woods, hills and riuers, now are desolate, But thou where euer thou doest finde the same, Sith he is gone the which them all did grace: From this day forth do call it Astrophel. And all the fields do waile their widow state, And when so euer thou it vp doest take, Sith death their fairest flowre did late deface. Do pluck it softly for that shepheards sake. The fairest flowre in field that euer grew, Hereof when tydings far abroad did passe, Was Astrophel; that was, we all may rew, The shepheards all which loued him full deare, What cruell hand of cursed foe vnknowne, 31 And sure full deare of all he loued was,

201 Hath cropt the stalke which bore so faire a Did thether flock to see what they did heare. flowre? And when that pitteous spectacle they vewed. Vntimely cropt, before it well were growne, The same with bitter teares they all bedewed. And cleane defaced in vntimely howre. And euery one did make exceeding mone, Great losse to all that euer him did see, With inward anguish and great griefe opprest: Great losse to all, but greatest losse to mee. And every one did weep and waile, and mone, Breake now your gyrlonds, O ye shepheards And meanes deviz'd to shew his sorrow best.

lasses, That from that houre since first on grassie Sith the faire flowre, which them adornd, is gon: greene

The flowre, which them adornd, is gone to Shepheards kept sheep, was not like mourning

ashes,

210 Neuer againe let lasse put gyrlond on. 40 But first his sister that Clorinda hight,

In stead of gyrlond, weare sad Cypres nowe, The gentlest shepheardesse that liues this day: And bitter Elder, broken from the bowe. And most resembling both in shape and spright Ne euer sing the loue-layes which he made, Her brother deare, began this dolefull lay.

Who euer made such layes of loue as hee? Which least I marre the sweetnesse of the Ne euer read the riddles, which he sayd vearse,

Vnto your selues, to make you mery glee. In sort as she it sung, I will rehearse.

Your mery glee is now laid all abed, Y to whom shall I my case com

Your mery maker now alasse is dead.

Death the deuourer of all worlds delight, That may compassion my impatient griefe ? Hath robbed you and reft fro me my ioy : 50 Or where shall I enfold my inward paine, Both

you

and all the world he quight That my enriuen heart may find reliefe ? Hath robd of ioyance, and left sad annoy. Shall I vnto the heauenly powres it show ? loy of the world, and shepheards pride was Or vnto earthly men that dwell below ?

hee, To heauens ? ah they alas the authors were,

Shepheards hope neuer like againe to see. And workers of my vnremedied wo:

Oh death that hast vs of such riches reft, For they foresee what to vs happens here, Tell vs at least, what hast thou with it done? And they foresaw, yet suffred this be so. 10 What is become of him whose flowre here left From them comes good, from hem comes Is but the shadow of his likenesse gone. also il,

Scarse like the shadow of that which he was, That which they made, who can them warne Nought like, but that he like a shade to spill.

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seen.

A plaine,

me,

and me,

did pas.

But that immortall spirit, which was deckt There liueth he in euerlasting blis,
With all the dowries of celestiall grace: Sweet spirit neuer fearing more to die:
By soueraine choyce from th'heuenly quires Ne dreading harme from any foes of his,
select,

Ne fearing saluage beasts more crueltie.
And lineally deriv'd from Angels race,

Whilestwehere wretches waile his priuate lack, O what is now of it become, aread.

And with vaine vowes do often call him back. Ay me, can so diuine a thing be dead? But liue thou there still happie, happie spirit, Ah no: it is not dead, ne can it die,

And giue vs leaue thee here thus to lament: But liues for aie, in blisfull Paradise :

Not thee that doest thy heauens ioy inherit, Where like a new-borne babe it soft doth lie. But our owne selues that here in dole are drent. In bed of lillies wrapt in tender wise. 70 Thus do we weep and waile, and wear our eies,

And compast all about with roses sweet, Mourning in others, our owne miseries. And daintie violets from head to feet.

Which when she ended had, another swaine There thousand birds all of celestiall brood, Of gentle wit and daintie sweet deuice : To him-do sweetly caroll day and night: Whom Astrophel full deare did entertaine, 99 And with straungenotes,of him wellvnderstood, Whilest here he liv'd, and held in passing price, Lull him a sleep in Angelick delight;

Hight Thestylis, began his mournfull tourne, Whilest in sweet dreame to him presented bee And made the Muses in his song to mourne.

Immortall beauties, which no eye may see. And after him full many other moe,
But he them sees and takes exceeding pleasure As euerie one in order lov'd him best,
Of their diuine aspects, appearing plaine, 80 Gan dight themselues t'expresse their inward
And kindling loue in him aboue all measure, woe,
Sweet loue still ioyous, neuer feeling paine. With dolefull layes vnto the time addrest,

For what so goodly forme he there doth see, The which I here in order will rehearse,
He may enioy from iealous rancor free. As fittest flowres to deck his mournfull hearse.

The mourning Muse of Thestylis.
C

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Ome forth ye Nymphes come forth, forsake your watry bowres,
Help me to tune my dolefull notes to gurgling sound
Of Liffies tumbling streames : Come let salt teares of ours,
Mix with his waters fresh. O come, let one consent
Ioyne vs to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound
Which fatall clap hath made ; decreed by higher powres.
The dreery day in which they haue from vs yrent
The noblest plant that might from East to West be found.
Mourne, mourn, great Philips fall, mourn we his wofull end,
Whom spitefull death hath pluct vntimely from the tree,
Whiles yet his yeares in flowre, did promise worthie frute.

Ah dreadfull Mars why didst thou not thy knight defend ?
What wrathfull mood, what fault of ours hath moued thee
Of such a shining light to leaue vs destitute ?
Thou with benigne aspect sometime didst vs behold,
Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old,
And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute
Fame and renowme to vs for glorious martiall deeds.
But now thy ireful bemes haue chill'd our harts with cold ;
Thou hast estrang'd thy self, and deignest not our land :
Farre off to others now, thy fauour honour breeds,
And high disdaine doth cause thee shun our clime (I feare)
For hadst thou not bene wroth, or that time neare at hand,
Thou wouldst haue heard the cry that woful England made,
Eke Zelands piteous plaints, and Hollands toren heare

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Would haply haue appeas'd thy diuine angry mynd:
Thou shouldst haue seen the trees refuse to yeeld their shade,
And wailing to let fall the honor of their head,
And birds in mournfull tunes lamenting in their kinde:
Vp from his tombe the mightie Corineus rose,
Who cursing oft the fates that this mishap had bred,
His hoary locks he tare, calling the heauens vnkinde.
The Thames was heard to roare, the Reyne and eke the Mose,
The Schald, the Danow selfe this great mischance did rue,
With torment and with grief ; their fountains pure and cleere
Were troubled, and with swelling flouds declar'd their woes.
The Muses comfortles, the Nymphs with paled hue,
The Siluan Gods likewise came running farre and neere,
And all with teares bedeawd, and eyes cast vp on hie,
O help, O help ye Gods, they ghastly gan to crie.
O chaunge the cruell fate of this so rare a wight,
And graunt that natures course may measure out his age.
The beasts their foode forsooke, and trembling fearfully,
Each sought his caue or den, this cry did them so fright.
Out from amid the waues, by storme then stirr'd to rage
This crie did cause to rise th’old father Ocean hoare,
Who graue with eld, and full of maiestie in sight,
Spake in this wise. Refrain (quoth he) your teares and plaints,
Cease these your idle words, make vaine requests no more.
No humble speech nor mone, may moue the fixed stint
Of destinie or death: Such is his will that paints
The earth with colours fresh; the darkest skies with store
Of starry lights: And though your teares a hart of flint
Might tender make, yet nougnt herein they will preuaile.

Whiles thus he said, the noble knight, who gan to feele
His vitall force to faint, and death with cruell dint
Of direfull dart his mortall bodie to assaile,
With eyes lift vp to heav'n, and courage franke as steele,
With cheerfull face, where valour liuely was exprest,
But humble mynd he said. O Lord if ought this fraile
And earthly carcasse haue thy seruice sought t'aduaunce,
If my desire haue bene still to relieue th'opprest :
If lustice to maintaine that valour I haue spent
Which thou me gau'st ; or if henceforth I might aduaunce
Thy name, thy truth, then spare me (Lord) if thou think best ;
Forbeare these vnripe yeares. But if thy will be bent,
If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set,
Through pure and feruent faith, I hope now to be plast,
In th’euerlasting blis, which with thy precious blood
Thou purchase didst for vs. With that a sigh he fet,
And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercast,
His lips waxt pale and wan, like damaske roses bud
Cast from the stalke, or like in field to purple flowre,
Which languisheth being shred by culter as it past.
A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines, which were
With eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre,
Whose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare,
Next, murmuring ensude ; at last they not forbeare
Plaine outcries, all against the heau'ns that enuiously
Depriv'd vs of a spright so perfect and so rare.
The Sun his lightsom beames did shrowd, and hide his face

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For griefe, whereby the earth feard night eternally:
The mountaines eachwhere shooke, the riuers turn'd their streames,
And th’aire gan winterlike to rage and fret apace:
And grisly ghosts by night were seene, and fierie gleames,
Amid the clouds with claps of thunder, that did seeme
To rent the skies, and made both man and beast afeard:
The birds of ill presage this lucklesse chance foretold,
By dernfull noise, and dogs with howling made man deeme
Some mischief was at hand: for such they do esteeme
As tokens of mishap, and so haue done of old.

Ah that thou hadst but heard his louely Stella plaine
Her greeuous losse, or seene her heauie mourning cheere,
While she with woe opprest, her sorrowes did vnfold.
Her haire hung lose neglect, about her shoulders twaine,
And from those two bright starres, to him sometime so deere,
Her heart sent drops of pearle, which fell in foyson downe
Twixt lilly and the rose. She wroong her hands with paine,
And piteously gan say, My true and faithfull pheere,
Alas and woe is me, why should my fortune frowne
On me thus frowardly to rob me of my ioy ?
What cruell enuious hand hath taken thee away,
And with thee my content, my comfort and my stay?
Thou onelie wast the ease of trouble and annoy:
When they did me assaile, in thee my hopes did rest.
Alas what now is left but grief, that night and day
Afflicts this wofull life, and with continuall rage
Torments ten thousand waies my miserable brest ?
O greedie enuious heau'n what needed thee to haue
Enricht with such a lewell this vnhappie age,
To take it back againe so soone ? Alas when shall
Mine eies see ought that may content them, since thy graue
My onely treasure hides the ioyes of my poore hart?
As here with thee on earth I liv’d, euen so equall
Methinkes it were with thee in heau'n I did abide :
And as our troubles all we here on earth did part,
So reason would that there of thy most happie state
I had my share. Alas if thou my trustie guide
Were wont to be, how canst thou leaue me thus alone
In darknesse and astray ; weake, wearie, desolate,
Plung'd in a world of woe, refusing for to take
Me with thee, to the place of rest where thou art gone.
This said, she held her peace, for sorrow tide her toong;
And insteed of more words, seemd that her eies a lake
Of teares had bene, they flow'd so plenteously therefro:
And with her sobs and sighs, th'aire round about her roong.

If Venus when she waild her deare Adonis slaine,
Ought moov’d in thy fiers hart compassion of her woe,
His noble sisters plaints, her sighes and teares emong,
Would sure haue made thee milde, and inly rue her paine:
Aurora halfe so faire, her selfe did neuer show,
When from old Tithons bed, shee weeping did arise.
The blinded archer-boy, like larke in showre of raine
Sat bathing of his wings, and glad the time did spend
Vnder those cristall drops, which fell from her faire eies,
And at their brightest beames him proynd in louely wise.
Yet sorie for her grief, which he could not amend,

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The gentle boy gan wipe her eies, and clear those lights,
Those lights through which, his glory and his conquests shine.
The Graces tuckt her hair, which hung like threds of gold,
Along her yuorie brest the treasure of delights.
All things with her to weep, it seemed, did encline,
The trees, the hills, the dales, the caues, the stones so cold.
The aire did help them mourne, with dark clouds, raine and mist,
Forbearing many a day to cleare it selfe againe,
Which made them eftsoones feare the daies of Pirrha shold,
Of creatures spoile the earth, their fatall threds vntwist.
For Phæbus gladsome raies were wished for in vaine,
And with her quiuering light Lalonas daughter faire,
And Charles-waine eke refus'd to be the shipmans guide.
On Neplune warre was made by Aeolus and his traine,
Who letting loose the winds, tost and tormented th'aire,
So that on eu'ry coast men shipwrack did abide,
Or else were swallowed vp in open sea with waues,
And such as came to shoare, were beaten with despaire.
The Medwaies siluer streames, that wont so still to slide,
Were troubled now and wrothe: whose hidden hollow caues
Along his banks with fog then shrowded from mans eye,
Ay Phillip did resownd, aie Phillip they did crie.
His Nimphs were seen no more (thogh custom stil it craues)
With haire spred to the wynd themselues to bath or sport,
Or with the hooke or net, barefooted wantonly
The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceive.
The shepheards left their wonted places of resort,
Their bagpipes now were still; their louing mery layes
Were quite forgot ; and now their flocks, men might perceiue
To wander and to straie, all carelesly neglect.
And in the stead of mirth and pleasure, nights and dayes,
Nought els was to be heard, but woes, complaints and mone.

But thou (O blessed soule) doest haply not respect,
These teares we shead, though full of louing pure affect,
Hauing affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne,
Where full of maiestie the high creator reignes.
In whose bright shining face thy ioyes are all complete,
Whose loue kindles thy spright, where happie alwaies one,
Thou liu'st in blis that earthly passion neuer staines ;
Where from the purest spring the sacred Nectar sweete
Is thy continuall drinke: where thou doest gather now
Of well emploied life, th'inestimable gaines.
There Venus on thee smiles, Apollo giues thee place,
And Mars in reuerent wise doth to thy vertue bow,
And decks his fiery sphere, to do thee honour most.
In highest part whereof, thy valour for to grace,
A chaire of gold he setts to thee, and there doth tell
Thy noble acts arew, whereby euen they that boast
Themselues of auncient fame, as Pirrhus, Hanniball,
Scipio and Cæsar, with the rest that did excell
In martiall prowesse, high thy glorie do admire.

All haile therefore O worthie Phillip immortall,
The flowre of Sydneyes race, the honour of thy name,
Whose worthie praise to sing, my Muses not aspire,
But sorrowfull and sad these teares to thee let fall,
Yet with their verses might so farre and wide thy fame
Extend, that enuies rage, nor time might end the same.

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