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Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames;
Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems,
Was painted all with variable flowers,
And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems
Fit to deck maidens' bowers,
And crown their paramours
Against the bridal day, which is not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.
There in a meadow by the river's side
A flock of nymphs I chancéd to espy,
All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,
With goodly greenish Jocks all loose untied
As each had been a bride ;
And each one had a little wicker basket
Made of fine twigs, entrailéd curiously.
In which they gather'd flowers to fill their flasket,
And with fine fingers cropt full feateously
The tender stalks on high.
Of every sort which in that meadow grew
They gather'd some ; the violet, pa'lid b!ue
The little daisy that at evening closes,
The virgin lily and the primrose true,
With store of vermeil roses,
To deck their bridegrooms' posies
Against the bridal day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames : run softly, till I end my song. With that I saw two Swans of goodly hue Come softly swimming down along the Lee ; Two fairer birds I yet did never see ; The snow which doth the top of Pindus strow Did never whiter show, Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be For love of Leda, whiter did appear ; Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he, Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near ; So purely white they were That even the gentle stream, the which them bare, Seem'd foul to them, and bade his billows spare To wet their silken feathers, lest they might Soil their fair plumes with water not so fair,

And mar their beauties bright
That shone as Heaven's light
Against their bridal day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.
Eftsoons the nymphs, which now had flowers their fill,
Ran all in haste to see that silver brood
As they came floating on the crystal flood ;
Whom when they saw, they stood amazéd still
Their wondering eyes to fill ;
Them seem'd they never saw a sight so fair
Of fowls, so lovely, that they sure did deem
Them heavenly born, or to be that same pair
Which through the sky draw Venus' silver team ;
For sure they did not seem
To be begot of any earthly seed,
But rather Angels, or of Angels' breed ;
Yet were they bred of summer's heat, they say,
In sweelest season, when each flower and weed
The earth did fresh array ;
So fresh they seem'd as day,
Ev'n as their bridal day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song. Then forth they all out of their baskets drew Great store of flowers, the honour of the field, That to the sense did fragrant odours yield, All which upon those goodly birds they threw And all the waves did strew, That like old leneus' waters they did seem When down along by pleasant Tempe's shore Scatter'd with flowers, through Thessaly they stream, That they appear, through lilies' plenteous store, Like a bride's chamber-foor. Two of those nymphs meanwhile two garlands bound Of freshest flowers which in that mead they found, The which presenting all in trim array, Their snowy foreheads therewithal they crown'd; Whilst one did sing this lay Prepared against that day, Against their bridal day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.

'Ye gentle birds ! the world's fair ornament,
And Heaven's glory, whom this happy hour
Doth lead unto your lovers' blissful bower,
Joy may you have, and gentle heart's content
Of your love's couplement ;
And let fair Venus, that is queen of love,
With her heart-quelling son upon you smile,
Whose smile, they say, hath virtue to remove
All love's dislike, and friendship’s faulty guile
For ever to assoil.
Let endless peace your steadfast hearts accord,
And blesséd plenty wa't upon your board;
And let your bed with pleasures chaste abound,
That fruitful issue may to you afford
Which may your foes confound,
And make your joys redound
Upon your bridal day, which is not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.'
So ended she ; and all the rest around
To her redoubled that her undersong,
Which said their bridal day should not be long :
And gentle Echo from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.
So forth those joyous birds did pass along
Adown the Lee that to them murmur'd low,
As he would speak but that he lack'd a tongue;
Yet did by signs his glad affection show,
Making his stream run slow.
And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell
'Gan flock about these twain, that did excel
The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend
The lesser stars. So they, enrangéd well,
Did on those two attend,
And their best service lend
Against their wedding day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song. At length they all to merry London came, To merry London, my mot kindly nurse, That to me gave this life's first native source, Though from another place I take my name,

An house of ancient fame :
There when they came whereas those bricky towers
The which on Thames' broad agéd back do ride,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,
There whilome wont the Templar-knights to bide,
Till they decay'd through pride ;
Next whereunto there stands a stately place,
Where oft I gainéd gifts and goodly grace,
Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell,
Whose want too well now feels my friendless case ;
But ah! here fits not well
Old woes, but joys to tell
Against the bridal day, which is not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.
Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer,
Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder,
Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did

thunder,
And Hercules’ two pillars standing near
Did make to quake and fear :
Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry !
That fillest England with thy triumphs' fame
Joy have thou of thy noble victory,
And endless happiness of thine own name
That proiniseth the same ;
That through thy prowess and victorious arnis
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms,
And great Elisa's glorious name may ring
Through all the world, fill'd with thy wide alarms,
Which some brave Muse may sing
To ages following:
Upon the bridal day, which is not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.
From those high towers this noble lord issuing
Like radiant Hesper, when his golden hair
In th' ocean billows he hath bathéd fair,
Descended to the river's open viewing
With a great train ensuing.
Above the rest were goodly to be seen
Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature,

E

Beseeming well the bower of any queen,
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,
Fit for so goodly stature,
That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight
Which deck the baldric of the Heavens bright;
They two, forth pacing to the river's side,
Received those two fair brides, their love's delight ;
Which, at th' appointed tide,
Each one did make his bride
Against their bridal day, which is not long :
Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.

E. Spenser

LXXV

THE HAPPY HEART

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers ?

O sweet content !
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd ?

O punishment !
Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vex'd
To add to golden numbers, golden numbers ?
O sweet content ! O sweet, O sweet content !

Work apace, apace, apace, apace ;

Honest labour bears a lovely face ;
Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny !
Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring ?

O sweet content ! Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears?

O punishment !
Then he that patiently want's burden bears
No burden bears, but is a king, a king !
O sweet content ! O sweet, Osweet content !

Work apace, apace, apace, apace ;

Honest labour bears a lovely face ;
Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!

T. Dekker

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