Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 27

When Venus had done what she could In making of her carcase brave, Then Pallas thought she might be bold Among the rest a share to have; A pa.s.sing wit she did convey Into this pa.s.sing piece of clay.

Of Bacchus she no member had, Save fingers fine and feat[4] to see; Her head with hair Apollo clad, That G.o.ds had thought it gold to be: So glist'ring was the tress in sight Of this new form'd and featured wight.

Diana held her peace a s.p.a.ce, Until those other G.o.ds had done; 'At last,' quoth she, 'in Dian's chase With bow in hand this nymph shall run; And chief of all my n.o.ble train I will this virgin entertain.'

Then joyful Juno came and said, 'Since you to her so friendly are, I do appoint this n.o.ble maid To match with Mars his peer for war; She shall the Countess Warwick be, And yield Diana's bow to me.'

When to so good effect it came, And every member had his grace, There wanted nothing but a name: By hap was Mercury then in place, That said, 'I pray you all agree, Pandora grant her name to be.

'For since your G.o.dheads forged have With one a.s.sent this n.o.ble dame, And each to her a virtue gave, This term agreeth to the same.'

The G.o.ds that heard Mercurius tell This tale, did like it pa.s.sing well.

Report was summon'd then in haste, And will'd to bring his trump in hand, To blow therewith a sounding blast, That might be heard through Brutus' land.

Pandora straight the trumpet blew, That each this Countess Warwick knew.

O seely[5] Nature, born to pain, O woful, wretched kind (I say), That to forsake the soil were fain To make this Countess out of clay: But, O most friendly G.o.ds, that wold, Vouchsafe to set your hands to mould.

[1] 'Kind:' nature.

[2] 'Imps:' children.

[3] 'Wonne:' dwell.

[4] 'Feat:' neat.

[5] 'Seely:' simple.

In reference to the Miscellaneous Pieces which close this period, we need only say that the best of them is 'The Soul's Errand,' and that its authorship is uncertain. It has, with very little evidence in any of the cases, been ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh, to Francis Davison, (author of a compilation ent.i.tled 'A Poetical Rhapsody,' published in 1593, and where 'The Soul's Errand' first appeared,) and to Joshua Sylvester, who prints it in his volume of verses, with vile interpolations of his own.

Its outspoken energy and pithy language render it worthy of any of our poets.

HARPALUS' COMPLAINT OF PHILLIDA'S LOVE BESTOWED ON CORIN, WHO LOVED HER NOT, AND DENIED HIM THAT LOVED HER.

1 Phillida was a fair maid, As fresh as any flower; Whom Harpalus the herdman pray'd To be his paramour.

2 Harpalus, and eke Corin, Were herdmen both yfere:[1]

And Phillida would twist and spin, And thereto sing full clear.

3 But Phillida was all too coy For Harpalus to win; For Corin was her only joy, Who forced[2] her not a pin.

4 How often would she flowers twine, How often garlands make Of cowslips and of columbine, And all for Conn's sake!

5 But Corin he had hawks to lure, And forced more the field: Of lovers' law he took no cure; For once he was beguiled.

6 Harpalus prevailed nought, His labour all was lost; For he was furthest from her thought, And yet he loved her most.

7 Therefore was he both pale and lean, And dry as clod of clay: His flesh it was consumed clean; His colour gone away.

8 His beard it not long be shave; His hair hung all unkempt: A man most fit even for the grave, Whom spiteful love had shent.[3]

9 His eyes were red, and all forwacht;[4]

It seem'd unhap had him long hatcht, His face besprent with tears: In midst of his despairs.

10 His clothes were black, and also bare; As one forlorn was he; Upon his head always he ware A wreath of willow tree.

11 His beasts he kept upon the hill, And he sat in the dale; And thus with sighs and sorrows shrill He 'gan to tell his tale.

12 'O Harpalus!' thus would he say; Unhappiest under sun!

The cause of thine unhappy day By love was first begun.

13 'For thou went'st first by suit to seek A tiger to make tame, That sets not by thy love a leek, But makes thy grief a game.

14 'As easy it were for to convert The frost into the flame; As for to turn a froward hert, Whom thou so fain wouldst frame.

15 'Cerin he liveth careless: He leaps among the leaves: He eats the fruits of thy redress: Thou reap'st, he takes the sheaves.

16 'My beasts, a while your food refrain, And hark your herdman's sound; Whom spiteful love, alas! hath slain, Through girt with many a wound,

17 'O happy be ye, beastes wild, That here your pasture takes: I see that ye be not beguiled Of these your faithful makes,[5]

18 'The hart he feedeth by the hind: The buck hard by the doe: The turtle-dove is not unkind To him that loves her so.

19 'The ewe she hath by her the ram: The young cow hath the bull: The calf with many a l.u.s.ty lamb Do feed their hunger full.

20 'But, well-a-way! that nature wrought Thee, Phillida, so fair: For I may say that I have bought Thy beauty all too dear.

21 'What reason is that cruelty With, beauty should have part?

Or else that such great tyranny Should dwell in woman's heart?

22 'I see therefore to shape my death She cruelly is prest,[6]

To the end that I may want my breath: My days be at the best.

23 'O Cupid, grant this my request, And do not stop thine ears: That she may feel within her breast The pains of my despairs:

24 'Of Corin that is careless, That she may crave her fee: As I have done in great distress, That loved her faithfully.

25 'But since that I shall die her slave, Her slave, and eke her thrall, Write you, my friends, upon my grave This chance that is befall:

26 '"Here lieth unhappy Harpalus, By cruel love now slain: Whom Phillida unjustly thus Hath murder'd with disdain."'

[1] 'Yfere' together.

[2] 'Forced' cared for.

[3] 'Shent:' spoiled.

[4] 'Forwacht:' from much watching.

[5] 'Makes:' mates.

[6] 'Prest:' ready.

A PRAISE OF HIS LADY.