The mourning
Muse of
Thestylis.
COmeCome forth ye Nymphes come forth, forsake you
watry bowres,
Forsake your mossy cauescaves, and help me to lament:
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
IoyneJoyne
vsus to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound
Which fatall clap hath made; decreed by higher powres.
The dreery day in which they hauehave from vsus 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 vntimelyuntimely from the tree,
Whiles yet his yeares in flowre, did promise worthie frute.
Ah dreadful Mars why didst thou
not thy knight defend?
What wrathfull mood, what fault of ours hath mouedmoved thee
Of such a shining light to leaueleave
vsus destitute?
Tho with benigne aspect sometime didst vsus behold,
Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old,
And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute
Fame and renowme to vsus for glorious martiall deeds.
But now their ireful bemes hauehave chill’d our harts with cold,
Thou hast estrang’d thy self, and deignest not our land:
Farre off to others now, thy fauourfavour 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 hauehave heard the cry that woful EnglãdEngland made,
Eke Zelands piteous plaints, and Hollands toren heare
Would haply hauehave appeas’d thy diuinedivine angry mynd:
Thou shouldst hauehave 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:
VpUp from his tombe the mightie Corineus rose,
Who cursing oft the fates that this mishap had bred,
His hoary locks he tare, calling the heauensheavens
vnkindeunkinde.
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
SiluanSilvan
Gods likewise came running farre and
neere,
And all with teares bedeawd, and eyes cast vpup 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 cauecave or den, this cry did them so fright.
Out from amid the waueswaves, by storme then stirr’d to rage
This crie did cause to rise th’old father Ocean hoare,
Who grauegrave with eld, and full of maiestiemajestie 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 mouemove 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 nought herein they will preuaileprevaile.
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 vpup to heav’n, and courage franke as steele,
With cheerfull face, where valour liuelylively was exprest,
But humble mynd he said. O Lord if ought this fraile
And earthly carcasse hauehave thy seruiceservice sought t’aduauncet’advaunce,
If my desire hauehave bene still to relieuerelieve th’opprest:
If IusticeJustice to maintaine that valour I hauehave spent
Which thou me gau’stgav’st; or if henceforth I might aduaunceadvaunce
Thy name, thy truth, then spare me (Lord) if thou think best,
Forbeare these vnripeunripe yeares. But if thy will be bent,
If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set,
Through pure and feruentfervent faith, I hope now to be plast,
In th’euerlastingth’everlasting blis, which with thy precious blood
Thou purchase didst for vsus. With that a sigh he fet,
And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercastovercast,
His lips waxt pale and wan, like damaske roses bud
Cast from the stalke, or like in field to purple flowre,
VVhichWhich languisheth being shred by culter as it past.
A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines, which were
VVithWith eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre,
VVhoseWhose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare,
Next, murmuring ensude; at last they not forbeare
Plaine outcries, all against the heau’sheav’s that enuiouslyenviously
Depriv’d vsus of a spright so perfect and so rare.
The Sun his lightsom beames did shrowd, and hide his face
For griefe, whereby the earth feard night eternally:
The mountaines each where shooke, the riuersrivers 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 hauehave done of old.
Ah that thou hadst but heard his louelylovely
Stella plaine
Her greeuousgreevous losse, or seene her heauieheavie mourning cheere,
While she with woe opprest, her sorrowes did vnfoldunfold.
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 ioyjoy?
What cruell enuiousenvious 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
miserablemtserable brest?
O greedie enuiousenvious
heau’nheav’n what needed thee to hauehave
Enricht with such a IewellJewell this vnhappieunhappie age,
To take it back againe so soone? Alas when shall
Mine eies see ought that may content them, since thy grauegrave
My onely treasure hides the ioyesjoyes of my poore hart?
As herewith thee on earth I liv’d, eueneven so equall
Me thinkes it were with thee in heau’nheav’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 leaueleave 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 hauehave made thee milde, and inly rue her paine:
Aurora halfe so faire, her selfe did neuernever
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
VnderUnder those cristall drops, which fell from her faire eies,
And at their brightest beames him proynd in louelylovely wise.
Yet sorie for her grief, which he could not amend,
The gẽtlegentle boy gãgan 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 yuorieyvorie brest the treasure of delights.
All things with her to weep, it seemed, did encline,
The trees, the hills, the dales, the cauescaves, 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 vntwistuntwist.
For Phœbus gladsome raies were wished for in
vaine,
And with her quiueringquivering light Latonas daughter
faire,
And Charles-waine eke refus’d to be the shipmans
guide.
On Neptune warre was made by Aeolus and his traine,
Who letting loose the winds, tost and tormented th’aire,
So that on eu’ryev’ry coast men shipwrack did abide,
Or else were swallowed vpup in open sea with waueswaves,
And such as came to shoare, were beaten with despaire.
The Medwaies siluersilver streames, that wont so still to slide,
Were troubled &and now wrothe: whose hiddẽhidden hollow cauescaves
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 crauescraves)
With haire spred to the wynd themseluesthemselves to bath or sport,
Or with the hooke or net, barefooted wantonly
The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceiuedeceive.
The shepheards left their wonted places of resort,
Their bagpipes now were still; their louingloving mery layes
Were quite forgot; and now their flocks, mẽmen might perceiueperceive
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 louingloving pure affect,
HauingHaving affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne,
Where full of maiestiemajestie the high creator reignes.
In whose bright shining face thy ioyesjoyes are all complete,
Whose louelove kindles thy spright; where happie alwaies one,
Thou liu’stliv’st in blis that earthly passion neuernever 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
giuesgives thee place,
And Mars in reuerentreverent 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 eueneven they that boast
ThemseluesThemselves 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 wish their verses might so farre and wide thy fame
Extend, that enuiesenvies rage, nor time might end the same.
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