The Mourning Muse The mourning Muse of Thestylis. COme Come forth ye Nymphes come forth, forsake you watry (bowres, Forsake your mossy caues caves , 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 Ioyne Joyne vs us to mourne with wailfull plaints the deadly wound Which fatall clap hath made; decreed by higher powres. The dreery day in which they haue have from vs us 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 untimely 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 moued moved thee Of such a shining light to leaue leave vs us destitute? Tho with benigne aspect sometime didst vs us behold, Spake Thou hast in Britons valour tane delight of old, And with thy presence oft vouchsaft to attribute Fame and renowme to vs us for glorious martiall deeds. But now their ireful bemes haue have chill’d our harts with cold, Thou hast estrang’d thy self, and deignest not our land: Farre off to others now, thy fauour favour 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 have heard the cry that woful Englãd England made, Eke Zelands piteous plaints, and Hollands toren heare Would haply haue have appeas’d thy diuine divine angry mynd: Thou shouldst haue have 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 Up 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 heavens vnkinde unkinde . 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 Silvan Gods likewise came running farre and neere, And all with teares bedeawd, and eyes cast vp up 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 cave or den, this cry did them so fright. Out from amid the waues waves , by storme then stirr’d to rage This crie did cause to rise th’old father Ocean hoare, Who graue grave with eld, and full of maiestie majestie in sight, Depriv’d 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 move 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 preuaile prevaile . 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 up to heav’n, and courage franke as steele, With cheerfull face, where valour liuely lively was exprest, But humble mynd he said. O Lord if ought this fraile And earthly carcasse haue have thy seruice service sought t’aduaunce t’advaunce , If my desire haue have bene still to relieue relieve th’opprest: If Iustice Justice to maintaine that valour I haue have spent Which thou me gau’st gav’st ; or if henceforth I might aduaunce advaunce Thy name, thy truth, then spare me (Lord) if thou think best, Forbeare these vnripe unripe yeares. But if thy will be bent, If that prefixed time be come which thou hast set, Through pure and feruent fervent faith, I hope now to be plast, In th’euerlasting th’everlasting blis, which with thy precious blood Thou purchase didst for vs us . With that a sigh he fet, And straight a cloudie mist his sences ouercast overcast , His lips waxt pale and wan, like damaske roses bud Cast from the stalke, or like in field to purple flowre, VVhich Which languisheth being shred by culter as it past. A trembling chilly cold ran throgh their veines, which were VVith With eies brimfull of teares to see his fatall howre, VVhose Whose blustring sighes at first their sorrow did declare, Next, murmuring ensude; at last they not forbeare Plaine outcries, all against the heau’s heav’s that enuiously enviously Mine Depriv’d vs us 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 riuers rivers 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 have done of old. Ah that thou hadst but heard his louely lovely Stella plaine Her greeuous greevous losse, or seene her heauie heavie mourning cheere, While she with woe opprest, her sorrowes did vnfold unfold . 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 joy ? What cruell enuious envious 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 mtserable brest? O greedie enuious envious heau’n heav’n what needed thee to haue have Enricht with such a Iewell Jewell this vnhappie unhappie age, To take it back againe so soone? Alas when shall H The Mine eies see ought that may content them, since thy graue grave My onely treasure hides the ioyes joyes of my poore hart? As herewith thee on earth I liv’d, euen even so equall Me thinkes it were with thee in heau’n heav’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 leave 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 have made thee milde, and inly rue her paine: Aurora halfe so faire, her selfe did neuer never 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 Under those cristall drops, which fell from her faire eies, And at their brightest beames him proynd in louely lovely wise. Yet sorie for her grief, which he could not amend, The gẽtle gentle boy gã 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 yvorie brest the treasure of delights. All things with her to weep, it seemed, did encline, The trees, the hills, the dales, the caues caves , the stones so cold. Thou 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 untwist . For Phœbus gladsome raies were wished for in vaine, And with her quiuering quivering 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’ry ev’ry coast men shipwrack did abide, Or else were swallowed vp up in open sea with waues waves , And such as came to shoare, were beaten with despaire. The Medwaies siluer silver streames, that wont so still to slide, Were troubled & and now wrothe: whose hiddẽ hidden hollow caues caves 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 craves ) With haire spred to the wynd themselues themselves to bath or sport, Or with the hooke or net, barefooted wantonly The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceiue deceive . The shepheards left their wonted places of resort, Their bagpipes now were still; their louing loving mery layes Were quite forgot; and now their flocks, mẽ men might perceiue perceive 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 loving pure affect, Hauing Having affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne, Where full of maiestie majestie the high creator reignes. In whose bright shining face thy ioyes joyes are all complete, Whose loue love kindles thy spright; where happie alwaies one, H2 Help Thou liu’st liv’st in blis that earthly passion neuer never 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 gives thee place, And Mars in reuerent reverent 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 even they that boast Themselues Themselves 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 enuies envies rage, nor time might end the same.