5 10 15 As bolde as Isenbras: Fell was he, and eger bent, He had, as antique stories tell, A mayden fayre and free: Of mickle curtesie. The silke well couth she twist and twine, And with the needle werke: And she couth helpe the priest to say His mattins on a holy-day, And sing a psalme in kirke. She ware a frock of frolicke greene, A hood to that so neat and fine, Y-wrought full featously. Her features all as fresh above, As is the grasse that growes by Dove; And lyth as lasse of Kent. Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll, Or swanne that swims in Trent. This mayden in a morne betime Went forth, when May was in her prime, To get sweete cetywall, Thus, as she wandred here and there, A shepheard sitting on a bancke, He lear'd his sheepe as he him list, To feede about him round; In favour this same shepheards swayne Which helde prowd kings in awe: Whom his lewd brother slaw. The shepheard ware a sheepe-gray cloke, That could be cut with sheere: His mittens were of bauzens skinne, His cockers were of cordiwin, His hood of meniveere. 60 1 Alluding to Tamburlaine the great, or the Scythian Shepheard,' 1590, 8vo, an old ranting play ascribed to Marlowe.-2 Sc. Abel. 55 50 45 40 335 His aule and lingell in a thong, Full crispe and curled were his lockes, So like a lover true, And pyping still he spent the day, Which liked Dowsabel: That would she ought, or would she nought, This lad would never from her thought; She in love-longing fell. At length she tucked up her frocke, But then the shepheard pyp'd a good, That all his sheepe forsooke their foode, "Thy sheepe,' quoth she, cannot be leane, That have a jolly shepheards swayne, The which can pipe so well:' 'Yea but,' sayth he, their shepheard may, If pyping thus he pine away In love of Dowsabel.' Of love, fond boy, take thou no keepe,' Come forth to gather maye.' 65 70 75 80 85 90 With that she gan to vaile her head, But not a word she sayd: With that the shepheard gan to frowne, Sayth she, 'I may not stay till night, 'My coate,' sayth he, 'nor yet my foulde Sayth she, Yet lever were I dead, And all for love of men.' And I to thee will be as kinde As Colin was to Rosalinde, 95 100 105 110 With that she bent her snow-white knee, 115 Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee, And him she sweetely kist: With that the shepheard whoop'd for joy, 120 VIII. THE FAREWELL TO LOVE, From Beaumont and Fletcher's play, intitled The Lover's Progress. A. 3. Sc. 1. ADIEU, fond love, farewell, you wanton powers; I am free again. Thou dull disease of bloud and idle hours, Bewitching pain, Fly to fools, that sigh away their time: My nobler love to heaven doth climb, And there behold beauty still young, That time can ne'er corrupt, nor death destroy, Immortal sweetness by fair angels sung, And honoured by eternity and joy: There lies my love, thither my hopes aspire, 5 10 -affords a pretty poetical contest between Pleasure and Honour. It is found at the end of Hymen's Triumph: a pastoral tragicomedie,' written by Daniel, and printed among his works, 4to, 1623.1-Daniel, who was a contemporary of Drayton's, and is said to have been poet laureat to Queen Elizabeth, was born in 1562, and died in 1619. Anne Countess of Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery (to whom Daniel had been Tutor), has inserted a small Portrait of him in a full-length Picture of herself, preserved at Appleby Castle, in Cumberland. This little poem is the rather selected for a specimen of Daniel's poetic powers, as it is omitted in the later edition of his works, 2 vols. 12mo. 1718.2 SYREN. COME, worthy Greeke, Ulysses come, 1 In this edition (i.e., 1796) it is collated with a copy printed at the end of his 'Tragedie of Cleopatra. London, 1607, 12mo.'—2 Samuel Daniel is remarkable for his elegance and modern style.—ED. |