My onely treasure, hides the ioyes of my poore hart! As here with thee on earth I liv'd, even fo equall 115 Me thinkes it were with thee in heav'n I did abide : And as our troubles all we here on earth did part, So reafon would that there of thy moft happie ftate I had my share. Alas, if thou my truftie guide Were wont to be, how canft thou leave me thus

alone

120

In darkneffe and aftray; weake, wearie, defolate,
Plung'd in a world of woe, refusing for to take
Me with thee to the place of reft where thou art

gone!"

This faid, fhe held her peace, for forrow tide her

toong;

And infteed of more words, feemd that her eies a

lake

125

Of teares had bene, they flow'd fo plenteously

therefro:

And, with her fobs and fighs, th' aire round about

her roong.

If Venus, when the waild her deare Adonis flaine, Ought moov'd in thy fiers hart compaffion of her woe, His noble fifters plaints, her fighes and teares emong, Would fure have made thee milde, and inly rue her

paine:

131

Aurora halfe fo faire her felfe did never fhow, When, from old Tithons bed, thee weeping did

arife.

The blinded archer-boy, like larke in fhowre of

raine,

Sat bathing of his wings, and glad the time did

fpend

135

Under thofe criftall drops, which fell from her ..faire eies;

And at their brightest beames him proynd in lovely wise.

Yet forie for her grief, which he could not amend, The gentle boy gan wipe her eies, and clear those lights,

Thofe lights through which his glory and his conquefts fhine.

140

The Graces tuckt her hair, which hung like threds

of gold,

Along her yvorie breft, the treasure of delights.
All things with her to weep, it seemed, did encline,
The trees, the hills, the dales, the caves, the stones
fo cold.

145

The aire did help them mourne, with dark clouds,
raine, and mift,
Forbearing many a day to cleare it felfe againe;
Which made them eftfoones feare the daies of

Pirrha fhold

Of creatures fpoile the earth, their fatall threds

untwist.

For Phoebus gladfome raies were wished for in vaine, And with her quivering light Latonas daughter

faire,

150

And Charles-waine eke refus'd to be the fhipmans

guide.

On Neptune warre was made by Aeolus and his

traine,

Who, letting loose the winds, toft and tormented

th' aire,

So that on ev'ry coaft men shipwrack did abide,

Or elfe were fwallowed up in open fea with waves, And fuch as came to fhoare were beaten with despaire. 156

The Medwaies filver ftreames, that wont fo still to

flide,

Were troubled now and wrothe; whofe hidden hollow caves,

Along his banks with fog then throwded from mans eye,

Ay Phillip did refownd, aie Phillip they did crie. His Nimphs were feen no more (thogh custom ftil it craves)

161

With haire spred to the wynd themselves to bath or

fport,

Or with the hooke or net, barefooted wantonly, The pleasant daintie fish to entangle or deceive. The fhepheards left their wonted places of refort, Their bagpipes now were still; their loving merý layes

166

Were quite forgot; and now their flocks men might perceive

To wander and to ftraie, all carelefly neglect.

And, in the ftead of mirth and pleasure, nights and

dayes

Nought els was to be heard, but woes, complaints, and mone..

170

But thou (Obleffed foule!) doeft haply not respect These teares we fhead, though full of loving pure affect,

Having affixt thine eyes on that moft glorious throne,

Where full of maicftie the High Creator reignes;

In whofe bright fhining face thy ioyes are all complete,

175

Whofe love kindles thy fpright; where, happie alwaies one,

Thou liv'ft in blis that earthly paffion never staines Where from the pureft fpring the facred Nectar fweete

Is thy continuall drinke; where thou doeft gather

now

180

Of well emploied life th' ineftimable gaines.
There Venus on thee fmiles, Apollo gives thee place,
And Mars in reverent wife doth to thy vertue bow,
And decks his fiery fphere, to do thee honour moft.
In highest part whereof, thy valour for to grace,
A chaire of gold he fetts to thee, and there doth
tell
Thy noble acts arew, whereby even they that boast
Themfelves of auncient fame, as Pirrhus, Hanniball,
Scipio, and Cæfar, with the reft that did excell
In martiall proweffe, high thy glorie do admire.

185

All haile, therefore, O worthie Phillip immortall, The flowre of Sydneyes race, the honour of thy

name!

191

Whose worthie praise to fing, my Mufes not afpire, But forrowfull and fad thefe teares to thee let fall, Yet with their verfes might fo farre and wide thy fame

Extend, that envies rage, nor time, might end the

fame.

195

A

PASTORALL AEGLOGUE

UPON THE

DEATH OF SIR PHILLIP SIDNEY, KNIGHT, &c.*

LYCON. COLIN.

COLIN, well fits thy fad cheare this fad ftownd,
This wofull ftownd, wherein all things complaine
This great mishap, this greevous loffe of owres.
Hear ft thou the Orown? how with hollow fownd
He flides away, and murmuring doth plaine,
And feemes to fay unto the fading flowres,
Along his bankes, unto the bared trees;
Phillifides is dead. Up, iolly fwaine,

5

Thou that with skill canft tune a dolefull lay, Help him to mourn. My hart with grief doth freese,

Hoarfe is my voice with crying, elfe a part

Sure would I beare, though rude: But, as I may,
With fobs and fighes I fecond will thy fong,
And fo expreffe the forrowes of my hart.

10

COLIN. Ah Lycon, Lycon, what need skill, to

teach

15

A grieved mynd powre forth his plaints! how long Hath the pore turtle gon to fchool (weenest thou)

The fignature to this poem is L. B., that is, Lodowick Bryfkett. Mr. Warton's conjecture, that Lord Brooke might be the perfon defigned by thofe initials, cannot, I believe, be fupported. Mr. Warton however concedes that L. B. may fignify the author's name, as in the poem we have neither the perfpicuity nor the harmony of Spenfer. TODD.