| |
| IN a grove most rich of shade, | |
| Where birds wanton music made; | |
| May then young, his pied weeds showing, | |
| New perfumed with flowers fresh growing; | |
| |
| ASTROPHEL with STELLA sweet, | 5 |
| Did for mutual comfort meet; | |
| Both within themselves oppressed, | |
| But each in the other blessed. | |
| |
| Him great harms had taught much care; | |
| Her fair neck a foul yoke bare: | 10 |
| But her sight his cares did banish, | |
| In his sight her yoke did vanish. | |
| |
| Wept they had, alas the while, | |
| But now tears themselves did smile; | |
| While their eyes by love directed, | 15 |
| Interchangeably reflected. | |
| |
| Sigh they did, but now betwixt | |
| Sighs of woe were glad sighs mixt; | |
| With arms crossed, yet testifying | |
| Restless rest, and living dying. | 20 |
| |
| Their ears hungry of each word, | |
| Which the dear tongue would afford: | |
| But their tongues restrained from walking, | |
| Till their hearts had ended talking. | |
| |
| But when their tongues could not speak, | 25 |
| Love itself did silence break: | |
| Love did set his lips asunder, | |
| Thus to speak in love and wonder. | |
| |
| “STELLA! Sovereign of my joy! | |
| Fair triumpher of annoy! | 30 |
| STELLA! Star of heavenly fire! | |
| STELLA! Loadstar of desire!” | |
| |
| “STELLA! in whose shining eyes, | |
| Are the lights of CUPID’s skies; | |
| Whose beams where they once are darted, | 35 |
| Love therewith is straight imparted.” | |
| |
| “STELLA! whose voice when it speaks, | |
| Senses all asunder breaks. | |
| STELLA! whose voice when it singeth, | |
| Angels’ to acquaintance bringeth.” | 40 |
| |
| “STELLA! in whose body is | |
| Writ each character of bliss. | |
| Whose face all, all beauty passeth; | |
| Save thy mind which yet surpasseth.” | |
| |
| “Grant! O grant! but speech, alas, | 45 |
| Fails me, fearing on to pass: | |
| Grant! O me! what am I saying? | |
| But no fault there is in praying.” | |
| |
| “Grant! O Dear! on knees I pray” | |
| Knees on ground he then did stay | 50 |
| “That not I; but since I love you, | |
| Time and place for me may move you!” | |
| |
| “Never season was more fit: | |
| Never room more apt for it. | |
| Smiling air allows my reason; | 55 |
| These birds sing: now use the season!” | |
| |
| “This small wind which so sweet is, | |
| See how it the leaves doth kiss! | |
| Each tree in his best attiring, | |
| Sense of love to love inspiring.” | 60 |
| |
| “Love makes earth, the water drink; | |
| Love to earth makes water sink: | |
| And if dumb things be so witty, | |
| Shall a heavenly grace want pity?” | |
| |
| There his hands in their speech, fain | 65 |
| Would have made tongue’s language plain: | |
| But her hands, his hands repelling, | |
| Gave repulse, all grace excelling. | |
| |
| Then she spake, her speech was such, | |
| As not ears, but heart did touch; | 70 |
| While such wise she love denied, | |
| As yet love she signified. | |
| |
[The remaining stanzas of this song were first printed in the edition of 1598.]
“ASTROPHEL!” said she, “my love! | |
| Cease in these effects to prove. | |
| Now be still! yet still believe me, | 75 |
| Thy grief more than death would grieve me.” | |
| |
| “If that any thought in me, | |
| Can taste comfort but of thee; | |
| Let me fed with hellish anguish, | |
| Joyless, hopeless, endless languish.” | 80 |
| |
| “If those eyes you praisèd, be | |
| Half so dear as you to me; | |
| Let me home return, stark blinded | |
| Of those eyes; and blinder minded!” | |
| |
| “If to secret of my heart, | 85 |
| I do any wish impart; | |
| Where thou art not foremost placed: | |
| Be both wish and I defaced!” | |
| |
| “If more may be said, I say | |
| All my bliss on thee I lay. | 90 |
| If thou love, my love content thee! | |
| For all love, all faith is meant thee.” | |
| |
| “Trust me, while I thee deny, | |
| In myself the smart I try. | |
| Tyrant HONOUR doth thus use thee. | 95 |
| STELLA’s self might not refuse thee!” | |
| |
| “Therefore, Dear! this no more move: | |
| Lest, though I leave not thy love, | |
| Which too deep in me is framed; | |
| I should blush when thou art named!” | 100 |
| |
| Therewithal away she went, | |
| Leaving him to passion rent, | |
| With what she had done and spoken; | |
| That therewith my song is broken. | |
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