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OUT of the world thus was she reft awaie, | |
| Out of the world, vnworthie such a spoyle; | |
| And borne to heauen, for heauen a fitter pray: | |
| Much fitter then the Lyon, which with toyle | |
| Alcides slew, and fixt in firmament; | 5 |
| Her now I seek throughout this earthlie soyle, | |
| And seeking misse, and missing doe lament…. | |
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| She fell away in her first ages spring, | |
| Whil’st yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde, | |
| And whil’st her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring, | 10 |
| She fell away against all course of kinde: | |
| For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong; | |
| She fel away like fruit blowne downe with winde: | |
| Weepe Shepheard weepe to make my vndersong…. | |
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| Yet fell she not, as one enforst to dye, | 15 |
| Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent, | |
| But as one toyld with trauaile downe doth lye, | |
| So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went, | |
| And closde her eyes with carelesse quietnesse; | |
| The whiles soft death away her spirit hent, | 20 |
| And soule assoyld from sinfull fleshlinesse…. | |
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| Our daies are full of dolor and disease, | |
| Our life afflicted with incessant paine, | |
| That nought on earth may lessen or appease. | |
| Why then should I desire here to remaine? | 25 |
| Or why should he that loues me, sorie bee | |
| For my deliuerance, or at all complaine | |
| My good to heare, and toward ioyes to see?… | |
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| And when those pallid cheekes and ashy hew, | |
| In which sad death his pourtraicture had writ, | 30 |
| And when those hollow eyes and deadly view, | |
| On which the clowde of ghastly night did sit, | |
| I match with that sweet smile and chearful brow, | |
| Which all the world subdued vnto it; | |
| How happie was I then, and wretched now? | 35 |
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| How happie was I, when I saw her leade | |
| The Shepheards daughters dauncing in a rownd! | |
| How trimly would she trace and softly tread | |
| The tender grasse with rosie garland crownd! | |
| And when she list aduance her heauenly voyce, | 40 |
| Both Nimphs and Muses nigh she made astownd, | |
| And flocks and shepheards caused to reioyce…. | |
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| For I will walke this wandring pilgrimage | |
| Throughout the world from one to other end, | |
| And in affliction wast my better age. | 45 |
| My bread shall be the anguish of my mind, | |
| My drink the teares which fro mine eyes do raine, | |
| My bed the ground that hardest I may finde; | |
| So will I wilfully increase my paine. | |
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| And she my loue that was, my Saint that is, | 50 |
| When she beholds from her celestiall throne, | |
| (In which shee ioyeth in eternall blis) | |
| My bitter penance, will my case bemone, | |
| And pitie me that liuing thus doo die: | |
| For heauenly spirits haue compassion | 55 |
| On mortall men, and rue their miserie. | |
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| So when I haue with sorowe satisfide | |
| Th’ importune fates, which vengeance on me seeke, | |
| And th’ heauens with long languor pacifide, | |
| She for pure pitie of my sufferance meeke, | 60 |
| Will send for me; for which I daylie long, | |
| And will till then my painfull penance eeke: | |
| Weep Shepheard, weep to make my vnder song…. | |
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| And euer as I see the starres to fall, | |
| And vnder ground to goe, to giue them light | 65 |
| Which dwell in darknes, I to minde will call, | |
| How my faire Starre (that shinde on me so bright) | |
| Fell sodainly, and faded vnder ground; | |
| Since whose departure, day is turnd to night, | |
| And night without a Venus starre is found…. | 70 |
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