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Home  »  The English Poets  »  The Palmer’s Ode in Never Too Late

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. I. Early Poetry: Chaucer to Donne

Robert Greene (1558–1592)

The Palmer’s Ode in Never Too Late

OLD Menalcas, on a day,

As in field this shepherd lay,

Tuning of his oaten pipe,

Which he hit with many a stripe,

Said to Coridon that he

Once was young and full of glee.

‘Blithe and wanton was I then:

Such desires follow men.

As I lay and kept my sheep,

Came the God that hateth sleep,

Clad in armour all of fire,

Hand in hand with queen Desire,

And with a dart that wounded nigh,

Pierced my heart as I did lie;

That when I woke I ’gan swear

Phillis beauty’s palm did bear.

Up I start, forth went I,

With her face to feed mine eye;

There I saw Desire sit,

That my heart with love had hit,

Laying forth bright beauty’s hooks

To entrap my gazing looks.

Love I did, and ’gan to woo,

Pray and sigh; all would not do:

Women, when they take the toy,

Covet to be counted coy.

Coy she was, and I ’gan court;

She thought love was but a sport;

Profound hell was in my thought;

Such a pain desire had wrought,

That I sued with sighs and tears;

Still ingrate she stopped her ears,

Till my youth I had spent.

Last a passion of repent

Told me flat, that Desire

Was a brond of love’s fire,

Which consumeth men in thrall,

Virtue, youth, wit, and all.

At this saw, back I start,

Beat Desire from my heart,

Shook off Love, and made an oath

To be enemy to both.

Old I was when thus I fled

Such fond toys as cloyed my head,

But this I learned at Virtue’s gate,

The way to good is never late.’