7 Henceforth mine eyes fhall neuer more behold
Faire thing on earth, ne feed on falfe delight
Of ought that framed is of mortall mould,
Sith that my fairest flower is faded quight:
For all I fee is vaine and transitorie,
Ne will be held in any stedfast plight,
But in a moment loose their grace and glorie.
And / ye fond men, on fortunes wheele that ride,
Or in ought vnder heauen repose affurance,
Be it riches, beautie, or honours pride:
Be sure that they shall haue no long endurance,
But ere ye be aware will flit away;
For nought of them is yours, but th' only vsance
Of a small time, which none ascertaine may.
And ye true Louers, whom defaftrous chaunce
Hath farre exiled from your Ladies grace,
To mourne in forrow and fad fufferaunce,
When ye doe heare me in that defert place,
Lamenting loud my Daphnes Elegie,
Helpe me to waile my miserable case,
And when life parts, vouchsafe to close mine eye.
And ye more happie Louers, which enioy
The presence of your dearest loues delight,
When ye doe heare my forrowfull annoy,
Yet pittie me in your empassiond spright,
And thinke that fuch mishap, as chaunst to me,
May happen vnto the most happiest wight;
For all mens ftates alike vnftedfast be.
And ye my fellow Shepheards, which do feed
Your careleffe flockes on hils and open plaines,
With better fortune, than did me fucceed,
Remember yet my vndeferued paines,
And when ye heare, that I am dead or flaine,
Lament my lot, and tell your fellow swaines;
That fad Alcyon dyde in lifes difdaine. /
And ye faire Damfels Shepheards deare delights,
That with your loues do their rude hearts poffeffe,
When as my hearfe fhall happen to your fightes,
Vouchsafe to deck the fame with Cypareffe;
And euer fprinckle brackish teares among,
In pitie of my vndeferu'd diftreffe,
The which I wretch, endured haue thus long.
And ye poore Pilgrimes, that with reftleffe toyle
Wearie your felues in wandring defert wayes,
Till that you come, where ye your vowes affoyle,
When paffing by ye reade thefe wofull layes
On my graue written, rue my Daphnes wrong,
And mourne for me that languifh out my dayes:
Ceafe Shepheard, ceafe, and end thy vndersong.
"hus when he ended had his heauie plaint,
The heauieft plaint that euer I heard foun 1
His cheekes wext pale, and fprights began to faint
As if againe he would haue fallen to ground;
Which when I faw, I (ftepping to him light)
Amooued him out of his ftonie fwound,
And gan him to recomfort as I might.
But he no waie recomforted would be,
Nor fuffer folace to approach him nie,
But cafting vp a 'fdeinfull eie at me,
That in his traunce I would not let him lie,
Did rend his haire, and beat his blubbred face,
As one difpofed wilfullie to die,
That I fore grieu'd to see his wretched case.
Tho/when the pang was somewhat ouerpast,
And the outragious pafsion nigh appeased,
I him defyrde, fith daie was ouercast,
And darke night fast approched, to be pleased
To turne afide vnto my Cabinet,
And ftaie with me, till he were better eased
Of that strong ftownd, which him fo fore beset.
But by no meanes I could him win thereto,
Ne longer him intreate with me to staie,
But without taking leaue, he foorth did
With flaggring pace and difmall lookes difmay,
As if that death he in the face had feene,
Or hellish hags had met vpon the way:
But what of him became I cannot weene.
COLIN CLOVTS COME
HOME AGAINE.
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