I hate the day, because it lendeth light
To fee all things, and not my loue to fee;
I hate the darkneffe and the dreary night,
Because they breed fad balefulnesse in mee:
I hate all times, because all times doo fly
So faft away, and may not stayed bee,
But as a speedie post that passeth by. /
I hate to speake, my voyce is spent with crying :
I hate to heare, lowd plaints haue duld mine eares:
I hate to taft, for food withholds my dying:
I hate to see, mine eyes are dimd with teares :
I hate to fmell, no fweet on earth is left :
I hate to feele, my flesh is numbd with feares :
So all my fenfes from me are bereft.
I hate all men, and fhun all womankinde;
The one, because as I they wretched are,
The other, for because I doo not finde
My loue with them, that wont to be their Starre;
And life I hate, because it will not last,
And death I hate, because it life doth marre,
And all I hate, that is to come or past.
So all the world, and all in it I hate,
Because it changeth euer too and fro,
And neuer standeth in one certaine state,
But ftill vnftedfast round about doth goe,
Like a Mill wheele, in midst of miserie,
Driuen with streames of wretchedneffe and woe,
That dying liues, and liuing ftill does dye.
So doo I liue, fo doo I daylie die,
And pine away in felfe-confuming paine,
Sith the that did my vitall powres supplie,
And feeble spirits in their force maintaine
Is fetcht fro me, why feeke I to prolong
My wearie daies in dolour and disdaine?
Weepe Shepheard weepe to make my vnderfong.
6 Why / doo I longer liue in lifes despight?
And doo not dye then in despight of death:
Why doo I longer fee this loathsome light,
And doo in darknesse not abridge my breath,
Sith all my forrow fhould haue end thereby,
And cares finde quiet; is it so vneath
To leaue this life, or dolorous to dye?
To liue I finde it deadly dolorous;
For life drawes care, and care continuall woe :
Therefore to dye must needes be ioyeous,
And wifhfull thing this fad life to forgoe.
But I must stay; I may it not amend,
My Daphne hence departing bad me so,
She bad me stay, till fhe for me did fend.
Yet whileft I in this wretched vale doo stay,
My wearie feete fhall euer wandring be,
That still I may be readie on my way,
When as her messenger doth come for me:
Ne will I reft my feete for feebleneffe,
Ne will I rest my limmes for frailtie,
Ne will I reft mine eyes for heauinesse.
But as the mother of the Gods, that fought
For faire Eurydice her daughter deere
Throghout the world, with wofull heauie thought ;
So will I trauell whileft I tarrie heere,
Ne will I lodge, ne will I euer lin,
Ne when as drouping Titan draweth neere
To loose his teeme, will I take vp my Inne. /
Ne fleepe (the harbenger of wearie wights)
Shall euer lodge vpon mine eye-lids more;
Ne fhall with reft refresh my fainting fprights,
Nor failing force to former ftrength restore,
But I will wake and forrow all the night
With Philumene, my fortune to deplore,
With Philumene, the partner of my plight.
And euer as I see the starre to fall,
And vnder ground to goe, to giue them light
Which dwell in darknesse, I to mind will call,
How my faire Starre (that shind on me so bright) 480
Fell fodainly, and faded vnder ground;
Since whofe departure, day is turnd to night,
And night without a Venus ftarre is found.
But foone as day doth fhew his deawie face,
And cals foorth men vnto their toylfome trade
I will withdraw me to fome darkesome place,
Or fome d[r]eere caue, or folitarie shade,
There will I figh, and forrow all day long,
And the huge burden of my cares vnlade:
Weepe Shepheard, weepe, to make my vndersong. 490
7 Henceforth mine eyes shall neuer more behold
Faire thing on earth, ne feed on false delight
Of ought that framed is of mortall mould,
Sith that my faireft 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 repofe 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 vfance
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 sufferaunce,
When ye doe heare me in that desert 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 chaunft to me,
May happen vnto the most happiest wight;
For all mens states alike vnstedfast 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 fwaines;
That fad Alcyon dyde in lifes difdaine. /
And ye faire Damfels Shepheards deare delights,
That with your loues do their rude hearts possesse,
When as my hearse fhall happen to your fightes,
Vouchsafe to deck the fame with Cypareffe ;
And euer fprinckle brackish teares among,
In pitie of my vndeferu'd diftresse,
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 these wofull layes
On my graue written, rue my Daphnes wrong,
And mourne for me that languish out my dayes :
Ceafe Shepheard, cease, and end thy vnderfong.
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.
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