The lamentations of Amyntas for the death of Phillis, paraphrastically translated out of Latine into English hexameters by Abraham Fraunce

The First Lamentation. (Book 1)

IN flowre of young yeares fayre Phillis lately departing, With teares continual was daily bewayld of Amyntas, halfe mad Amyntas, careful Amintas, mournful Amintas. Whose mourning al night, al day, did weary the mountains, Wearie the woods, and wyndes, and caues, and weary the fountains. But when he saw in vaine his cheekes with teares to be watred, cheeks al pale and wan, yet could not finde any comfort, comfortles then he turns at length his watery countnance Vnto the shril waters of Thames, and there he beginneth: Here, O nimph, these plaints, here, O good nimph, my bewailings, And conuey them downe to thy kinsmans watery kingdome, Down to the world washing main sea with speedy reflowing: World washing main-sea wil then conuey to the worlds end This grieuous mourning, by the shore, by the sands, by the desert, Desert, sands, and shore which witnes were to my mourning. And great God Neptune perchaunce, his mightily thundring Triton, wil commaund to recount what I feele, what I suffer, Raging heate of loue, passing outragious Aetna. So th'infamous fame of wretched louer Amyntas, Blown from th'east to the weast, by the sounding trump of a Triton, Through deepe seas passing, at length may pearce to Auernus, And fyelds Elysian where blessed souls be abyding. And there meete Phillis, sweete soule of Phillis among them, Sweete soule of Phillis, stil, stil, to be mournd of Amyntas, O what a life did I leade, what a blessed life did I leade then, Happy shepheard with a louing lasse, while destiny suffred? Vnder a beech many times wee sate most sweetely together, Vnder a broade beech tree that sunbeames might not anoy vs, Either in others armes, stil looking either on other: Both, many rimes singing, and verses both many making, And both so many woords with kisses so many mingling. Sometimes her white neck, as white as milk, was I tutching,

Sometimes her prety paps, and breast was I bold to be fingring, Whil'st Phillis smyling and bushing hangd by my bosome, And these cheekes of mine did stroke with her yuory fingers, these cheekes with yong heare like soft downe all to bee smeared, O ioyful spring time with pleasure wished abounding, O those blessed dayes while good lucke shyn'd fro the heauens, But since Phillis, alas, did leaue most cursed Amyntas, Pains haue plagued, alas, both flesh and bones of Amintas, No day riseth, alas, but it heares these grones of Amintas, No night commeth, alas, that brings any rest to Amintas, Night and day thus, alas, stil Phillis troubleth Amintas. Now if northern blasts should sound their feareful alarum, And boistrous tempests, come thundring down fro the heauens, So that I were compeld with sheepe and kidds fro the pastures Down to the broad brancht trees & thick set groues to be skudding, There to remain for a while, and al for feare of a scowring, Phillis then do I want, then my sweete Phillis is absent, Phillis then do I want: whose wont was then to be harckning Al that I could of loue, and goddes louely remember: Songs of lusty satyrs, and Fauni friends to the mountains, And cheerefull Charites: such songs, as none but I onely, Onely Amintas made, for none compar'd with Amintas. But now, Phillis I want, and who shal now bee my Phillis? Who shall marke what I sing, what I say, forsaken Amintas? If that I praise Phillis, these hills giue praise to my Phillis, And Phillis, Phillis, from rocks with an Eccho, reboundeth, Thus by the whistling windes my mournings, made but a iesting. If that I grone, these trees with bending, yeeld many gronings: And very ground for griefe shews her complexion altred: So this ground, these trees, these rocks, and Eccho resounding, All that I heare, that I see, giues fresh increase to my sorrow. Go poore sheepe and kidds, sometimes the delyte of Amintas, Seeke now somewhere else both gras and boughs to refresh you, Make your way by the fields, and neuer looke for Amintas, Lodge your selues at night, and neuer looke for Amintas. Some pitiful goodman wil take compassion on you, And feede you wandring, and bring you home by the euning. And I alone, yeelding due mourning vnto my Phillis,

Phillis mine and yours (for you also shee regarded) Ile now wander alone, stil alone, by the rocks, by the mountains, Dwelling in darke dens by the wilde beasts only frequented, Where no path for man, where no man's seene to bee passing: Or to the woods Ile goe, so darke with broadshadoe braunches, That no Sunne by the day, no starre by the night do anoy mee, And that I heare no voice, but Goblins horrible outcries, Owles baleful scrikings, and crowes vnlucky resoundings. There shall these myne eyes be resolud in watery fountains: There shall these fountains flow ouer along by the pastures: There wil I make such plaints, as beasts shal mourn by my playnings, Such plaints, as strong trees shal rent and riue fro the rooting, Make wylde Panthers tame, and mollify lastly the flintstone. And if I needs must sleepe▪ I'le take but a nap by my sleeping, On bare and cold ground, these lims al weary reposing: No greene turfe to my head, shal stand in steede of a pillow, No bowes or braunches geeue cou'ring vnto my carkas, That some foule serpent may speedily giue me my deaths wound: That this poore soule may from flesh and bloud be released, And passing stygian waters, may come to the faire fields, Elysian faire fields, and daily resort to my Phillis. Meane while, friendly shepheards & plowmen, mark what I tel you, Marke what I say (for I think you knew and loued Amintas.) Disdaine daintie Venus, giue no ground vnto the blind boy, Yong boy, but strong boy: take heede, take heed by Amintas. Th'one with a fire hath burnt, and th'other pearst with an arrow Flesh, and bones, and bloud: whats worse then a fire, then an arrow? O bitter fortune of too too wretched Amintas.