Englands Helicon Casta placent superis, pura cum veste venite, et manibus puris sumite fontis aquam.

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Title: Englands Helicon Casta placent superis, pura cum veste venite, et manibus puris sumite fontis aquam.
Publication: At London :: Printed by I. R[oberts] for Iohn Flasket, and are to be sold in Paules Church-yard, at the signe of the Beare,; 1600.
Rights/Permissions: To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
Subject terms: English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700 -- Early works to 1800.; Pastoral poetry, English -- Early works to 1800.
Link to this Item: http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16273.0001.001
Cite this Item: "Englands Helicon Casta placent superis, pura cum veste venite, et manibus puris sumite fontis aquam." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16273.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 29, 2025.

WHen that I poore soule was borne,
I was borne vnfortunate:
Presently the Fates had sworne,
To fore-tell my haplesse state.

Titan his faire beames did hide,
Phoebe 'clips'd her siluer light:
In my birth my Mother died,
Young and faire in heauie plight

And the Nurse that gaue me suck,
Haplesse was in all her life:
And I neuer had good luck,
Being mayde or married wife.

I lou'd well, and was belou'd,
And forgetting, was forgot:
This a haplesse marriage mou'd,
Greeuing that it kills me not.

With the earth would I were wed,
Then in such a graue of woes
Daylie to be buried,
Which no end nor number knowes.

Young my Father married me,
Forc'd by my obedience:
Syrenus, thy faith, and thee
I forgot without offence.

Which contempt I pay so farre,
Neuer like was paid so much:
Iealousies doo make me warre,
But without a cause of such.

I doo goe with iealous eyes,
To my folds, and to my Sheepe:
And with iealousie I rise,
When the day begins to peepe.

At his table I doo eate,
In his bed with him I lie:
But I take no rest, nor meate,
Without cruell iealousie.

If I aske him what he ayles,
And whereof he iealous is?
In his aunswere then he failes,
Nothing can he say to this.

In his face there is no cheere,
But he euer hangs the head:
In each corner he dooth peere,
And his speech is sad and dead.

Ill the poore soule liues ywis: That so hardly married is.

Bar. Yong.

FINIS.