Idea the shepheards garland Fashioned in nine eglogs. Rowlands sacrifice to the nine Muses.

About this Item

Title
Idea the shepheards garland Fashioned in nine eglogs. Rowlands sacrifice to the nine Muses.
Author
Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
Publication
Imprinted at London :: [By T. Orwin] for Thomas Woodcocke, dwelling in Pauls Churchyarde, at the signe of the black Beare,
1593.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A20823.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Idea the shepheards garland Fashioned in nine eglogs. Rowlands sacrifice to the nine Muses." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A20823.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.

Pages

VVinken
Gorbo, my Comfort is accloyd with care, A new mishap my wonted ioyes hath crost: Then meruaile not although my musicke iarre, When she the Author of her mirth hath lost,
Elphin is dead, and in his graue is laid, Our liues delight whilst louely Elphin liued, What cruell fate hath so the time berraid, The widow world of all her ioyes depriued.
O cursed death, Liues fearsull enemie, Times poysned sickle: Tyrants reuenging pride: Thou blood-sucker, Thou childe of infamie: Deuouring Tiger: slaughtering homicide: Ill hast thou done, and ill may thee betide.
Naught hast thou got, the earth hath wonne the most, Nature is payd the interest of her due, Pan hath receau'd, what him so dearly cost, O heauens his vertues doe belong to you.

Page 23

A heauenly clowded in a humaine shape, Rare substance, in so rough a barcke Iclad, Of Pastorall, the liuely springing sappe, Though mortall thou, thy fame immortall made.
Spel-charming Prophet, sooth-diuining seer, ô heauenly musicke of the highest spheare, Sweet sounding trump, soule-rauishing desire, Thou stealer of mans heart, inchanter of the eare.
God of Inuention, Ioues deere Mercury, Ioy of our Lawrell, pride of all our ioy: The essence of all Poets diuinitie, Spirit of Orpheus: Pallas louely boy.
But all my words shalbe dissolu'd to teares, And my tears fountaines shall to riuers grow: These Riuers to the floods of my dispaires, And these shall make an Ocean of my woe.
His rare desarts, shall kindle my desire, With burning zeale, the brands of mine vnrest, My sighes in adding sulphure to this fire, Shall frame another AEtna in my breast.

Page 24

Planets reserue your playnts till dismall day, The ruthles rockes but newly haue begonne, And when in drops they be dissolu'd away, Let heauens begin to weepe when earth hath done.
Then tune thy pipe and I will sing alaye, Vpon his death by Rowland of the rocke, Sitting with me this other stormy day, In you sayre field attending on our flock.
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