Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony.

About this Item

Title
Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony.
Publication
London :: Printed [by Thomas Snodham] for Richard More, and are to be sould at his shop in S. Dunstanes Church-yard,
1614.
Rights/Permissions

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Subject terms
Pastoral poetry, English.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16274.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16274.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.

Pages

Cardenia the Nimph, to her false Shep∣heard Faustus.

FAustus, if thou wilt reade from me These few and simple lines, By them most clearely thou shalt see, How little should accounted be Thy faigned words and signes. For noting well thy deedes vnkinde, Shepheard, thou must not scan: That euer it came to my minde, To praise thy faith like to the winde, Or for a constant man.
For this in thee shall so be sound, As smoake blowne in the aire: Or like Quick-siluer turning round, Or as a house built on the ground Of sands that doe impaire. To firmenesse thou art contrarie,

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More slipp'rie then the Eele: Changing as Weather-cocke on hie, Or the Camelion on the die, Or Fortunes turning wheele.
Who would beleeue thou wert so free, To blaze me thus each houre? My Shepheardesse, thou liu'st in me, My soule doth onely dwell in thee, And euery vitall power. Pale Atropos my vitall string Shall cut, and life offend: The streames shall first turne to their spring. The world shall end, and euery thing, Before my loue shall end.
This loue that thou didst promise me, Shepheard, where is it found? The word and faith I had of thee, O tell me now, where may they be, Or where may they resound? Too soone thou did'st the title gaine Of giuer of vaine words: Too soone my loue thou did'st obtaine, Too soone thou lou'dst Diana in vaine, That nought but scornes affords.
But one thing now I will thee tell, That much thy patience moues: That though Diana doth excell In beautie, yet she keepes not well

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Her faith, not loyall proues, Thou then hast chosen, each one saith, Thine equall, and a shrow: For if thou hast vndone thy faith, Her Loue and Louer she betrayeth, So like to like may goe.
If now this Sonnet which I send Will anger thee: Before Remember Faustus (yet my friend,) That if these speeches doe offend, Thy deedes doe hurt me more. Thus let each one of vs amend, Thou deedes, I words so spent: For I confesse I blame my pen, Doe thou as much, so in the end, Thy deedes thou doe repent.
FINIS.

Bar. Yong.

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