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: This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.
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.

SHall I say that I loue you,
Daphne disdainfull?
Sore it costs as I proue you,
louing is painefull.

Shall I say what doth grieue me?
Louers lament it:
Daphne will not relieue me,
late I repent it.

Shall I die, shall I perish,
through her vnkindnesse?
Loue vntaught loue to cherish,
sheweth his blindnesse.

Shall the hills, shall the valleyes,
the fields, the Citie,
With the sound of my out-cries,
moue her to pittie?

The deepe falls of faire Riuers,
and the windes turning:
Are the true Musicke giuers
vnto my mourning.

Where my Flockes daily feeding,
pining for sorrow:
At their Maisters heart bleeding,
shot with Loues arrow.

From her eyes to my heart-string,
was the shaft launced:
It made all the Woods to ring
by which it glaunced.

When this Nimph had vs'd me so,
then she did hide her:

Haplesse I did Daphne know, haplesse I spied her.

Thus Turtle-like I wail'd me,
for my Loues loosing:
Daphnes trust thus did faile me,
woe worth such choosing.

FINIS.

M. N. Howell.