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.

Pages

¶Another of the same Shepheards.

AS it fell vpon a day, In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade, Which a groue of Mirtles made. Beasts did leape, and Birds did sing, Trees did grow, and plants did spring. Euery thing did banish moane, Saue the Nightingale alone. She poore Bird, as all forlorne, Lean'd her breast against a thorne, And there sung the dolefull'st Ditty, That to heare it was great pitty. Fie, fie, fie, now would she crie Teru, Teru, by and by. That to heare her so complaine, Scarse I could from teares refraine.

Page [unnumbered]

For her griefes so liuely showne, Made me thinke vpon mine owne. Ah (thought I) thou mourn'st in vaine, None takes pitty on thy paine. Sencelesse trees, they cannot heare thee, Ruthlesse beasts, they will not cheare thee. King Pandion he is dead, All thy friends are lapt in Lead. All thy fellow birds doe sing, Carelesse of thy sorrowing. Euen so poore bird like thee, None a-liue will pitty mee.
FINIS.

Ignoto.

Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.