CALME was the day, and through the trembling ayre Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre, When I (whom sullein care, Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay Like empty shaddowes, did afflict my brayne,) Walkt forth to ease my payne Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes; Whose rutty Bancke, the which his Riuer hemmes, Was paynted all with variable flowers, And all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes Fit to decke maydens bowres And crowne their Paramours Against the Brydale day, which is not long. Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. There, in a Meadow, by the Riuers side, A Flocke of Nymphes I chaunced to espy, And each one had a little wicker basket, In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket, B And with fine Fingers cropt full feateously Of euery sort, which in that Meadow grew To decke their Bridegromes posies Against the Brydale day, which was not long. Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. With that I saw two Swannes of goodly hewe The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew, 40 So purely white they were, Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he, Nor Joue himselfe, when he a Swan would be, 45 That euen the gentle streame, the which them bare, 50 That shone as heavens light, Against their Brydale day, which was not long. Sweet Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. Eftsoones the Nymphes, which now had Flowers their fill, As they came floating on the Christal Flood; Their wondring eyes to fill; Them seem'd they never saw a sight so fayre, 60 Of Fowles so louely, that they sure did deeme To be begot of any earthly Seede, 65 But rather Angels, or of Angels breede; Yet were they bred of Somers-heat, they say, 35 3390 In sweetest Season, when each Flower and weede So fresh they seem'd as day, 70 Euen as their Brydale day, which was not long. Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song. Then forth they all out of their baskets drew 75 That like old Peneus Waters they did seeme, Scattred with Flowers, through Thessaly they streeme, 80 That they appeare, through Lillies plenteous store, Two of those Nymphes, meane while, two Garlands bound Of freshest Flowres which in that Mead they found, 85 Their snowie Foreheads therewithall they crownd, Prepar'd against that Day, Against their Brydale day, which was not long: (Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song.) 90 And heauens glorie, whom this happie hower "Doth leade unto your lovers blissfull bower, Joy may you haue, and gentle hearts content 66 Of your loues couplement ; "And let faire Venus, that is Queene of loue, "Let endlesse Peace your steadfast hearts accord, "And let your bed with pleasures chast abound, That fruitfull issue may to you afford, "Which may your foes confound, “And make your joyes redound "Vpon your Brydale day, which is not long." Sweet Themmes! runne softlie, till I end my Song. So ended she: and all the rest around To her redoubled that her vndersong, So forth those joyous Birdes did passe along, And all the foule which in his flood did dwell And their best seruice lend Against their wedding day, which was not long. 125 Sweete Themmes! run softly, till I end my Song. At length they all to mery London came, To mery London, my most kyndly Nurse, There when they came, whereas those bricky towres 130 135 Of that great Lord, which therein wont to dwell, Whose want too well now feeles my freendles case; 140 Olde woes, but joyes, to tell Against the bridale daye, which is not long. Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song. Yet therein now doth lodge a noble Peer, 145 Great Englands glory, and the Worlds wide wonder, Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine did thunder, Did make to quake and feare. |