Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

Home > Other > Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works > Page 83
Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works Page 83

by Michael Drayton


  The large-bay’d Barne doth fill, yea though the fruitfulst ground.

  For, in respect of Plaines, what pleasure can be found

  In darke and sleepie shades? where mists and rotten fogs

  Hang in the gloomie thicks, and make vnstedfast bogs,

  By dropping from the boughs, the o’re-growen trees among,

  With Caterpillers kells, and duskie cobwebs hong.

  The deadlie Screech-owle sits, in gloomie couert hid:

  Whereas the smooth-brow’d Plaine, as liberallie doth bid

  The Larke to leaue her Bowre, and on her trembling wing

  In climing vp tow’rds heauen, her high-pitcht Hymnes to sing

  Vnto the springing Day; when gainst the Sunnes arise

  The earlie Dawning strewes the goodly Easterne skies

  With Roses euery where: who scarcelie lifts his head

  To view this vpper world, but hee his beames doth spred

  Vpon the goodlie Plaines; yet at his Noonesteds hight,

  Doth scarcelie pierce the Brake with his farre-shooting sight.

  The gentle Shepheards heer survay their gentler sheepe:

  Amongst the bushie woods luxurious Satyrs keepe.

  To these braue sports of field, who with desire is wonne,

  To see his Grey-hound course, his Horse (in diet) runne,

  His deepe mouth’d Hound to hunt, his long-wingd Haulk to flie,

  To these most noble sports his mind who doth apply,

  Resorts vnto the Plaines. And not a foughten Field,

  Where Kingdoms rights haue laine vpon the speare and shield,

  But Plaines haue beene the place; and all those Trophies hie

  That ancient times haue rear’d to noble memorie:

  As, Stonendge, that to tell the British Princes slaine

  By those false Saxons fraud, here euer shall remaine.

  It was vpon the Plaine of Mamre (to the fame

  Of mee and all our kind) whereas the Angels came

  To Abraham in his Tent, and there with him did feed;

  To Sara his deere wife then promising the seed

  By whom all Nations should so highly honor’d bee,

  In which the Sonne of God they in the flesh should see.

  But Forests, to your plague there soone will come an Age,

  In which all damned sinnes most vehemently shall rage.

  An Age! what haue I said! nay, Ages there shall rise,

  So senselesse of the good of their posterities,

  That of your greatest Groues they scarce shall leaue a tree

  (By which the harmelesse Deere may after sheltred bee)

  Their luxurie and pride but onely to maintaine,

  And for your long excesse shall turne ye all to paine.

  Thus ending; though some hils themselues that doe applie

  To please the goodly Plaine, still standing in her eie,

  Did much applaud her speech (as Haradon, whose head

  Old Ambry still doth awe, and Bagden from his sted,

  Suruaying of the Vies, whose likings do allure

  Both Ouldbry and Saint Anne; and they againe procure

  Mount Marting-sall: and he those hils that stand aloofe,

  Those brothers Barbury, and Badbury, whose proofe

  Addes much vnto her praise) yet in most high disdaine,

  The Forrests take her words, and sweare the prating Plaine

  Growne old began to doate: and Sauernake so much

  Is galled with her taunts (whom they so nearely touch)

  That she in spitefull tearmes defies her to her face;

  And Aldburne with the rest, though being but a Chase,

  At worse then nought her sets: but Bradon all afloate

  When it was tolde to her, set open such a throate,

  That all the countrey rang. She cals her barren Iade,

  Base Queane, and Witch, and wisht she could be made

  But worthy of her hate (which most of all her grieues)

  The basest beggers Baude, a harborer of theeues.

  Then Peusham, and with her old Blackmore (not behinde)

  Do wish that from the Seas some soultrie Southerne winde,

  The foule infectious damps, and poisned aires would sweepe,

  And poure them on the Plaine, to rot her and her Sheepe.

  But whilst the sportiue Muse delights her with these things,

  She strangely taken is with those delicious Springs

  Of Kenet rising here, and of the nobler Streame

  Of Isis setting forth vpon her way to Tame,

  By Greeklade; whose great name yet vaunts that learned tong,

  Where to great Britaine first the sacred Muses song;

  Which first were seated here, at Isis bountious head,

  As telling that her fame should through the world be spread;

  And tempted by this flood, to Oxford after came,

  There likewise to delight her bridegroome, louely Tame:

  Whose beautie when they saw, so much they did adore,

  That Greeklade they forsooke, and would goe backe no more.

  Then Bradon gently brings forth Avon from her source:

  Which Southward making soone in her most quiet course,

  Receiues the gentle Calne: when on her rising side,

  First Blackmoore crownes her banke, as Peusham with her pride

  Sets out her murmuring sholes, till (turning to the West)

  Her, Somerset receiues, with all the bounties blest

  That Nature can produce in that Bathonian Spring,

  Which from the Sulphury Mines her med’cinall force doth bring;

  As Physick hath found out by colour, taste, and smell,

  Which taught the world at first the vertue of that Well;

  What quickliest it could cure: which men of knowledge drew

  From that first minerall cause: but some that little knew

  (Yet felt the great effects continually it wrought)

  Ascrib’d it to that skill, which Bladud hither brought,

  As by that learned King the Bathes should be begunne;

  Not from the quickned Mine, by the begetting Sunne

  Giuing that naturall power, which by the vig’rous sweate,

  Doth lend the liuely Springs their perdurable heate

  In passing through the veines, where matter doth not need;

  Which in that minerous earth insep’rably doth breed:

  So nature hath puruai’d, that during all her raigne

  The Bathes their natiue power for euer shall retaine:

  Where Time that Citie built, which to her greater fame,

  Preseruing of that Spring, participates her name;

  The Tutilage whereof (as those past worlds did please)

  Some to Minerua gaue, and some to Hercules:

  Proud Phoebus loued Spring, in whose Diurnall course,

  When on this point of earth he bends his greatest force,

  By his so strong approach, prouokes her to desire;

  Stung with the kindly rage of loues impatient :

  Which boiling in her wombe, proiects (as to a birth)

  Such matter as she takes from the grosse humorous earth;

  Till purg’d of dregs and slime, and her complexion cleere,

  She smileth on the light, and lookes with mirthfull cheere.

  Then came the lustie Freome, the first of floods that met

  Faire Avon entring in to fruitfull Somerset,

  With her attending Brooks; and her to Bathe doth bring,

  Much honoured by that place, Minerua’s sacred Spring.

  To noble Avon, next, cleere Chute as kindly came,

  To Bristow her to beare, the fairest seat of Fame:

  To entertaine this flood, as great a mind that hath,

  And striuing in that kind farre to excell the Bath.

  As when some wealthy Lord, prepares to entertaine

  A man of high account, and feast his gallant traine;

  Of h
im that did the like, doth seriously enquire

  His diet, his deuice, his seruice, his attire;

  That varying euerything (exampled by his store)

  He euerie way may passe what th’other did before:

  Euen so this Citie doth; the prospect of which place

  To her faire building addes an admirable grace;

  Well fashioned as the best, and with a double wall,

  As braue as any Towne; but yet excelling all

  For easement, that to health is requisit and meete;

  Her piled shores, to keepe her delicate and sweete:

  Hereto, she hath her Tides; that when she is opprest

  With heat or drought, still poure their floods vpon her breast.

  To Mendip then the Muse vpon the South inclines,

  Which is the onely store, and Coffer of her Mines:

  Elsewhere the Fields and Meades their sundry traffiques suit:

  The Forrests yeeld her wood, the Orchards giue her fruit.

  As in some rich mans house his seuerall charges lie,

  There stands his Wardrobe, here remaines his T reasurie;

  His large prouision there, of Fish, of Fowl, and Neat;

  His Cellars for his Wines, his Larders for his meate;

  There Banquet houses, Walkes for pleasure; here againe

  Cribs, Graners, Stables, Barnes, the other to maintaine:

  So this rich countrey hath, it selfe what may suffice;

  Or that which through exchange a smaller want supplies:

  Yet Cchyes dreadfull Hole still held her selfe disgrac’t,

  With th’wonders of this Ile that she should not be plac’t:

  But that which vext her most, was, that the Peakish Caue

  Before her darkesome selfe such dignitie should haue;

  And th’Wyches for their Salts such state on them should take;

  Or Cheshire should preferre her sad Death-boding-lake;

  And Stonendge in the world should get so high respect,

  Which imitating Artebutidly did erect:

  And that amongst the rest, the vaine inconstant Dee,

  By changing of his Foards, for one should reckond bee;

  As of another sort, wood turn’d to stone; among,

  Th’anatomized Fish, and Fowles from planchers sprong:

  And on the Cambrian side those strange and wondrous Springs,

  Our beasts that seldome drinke; a thousand other things

  Which Ochy inly vext, that they to fame should mount,

  And greatly griev’d her friends for her so small account;

  That there was scarcely Rock, or Riuer, Marsh, or Meare

  That held not Ochyes wrongs (for all held Ochy deare)

  In great and high disdaine: and Froome for her disgrace

  Since scarcely euer washt the Colesleck from her face;

  But (melancholy growne) to Avon gets a path,

  Through sickeness forc’t to seeke for cure vnto the Bath:

  And Chedder for meere griefe his teene he could not wreake,

  Gusht forth so forcefull streames, that he was like to breake

  The greater bankes of Ax, as from his mothers Caue,

  He wandred towards the Sea; for madnesse who doth raue

  At his drad mothers wrong: but who so wo begon

  For Ochy, as the Ile of ancient Aualon?

  Who hauing in her selfe, as inward cause of griefe,

  Neglecteth yet her owne, to giue her friend reliefe.

  The other so againe for her doth sorrow make,

  And in the Iles behalfe the dreadfull Cauerne spake;

  O three times famous Ile, where is that place that might

  Be with thy selfe compar’d for glorie and delight,

  Whilst Glastenbury stood? exalted to that pride,

  Whose Monasterie seem’d all other to deride?

  O who thy ruine sees, whom wonder doth not fill

  With our great fathers pompe, deuotion, and their skill?

  Thou more then mortall power (this iudgement rightly wai’d)

  Then present to assist, at that foundation lai’d;

  On whom for this sad waste, should Iustice lay the crime?

  Is there a power in Fate, or doth it yeeld to Time?

  Or was their error such, that thou could’st not protect

  Those buildings which thy hand did with their zeale erect?

  To whom didst thou commit that monument, to keepe,

  That suffreth with the dead their memory to sleepe?

  When not great Arthurs Tombe, nor holy Iosephs Graue,

  From sacriledge had power their sacred bones to saue;

  He who that God in man to his sepulchre brought,

  Or he which for the faith twelue famous battels fought.

  What? Did so many Kings do honor to that place,

  For Auarice at last so vilely to deface?

  For reu’rence, to that seat which hath ascribed beene,

  Trees yet in winter bloome, and beare their Summers greene.

  This said, she many a sigh from her full stomacke cast,

  Which issued through her breast in many a boystrous blast;

  And with such floods of teares her sorrowes doth condole,

  As into riuers turne within that darkesome hole:

  Like sorrow for her selfe, this goodly Ile doth trie;

  Imbrac’t by Selwoods sonne, her flood the louely Bry,

  On whom the Fates bestow’d (when he conceiued was)

  He should be much belou’d of many a daintie Lasse;

  Who giues all leaue to like, yet of them liketh .

  But his affection sets on beautious Aualon;

  Though many a plump-thigh’d moore, & ful-flanck’t marsh do proue

  To force his chaste desires, so dainty of his loue.

  First Sedgemore shewes this floud, her bosome all vnbrac’t,

  And casts her wanton armes about his slender wast:

  Her louer to obtaine, so amorous Audry seekes:

  And Gedney softly steales sweet kisses from his cheekes.

  One takes him by the hand, intreating him to stay:

  Another pluckes him backe, when he would faine away:

  But, hauing caught at, length, whom long he did pursue,

  Is so intranc’t with loue, her goodly parts to view,

  That altring quite his shape, to her he doth appeare,

  And casts his crystall selfe into an ample Mearc:

  But for his greater growth when needs he must depart,

  And forc’t to leaue his Loue (though with a heauie hart)

  As hee his back doth turne, and is departing out,

  The batning marshie Brent enuirons him about:

  But lothing her imbrace, away in hastc he flings,

  And in the Seuerne Sea surrounds his plentious Springs.

  But, dallying in this place so long why doost thou dwell,

  So many sundry things here hauing yet to tell?

  Occasion calls the Muse her pynions to prepare.

  Which (striking with the wind the vast and open aire)

  Now, in the finnie Heaths, then in the Champains roues;

  Now, measures out this Plaine; and then survayes those groues;

  The batfull pastures fenc’t, and most with quickset mound,

  The sundry sorts of soyle, diuersitie of ground;

  Where Plow-men cleanse the Earth of rubbish, weed, and filth,

  And giue the fallow lands their seasons and their tylth:

  Where, best for breeding horse; where cattell fitst to keepe;

  Which good for bearing Corne; which pasturing for sheepe:

  The leane and hungry earth, the fat and marly mold,

  Where sands be alwaies hot, and where the clayes be cold;

  With plentie where they waste, some others toucht with want:

  Heere set, and there they sowe; here proine, and there they plant.

  As Wiltshire is a place best pleas’d with that resort

  Whic
h spend away the time continuallie in sport;

  So Somerset, herselfe to profit doth apply,

  As giuen all to gaine, and thriuing huswifrie.

  For, whereas in a Land one doth consume and wast,

  Tis fit another be to gather in as fast:

  This liketh moorie plots, delights in sedgie Bowres,

  The grassy garlands loues, and oftattyr’d with flowres

  Of ranke and mellow gleabe; a sward as soft as wooll,

  With her complexion strong, a belly plumpe and full.

  Thus whilst the actiue Muse straines out these various things,

  Cleere Parret makes approach, with all those plentious Springs

  Her fruitful banks that blesse; by whose Monarchall sway,

  Shee fortifies her selfe against that mightie day

  Wherein her vtmost power she should be forc’t to try.

  For, from the Druides time there was a prophecie,

  That there should come a day (which now was neere at hand

  By all forerunning signes) that on the Easterne Strand,

  If Parret stood not fast vpon the English side,

  They all should be supprest: and by the British pride

  In cunning ouer-come; for why, impartiall Fate

  (Yet constant alwaies to the Britains crazed state)

  Forbad they yet should fall; by whom she meant to showe

  How much the present Age, and after-times should owe

  Vnto the line of Brute. Cleere Parret therefore prest

  Her tributarie Streames, and whollie her addrest

  Against the ancient Foe: First, calling to her ayde

  Two Riuers of one name; which seeme as though they stayd

  Their Empresse as she went, her either hand that take.

  The first vpon the right, as from her source, doth make

  Large Muchelney an Ile, and vnto Ivell lends

  Her hardlie-rendred name: That on her left, descends

  From Neroch’s neighboring woods; which, of that Forest borne,

  Her riualls proffered grace opprobriously doth scorne.

  Shee by her wandring course doth Athelney in-Ile:

  And for the greater state, her selfe she doth instile

  The nearest neighbouring flood to Arthurs ancient seat,

  Which made the Britaines name through all the world so great.

  Like Camelot, what place, was euer yet renownd?

  Where, as at Carlion, oft, hee kept the Table-round,

  Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long,

  From whence all Knightlie deeds, and braue atchieuements sprong.

  As some soft-sliding Rill, which from a lesser head

  (Yet in his going forth, by many a Fountaine fed)

  Extends it selfe at length vnto a goodly streame:

 

‹ Prev