Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

  Whose reason whil’st he seekes industriously to knowe,

  A great way he hath gon, and Hereford doth showe

  Her rising Spires aloft, when as the Princely Wye;

  Him from his Muse to wake, arrests him by and by.

  Whose meeting to behold, with how well ordered grace

  Each other entertaines, how kindlie they embrace;

  For ioy, so great a shout the bordering Citie sent,

  That with the sound thereof, which thorough Haywood went,

  The Wood-Nymphs did awake that in the Forest won;

  To know the sudden cause, and presently they ron

  With lockes vncomb’d, for haste the louelie Wye to see

  (The floud that grac’t her most) this daie should married be

  To that more louelie Lug; a Riuer of much fame,

  That in her wandering bankes should lose his glorious name.

  For Hereford, although her Wye she hold so deere,

  Yet Lug (whose longer course doth grace the goodlie Sheere,

  And with his plentious Streame so manie Brookes doth bring)

  Of all hers that be North is absolutelie King.

  But Marcely, grieu’d that he (the neerest of the rest,

  And of the mountaine kind) not bidden was a guest

  Vnto this nuptiall Feast, so hardly it doth take,

  As (meaning for the same his station to forsake)

  Inrag’d and mad with griefe, himselfe in two did riue;

  The Trees and Hedgesneere, before him vp doth driue,

  And dropping headlong downe three daies together fall:

  Which, bellowing as he went, the Rockes did so appall,

  That they him passage made, who Coats and Chappels crusht:

  So violentlie he into his Valley rusht.

  But Wye (from her deare Lug whom nothing can restraine,

  In many a pleasant shade, her ioy to entertaine)

  To Rosse her course directs; and right her name to showe,

  Oft windeth in her waie, as backe she meant to go.

  Meander, who is said so intricate to bee,

  Hath not so many turnes, nor crankling nookes as shee.

  The Herefordian fields when welneare hauing past,

  As she is going forth, two sister Brookes at last

  That Soile her kindly sends, to guide her on her waie;

  Neat Gamar, that gets in swift Garran: which do lay

  Their waters in one Banke, augmenting of her traine,

  To grace the goodlie Wye, as she doth passe by Deane.

  Beyond whose equall Spring vnto the West doth lie

  The goodly Golden Vale, whose lushious sents do flie

  More free then Hyblas sweets; and twixt her bordering hils,

  The aire with such delights and delicacie fils,

  As makes it loth to stirre, or thence those smels to beare.

  Th’Hesperides scarce had such pleasures as be there:

  Which sometime to attaine, that mighty sonne of Ioue

  One of his Labors made, and with the Dragon stroue,

  That neuer clos’d his eies, the golden fruit to guard;

  As if t’enrich this place, from others, Nature spar’d:

  Banks crown’d with curled Groues, from cold to keepe the Plaine,

  Fields batfull, flowrie Meades, in state them to maintaine;

  Floods, to make fat those Meades, from Marble veines that spout,

  To shew, the wealth within doth answer that without.

  So braue a Nymph she is, in euery thing so rare,

  As to sit down by her, she thinkes there’s none should dare.

  And forth she sends the Doire, vpon the Wye to wait.

  Whom Munno by the way more kindly doth intreat

  (For Eskle, her most lou’d, and Olcons onely sake)

  With her to go along, till Wye she ouertake.

  To whom she condiscends, from danger her to shield,

  That th’Monumethian parts from th’Heresordian field.

  Which manly Maluern sees from furthest of the Sheere,

  On the Wigornian waste when Northward looking neere,

  On Corswood casts his eie, and on his home-born Chase,

  Then constantly beholds, with an vnusuall pase

  Team with her tribute come vnto the Cambrian Queene,

  Neere whom in all this place a Riuer’s scarcely seene,

  That dare auouch her name; Teame scorning any Spring

  But what with her along from Shropshire she doth bring,

  Except one namelesse Streame that Maluern sends her in,

  And Laughern though but small: when they such grace that win,

  There thrust in with the Brookes inclosed in her Banke.

  Teame lastly thither com’n with water is so ranke,

  As though she would contend with Sabryne, and doth craue

  Of place (by her desert) precedencie to haue:

  Till chancing to behold the others godlike grace,

  So strongly is surpris’d with beauties in her face

  By no meanes she could hold, but needsly she must showe

  Her liking; and her selfe doth into Sabrine throwe.

  Not farre from him againe when Maluern doth perceaue

  Two hils, which though their heads so high they doe not heaue,

  Yet duly do obserue great Maluern, and affoord

  Him reuerence: who againe, as fits a gratious Lord,

  Vpon his Subiects looks, and equall praise doth giue

  That Woodberry so nigh and neighbourlie doth liue

  With Abberley his friend, deseruing well such fame

  That Saxton in his Maps forgot them not to name:

  Which, though in their meane types small matter doth appeare,

  Yet both of good account are reckned in the Shiere,

  And highly grac’t of Teame in his proud passing by.

  When soone the goodlie Wyre, that wonted was so hie

  Her statelie top to reare, ashamed to behold

  Her straight and goodlie Woods vnto the Fornace sold

  (And looking on her selfe, by her decay doth see

  The miserie wherein her sister Forrests bee)

  Of Erisicthons end begins her to bethinke,

  And of his cruell plagues doth wish they all might drinke

  That thus haue them dispoil’d: then of her owne despight;

  That shee, in whom her Towne faire Beudley tooke delight,

  And from her goodlie seat conceiu’d so great a pride,

  In Severne on her East, Wyre on the setting side,

  So naked left of woods, of pleasure, and forlorne,

  As she that lov’d her most, her now the most doth scorne;

  With endlesse griese perplext, her stubborne breast shee strake,

  And to the deafened ayre thus passionately spake;

  You Driades, that are said with Oakes to liue and die,

  Wherefore in our distresse doe you our dwellings flie;

  Vpon this monstrous Age and not reuenge our wrong?

  For cutting downean Oake that iustlie did belong

  To one of Ceres Nymphes, in Thessaly that grew

  In the Dodonean Groue (O Nymphes!) you could pursue

  The sonne of Perops then, and did the Goddesse stirre

  That villanie to wreake the Tyrant did to her:

  Who, with a dreadfull frowne did blast the growing Graine:

  And hauing from him reft what should his life maintaine,

  Shee vnto Scythia sent, for Hunger, him to gnawe,

  And thrust her downe his throat, into his stanchlesse mawe:

  Who, when nor Sca nor Land for him susficient were,

  With his deuouring teeth his wretched did teare.

  This did you for one Tree: but of whole they

  That in these impious times haue been the vile decay

  (Whom I may iustlie call their Countries deadly foes)

  Gainst them you moue no Power, spoyle goes.

  How manie grieue
d soules in futuretime shall starue,

  For that which they haue rapt their beastlie lust to serue!

  Wee, sometime that the state of famous Britaine were,

  For whom she was renown’d in Kingdoms farre and neere,

  Are ransackt; and our Trees so hackt aboue the ground,

  That where their lostie tops their neighboring Countries crown’d,

  Their Trunkes (like aged folkes) now bare and naked stand,

  As for reuenge to heauen each held a withered hand:

  And where the goodly Heards of high-palm’d Harts did gaze

  Vpon the passer by, there now doth onely graze

  The gall’d-backe carrion Iade, and hurtfull Swine do spoile

  Once to the Syluan Powers our consecrated soile.

  This vttered she with griefe: and more she would haue spoke:

  When the Salopian floods her of her purpose broke,

  And silence did enioyne; a listning eare to lend

  To Seuerne, which was thought did mighty things intend.

  POLY-OLBION: THE EIGHTH SONG

  The Argument

  The goodly Severne brauely sings

  The noblest of her British Kings;

  At Caesars landing what we were,

  And of the Roman Conquests here:

  Then shewes, to her deare Britans fame,

  How quicklie christned they became;

  And of their constancie doth boast,

  In sundry for tunes strangely tost:

  Then doth the Saxons landing tell,

  And how by them the Britans fell;

  Cheeres the Salopian Mountaines hie,

  That on the west of Severne lie;

  Calls downe each Riueret from her Spring,

  Their Queene vpon her way to bring;

  Whom downe to Bruge the Muse attends:

  Where, leauing her, this Song shee ends.

  TO Salop when her selfe cleere Sabrine comes to showe,

  And wisely her bethinks the way shee had to goe,

  South-west-ward casts her course; & with an amorous eye

  Those Countries whence shee came, survayeth (passing by)

  Those Lands in Ancient times old Cambria claym’d her due,

  For refuge when to her th’oppressed Britans flew;

  By England now vsurp’t, who (past the wonted Meeres,

  Her sure and soueraigne banks) had taken sundry Sheeres,

  Which shee her Marches made: whereby those Hills of fame

  And Riuers stood disgrac’t; accounting it their shame,

  That all without that Mound which Mercian Offa cast

  To runne from North to South, athwart the Cambrian wast,

  Could England not suffice, but that the stragling Wye,

  Which in the hart of Wales was some-time said to lye,

  Now onely for her bound proud England did prefer.

  That Severne, when shee sees the wrong thus offred her,

  Though by iniurious Time depriued of that place

  Which anciently shee held: yet loth that her disgrace

  Should on the Britans light, the Hills and Riuers neere

  Austerely to her calls, commaunding them to heare

  In her deere childrens right (their Ancesters of yore,

  Now thrust betwixt her selfe, and the Virginian shore,

  Who draue the Giants hence that of the Earth were bred,

  And of the spacious Ile became the soueraigne head)

  What from autentique bookes shee liberally could say.

  Of which whilst shee bethought her; West-ward euery way,

  The Mountaines, Floods, and Meeres, to silence them betake:

  When Severne lowting lowe, thus grauely them bespake;

  How mightie was that man, and honoured still to bee,

  That gaue this Ile his name, and to his children three,

  Three Kingdoms in the same? which, time doth now denie,

  With his arriuall heere, and primer Monarchy.

  , though thou canst thy Locrine easely lose,

  Yet Cambria, him, whom Fate her ancient Founder chose,

  In no wise will forgoe; nay, should Albania leaue

  Her Albanact for ayde, and to the Scythian cleaue.

  And though remorselesse Rome, which first did vs enthrall,

  As barbarous but esteem’d, and stickt not so to call;

  The ancient Britans yet asceptred King obey’d

  Three hundred yeeres before Romes great foundation laid;

  And had a thousand yeeres an Empire strongly stood,

  Ere Caesar to her shores here stemd the circling Flood;

  And long before, borne Armes against the barbarous Hun,

  Heere landing with intent the Ile to ouer-run:

  And following them in flight, their Generall Humber drownd

  In that great arme of Sea, by his great name renown’d;

  And her great Builders had, her Citties who did reare

  With Fanes vnto her Gods, and Flamins euery where.

  Nor Troynouant alone a Citty long did stand;

  But after, soone againe by Ebranks powerfull hand

  Yorke lifts her Towers aloft: which scarcely finisht was,

  But as they, by those Kings; so by Rudhudibras,

  Kents first and famous Towne, with Winchester, arose:

  And other, others built, as they fit places chose.

  So Britaine to her praise, of all conditions brings;

  The warlike, as the wise. Of her courageous Kings,

  Brute Green-shield: to whose name we prouidence impure,

  Diuinely to reviue the Land’s first Conqueror, Brute.

  So had she those were learn’d, endu’d with nobler parts:

  As, he from learned Greece, that (by the liberall Arts)

  To Stamford, in this Ile, seem’d Athens to transfer;

  Wise Bladud, of her Kings that great Philosopher;

  Who found our boyling Bathes; and in his knowledge hie,

  Disdaining humane paths, heere practiced to flie.

  Of iustly vexed Leire, and those who last did tug

  In worse then Ciuill warre, the sonnes of Gorbodug

  (By whose vnnaturall strife the Land so long was tost)

  I cannot stay to tell, nor shall my Britaine boast;

  But, of that man which did her Monarchy restore,

  Her first imperiall Crowne of gold that euer wore,

  And that most glorious type of soueraignty regain’d;

  Mulmutius: who this Land in such estate maintain’d

  As his great Bel-sire Brate from Albions heires it wonne.

  This Grand-child, great as he, those foure proud Streets begun

  That each way crosse this Ile, and bounds did them allow.

  Like priuiledge he lent the T emple and the Plow:

  So studious was this Prince in his most forward zeale

  To the Celestiall power, and to the Publique weale.

  Bellinus he begot, who Dacia proud subdu’d;

  And Brennus, who abroad a worthier warre pursu’d,

  Asham’d of ciuill strife; at home heere leauing all:

  And with such goodly Youth, in Germany and Gaul

  As he had gather’d vp, the Alpin Mountaines past,

  And brauely on the banks of fatall Allia chas’t

  The Romans (that her streame distained with their gore)

  And through proud Rome, display’d his British Ensigne bore:

  There, ballancing his sword against her baser gold,

  The Senators for slaues hee in her Forum sold.

  At last, by power expell’d, yet proud of late successe,

  His forces then for Greece did instantly addresse;

  And marching with his men vpon her fruitfull face,

  Made Macedon first stoope; then The ssaly, and Thrace;

  His souldiers there enricht with all Peonia’s spoyle;

  And where to Greece he gaue the last and deadliest foyle,

  In that most dreadfull fight
, on that more dismall day,

  O’rthrew their vt most prowesse at sad Thermopyle;

  And daring of her Gods, adventur’d to haue tane

  Those sacred things enshrin’d in wise Apollo’s Fane:

  To whom when thundring Heauen pronounc’t her fearefulst word,

  Against the Delphian Power he shak’t his irefull sword.

  As of the British blood, the natiue Cambri here

  (So of my Cambria call’d) those valiant Cymbri were

  (When Britaine with her brood so peopled had her seat,

  The soyle could not suffice, it daily grew so great)

  Of Denmarke who themselues did anciently possesse,

  And to that straitned poynt, that vtmost Chersonesse,

  My Countries name bequeath’d; whence Cymbrica it tooke:

  Yet long were not compriz’d within that little nooke,

  But with those Almaine powers this people issued forth:

  And like some boystrous wind arising from the North,

  Came that vnwieldie host; that, which way it did moue,

  The very burthenous earth before it seem’d to shoue,

  And onely meant to claime the Vniuerse its owne.

  In this terrestriall Globe, as though some world vnknowne,

  By pampred Natures store too prodigally fed

  (And surfetting there-with) her surcrease vomited,

  These roaming vp and downe to seeke some setling roome,

  First like a Deluge fell vpon Illyricum,

  And with his Roman powers Papyrius ouer-threw;

  Then, by great Belus brought against those Legions, slew

  Their forces which in France Aurelius Scaurus led;

  And afterward againe, as brauely vanquished

  The Consulls Caepio, and stout Manlius on the Plaine,

  Where Rhodanus was red with blood of Latines slaine.

  In greatnes next succeeds Belinus worthy sonne,

  Gurgustus: who soone left what his great Father wonne,

  To Guynteline his heire: whose Queene, beyond her kind,

  In her great husbands peace, to shew her vpright mind,

  To wise Mulmutius lawes, her Martian first did frame:

  From which we ours deriue, to her eternall fame.

  So Britaine forth with these, that valiant Bastard brought,

  Morindus, Danius sonne, which with that Monster fought

  His subiects that deuour’d; to shew himselfe againe

  Their Martyr, who by them selected was to raigne.

  So Britaine likewise boasts her Elidure the iust,

  Who with his people was of such especiall trust,

  That (Archigallo falne into their generall hate,

  And by their powerfull hand depriu’d of kingly state)

  Vnto the Regall Chayre they Elidure aduanc’t: