Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

  Which sound him all the way, unto the learned springs,

  Where he, his soveraigne Ouze most happily doth meet,

  And him, the thrice-three maids, Apollos ofspring, greet 220

  With all their sacred gifts: thus, expert being growne

  In musicke; and besides, a curious maker knowne:

  This Charwell (as I said) the fitst these floods among,

  For silence having call’d, thus to th’assembly song;

  Stand fast ye higher hills; low vallies easily lie: 225

  And forrests that to both you equally apply

  (But for the greater part, both wilde and barren be)

  Retire ye to your wastes; and rivers only we,

  Oft meeting let us mixe: and with delightfull grace,

  Let every beautious nymph, her best lov’d flood imbrace, 230

  An alien be he borne, or neer to her owne spring,

  So from his native fount he bravely flourishing,

  Along the flowry fields, licentiously do straine,

  Greeting each curled grove, and circling every plaine;

  Or hasting to his fall, his sholy gravell scowr’s, 235

  And with his crystall front, then courts the climing towres.

  Let all the world be judge, what mountaine hath a name,

  Like that from whose proud foot, their springs some flood of fame:

  And in the earth’s survay, what seat like that is set,

  Whose streets some ample streame, aboundantly doth wet? 240

  Where is there haven found, or harbour, like that road,

  Int’which some goodly flood, his burthen doth unload?

  By whose rank swelling streame, the far-fetcht forraine fraught,

  May up to in-land townes conveniently be brought.

  Of any part of earth, we be the most renown’d; 245

  That countries very oft, nay, empires oft we bound.

  As Rubicon, much fam’d, both for his fount and fall,

  The ancient limit held, twixt Italy and Gaule.

  Europe and Asia keep on Tanais either side.

  Such honor have we floods, the world (even) to divide. 250

  Nay: kingdoms thus we prove are christened oft by us;

  Iberia takes her name of crystall Iberus,

  Such reverence to our kinde the wiser ancients gave,

  As they suppos’d each flood a deity to have:

  But with our fame at home returne we to proceed. 255

  In Britanne here we find, our Severne, and our Tweed,

  The tripartited ile doe generally divide,

  To England, Scotland, Wales, as each doth keep her side.

  Trent cuts the land in two, so equally, as tho

  Nature it pointed-out, to our great Brute to show 260

  How to his mightie sonnes the iland he might share.

  A thousand of this kinde, and neerer, I will spare;

  Where if the state of floods, at large I list to show,

  I proudly could report how Pactolus doth throwe

  Up graines of perfect gold; and of great Ganges tell,

  Which when full India’s showers inforceth him to swell, 266

  Gilds with his glistering sands the over-pampered shore:

  How wealthy Tagus first by tumbling down his ore,

  The rude and slothfull Moores of old Iberia taught,

  To search into those hills, from which such wealth he brought. 270

  Beyond these if I pleas’d, I to your praise could bring,

  In sacred Tempe, how (about the hoofe-plow’d spring)

  The Heliconian maides, upon that hallowed ground,

  Recounting heavenly hymnes eternally are crown’d.

  And as the earth doth us in her owne bowels nourish;

  So every thing, that growes by us, doth thrive and flourish. 276

  To godly vertuous men, we wisely likened are:

  To be so in themselves, that do not only care;

  But by a sacred power, which goodnesse doth awaite,

  Doe make those vertuous too, that them associate.

  By this, the wedding ends, and brake up all the showe: 281

  And Tames, got, borne, and bred, immediately doth flowe,

  To Windsor-ward amaine (that with a wondring eye,

  The forrest might behold his awfull emperie)

  And soon becometh great, with waters wext so rank,

  That with his wealth he seemes to retch his widned bank: 286

  Till happily attayn’d his grandsire Chilterns grounds,

  Who with his beechen wreaths this King of rivers crownes.

  Amongst his holts and hils, as on his way he makes,

  At Reading once arriv’d, cleere Kennet overtakes:

  Her lord the stately Tames, which that great flood againe, 291

  With many signes of joy doth kindly entertaine.

  Then Loddon next comes in, contributing her store;

  As still we see, the much runnes ever to the more.

  Set out with all this pomps, when this emperiall streame, 295

  Himselfe establisht sees, amidst his watry realme,

  His much-lov’d Henly leaves, and proudly doth pursue

  His wood nymph Windsors seate, her lovely site to view.

  Whose most delightful face when once the river sees.

  Which shewes her selfe attir’d in tall and stately trees, 300

  He in such earnest love with amorous gestures wooes,

  That looking still at her, his way was like to loose;

  And wandring in and out so wildly seems to goe,

  As headlong he himselfe into her lap would throw.

  Him with the like desire the forrest doth imbrace,

  And with her presence strives her Tamefs as much to grace. 306

  Nor forrest, of them all, so fit as she doth stand.

  When princes, for their sports, her pleasures will command,

  No wood-nymph as her selfe such troupes hath ever seene,

  Nor can such quarries boast as have in Windsor beene. 310

  Nor any ever had so many solemne dayes;

  So brave assemblies viewd, nor took so rich assaies.

  Then, hand in hand, her Tames the forrest softly brings,

  To that supreamest place of the great English Kings,

  The Garters royall seate, from him who did advance

  That princely order first, our first that conquered France; 316

  The Temple of Saint George, whereas his honored knights,

  Upon his hallowed day, observe their ancient rites:

  Where Eaton is at hand to nurse that learned brood,

  To keepe the Muses still neere to this princely flood;

  That nothing there may want, to beawtifie that seate, 321

  With every pleasure stor’d: And here my song compleate.

  POLY-OLBION: THE SIXTEENTH SONG

  The Argument

  Olde Ver, neere to Saint Albans, brings

  Watling to talk of auncient things;

  What Verlam was before she fell,

  And many more sad ruines tell.

  Of the foure old Emperiall Waies,

  The course they held, and too what Seas;

  Of those seauen Saxon Kingdomes here,

  Their sites, and how they bounded were.

  Then Pure-vale vants her rich estate:

  And Lea bewraies her wretched Fate.

  The Muse, led on with much delight,

  Deliuers Londons happy site;

  Showes this loose Ages leud abuse:

  And for this time there staies the Muse.

  THE Brydall of our Tame and Princely Isis past:

  And Tamesis their sonne, begot, and wexing fast,

  Inuiteth Crystill Colne his wealth on him to lay,

  Whose beauties had intic’t his Soueraine Tames to stay,

  Had he not been inforc’t, by his vnruly traine.

  For Brent, a pretty Brook, allures him on againe,

  Great London to lalute, whose hie-r
ear’d Turrets throng

  To gaze vpon the Flood, as he doth passe along.

  Now, as the Tames is great, so most transparent Colne

  Feeles, with excessiue ioy, her amorous bosome swolne,

  That of long esteem’d, a famous auncient Flood

  (Vpon whose aged Bank olde Verlamchester stood,

  Before the Roman rule) here glorify’d of yore,

  Vnto her cleerer banks contributed his store;

  Enlarging both her streame, and strengthening his renowne,

  Where the delicious Meads her through her course doe crown.

  This Ver (as I haue said) Colnes tributary brook,

  On Verlams ruin’d walles as sadly he doth look,

  Neere Holy Albans Towne, where his rich shrine was set,

  Old Watling in his way the Flood doth ouer-get.

  Where after reuerence done, Ver quoth the Ancient Street

  Tis long since thou and I first in this place did meet.

  And so it is quoth Ver, and we haue liu’d to see

  Things in farre better state then at this time they be:

  But he that made, amend: for much their goes amisse.

  Quoth Watling, gentle flood, yea so in truth it is:

  And since of this thou speakst; the very sooth to say,

  Since Great Mulmutius, first, made me the noblest Way,

  The soyle is altered much: the cause I pray thee showe.

  The time that thou hast liu’d, hath taught thee much to knowe.

  I faine would vnderstand, why this delightfull place,

  In former time that stood so hie in Natures grace

  (Which bare such store of graine, and that so wondrous great,

  That all the neighboring Coast was cald the soyle of wheate)

  Of later time is turn’d a hotte and hungry sand,

  Which scarce repayes the seed first cast into the the Land.

  At which the silent brooke shrunk-in his siluer head,

  And fain’d as he away would instantly haue fled;

  Suspecting, present speech might passed griefe renew.

  Whom Watling thus againe doth seriously pursue;

  I pray thee be not coy, but answere my demand:

  The cause of this (deer Flood) I faine would vnderstand.

  Thou saw’st when Verlam once her head aloft did

  (Which in her cinders now lies sadly buried heere)

  With Alablaster, Tuch, and Porphery adorn’d,

  When (welneare) in her pride great Troynouant she scorn’d.

  Thou sawest great-burthen’d Ships through these thy valleyes pass,

  Where now the sharp-edg’d Sithe sheeres vp the spyring grasse:

  That where the vgly Seale and Porpose v’sd to play,

  The Grashopper and Ant now lord it all the day:

  Where now Saint Albans stands was called Holme-hurst then;

  Whose sumptuous Fane we see neglected now agen.

  This rich and goodly Fane which ruind thou doest see,

  Quoth Ver, the motiue is that thou importun’st me:

  But to another thing thou cunningly doest flie,

  And reason seem’st to vrge of her sterilitie.

  With that he setcht a sigh, and ground his teeth in rage;

  Quoth Ver euen for the sin of this accursed Age.

  Behold that goodly Fane, which ruind now doth stand,

  To holy Albon built, first Martyr of the Land;

  Who in the faith of Christ from Rome to Britanne came,

  And dying in this place, resign’d his glorious Name.

  In memory of whom, (as more then halfe Diuine)

  Our English Off a rear’d a rich and sumptuous shrine

  And Monastary heere: which our succeding kings,

  From time to time endow’d with many goodly things.

  And many a Christian Knight was buried heere, before

  The Norman set his foote vpon this conquered shore;

  And after those braue spirits in all those balefull stowres,

  That with Duke Robert went against the Pagan powers,

  And in their Countries right at Cressy those that stood,

  And that at Poyters bath’d their bilbowes in French blood;

  Their valiant Nephewes next at Agin-court that fought,

  Whereas rebellious France vpon her knees was brought:

  In this religious house at some of their returns,

  When nature claym’d her due, here plac’t their hallowed vrnes:

  Which now deuowring Time, in his so mighty waste,

  Demolishing those walls, hath vtterly defac’t.

  So that the earth to feele the ruinous heaps of stones,

  That with the burth’nous weight now presse their sacred boanes,

  Forbids this wicked brood, should by her fruits be fed;

  As loathing her owne womb, that such loose children bred.

  Herewith transported quite, to these exclaimes he fell:

  Liues no man, that this world her grieuous crimes dare tell?

  Where be those noble spirits for ancient things that stood?

  When in my prime of youth I was a gallant flood;

  In those free golden dayes, it was the Satyres vse

  To taxe the guilty times, and raile vpon abuse:

  But soothers find the way preferment most to win;

  Who seruing Great mens turnes, become the bauds to sin.

  When Watling in his words that tooke but small delight,

  Hearing the angry Brook so cruelly to bite;

  As one that faine would driue these fancies from his mind,

  Quoth he, Ile tell thee things that sute thy gentler kind.

  My Song is of my selfe, and my three sister Streets,

  Which way each of vs runne, where each his fellow meets,

  Since vs, his Kingly Waies, Mulmutius first began,

  From Sea, againe to Sea, that through the Iland ran.

  Which that in mind to keep posterity might haue,

  Appointing first our course, this priuiledge he gaue,

  That no man might arrest, or debtors goods might seize

  In any of vs fowre his militarie Waies.

  And though the Fosse in length exceed me many a mile,

  That holds from shore to shore the length of all the Ile,

  From where Rich Cornwall points, to the Iberian Seas,

  Till colder Cathnes tells the scattered Orcades,

  I measuring but the bredth, that is not halfe his gate;

  Yet, for that I am grac’t with goodly Londons state,

  And Tames and Seuerne both since in my course I crosse,

  And in much greater trade; am worthier farre then Fosse.

  But ô vnhappie chance! through times disastrous lot,

  Our other fellow Streets lie vtterly forgot:

  As Icning, that set out from Yarmouth in the East,

  By the Iceni then being generally possest,

  Was of that people first tearm’d Icning in her race,

  Vpon the Chiltern here that did my course imbrace:

  Into the dropping South and bearing then outright,

  Vpon the Solent Sea stopt on the Ile-of-Wight.

  And Rickneld, forth that raught from Cambria’s farther shore,

  Where South-Wales now shoots forth Saint Dauid’s Promontore.

  And, on his mid-way neere, did me in England meet;

  Then in his oblique course the lusty stragling Street

  Soone ouertook the Fosse; and toward the fall of Tine,

  Into the Germane Sea dissolu’d at his decline.

  Here Watling would haue ceast, his tale as hauing tolde:

  But now this Flood that faine the Street in talke would hold,

  Those ancient things to heare, which well old Watling knew,

  With these entising words, her fairely forward drew.

  Right Noble Street, quoth he, thou hast liu’d long, gone farre,

  Much trafique had in peace, much trauailed in warre;
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br />   And in thy larger course suruay’st as sundry grounds

  (Where I poore Flood am lockt within these narrower bounds,

  And like my ruin’d selfe these ruins only see,

  And there remains not one to pittie them or me)

  On with thy former speech: I pray theesomwhat say.

  For, Watling, as thou art a military Way,

  Thy story of old Streets likes me so wondrous well,

  That of the ancient folk I faine would heare thee tell.

  With these perswasiue words, smooth Ver the Watling wan:

  Stroking her. dusty face, when thus the Street began;

  When once their seauen-fold Rule the Saxons came to reare,

  And yet with halfe this Ile sufficed scarcely were,

  Though from the Inland part the Britans they had chas’t,

  Then vnderstand how heere themselues the Saxons plac’t.

  Where in Great Britans state foure people of her owne

  Were by the seuerall names of their abodes well knowne

  (As, in that horne which iuttes into the Sea so farre,

  Wherein our Deuonsbire now, and furthest Cornewall are,

  The old Danmonij dwelt: so hard againe at hand,

  The Durotriges sat on the Dorsetian Sand:

  And where from Sea to Sea the Belgae forth were let,

  Euen from Southhamptons shore, through Wilt and Sommerset,

  The Attrebates in Bark vnto the Bank of Tames,

  Betwixt the Celtick sleeue and the Sabrinian streames)

  The Saxons there set down one Kingdome: which install’d,

  And being West, they it their Westerne kingdom call’d.

  So Eastward where by Tames the Trinobants were set,

  To Trinouant their Towne, for that their name in debt,

  That London now we tearme, the Saxons did possesse,

  And their East kingdome call’d, as Essex doth expresse;

  The greatest part thereof, and still their name doth beare;

  Though Middlesex therein, and part of Hartford were;

  From Colne vpon the West, vpon the East to Stour,

  Where mighty Tames himselfe doth into Neptune pour.

  As to our farthest Rise, where forth those Fore-lands leane,

  Which beare their chaulky browes into the German Maine,

  The Angles which arose out of the Saxon race,

  Allur’d with the delights and fitnes of that place,

  Where the Iceni liu’d did set their kingdome downe,

  From where the wallowing Seas those queachy Washes drowne

  That Ely doe in-Ile, to martyred Edmonds Ditch,

  Till those Norfolcian shores vast Neptune doth inrich:

  Which (farthest to the East of this diuided Ile)