FullReads

“Ne sleepe, the harbenger* of wearie wights, 470
Shall ever lodge upon mine eye-lids more,
Ne shall with rest refresh my fainting sprights,
Nor failing force to former strength restore:
But I will wake and sorrow all the night
With Philumene*, my fortune to deplore; 475
With Philumene, the partner of my plight.
[* Harbenger, one who provides lodging or repose.]
[** Philumene, Philomel.]

“And ever as I see the starre to fall,
And under ground to goe to give them light
Which dwell in darknesse, I to mind will call
How my faire starre, that shind on me so bright, 480
Fell sodainly and faded under ground;
Since whose departure, day is turnd to night,
And night without a Venus starre is found.

“But soon as day doth shew his deawie face,
And cals foorth men unto their toylsome trade, 485
I will withdraw me to some darkesome place,
Or some dere* cave, or solitarie shade;
There will I sigh, and sorrow all day long,
And the huge burden of my cares unlade. 489
Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong.
[* Qu. derne, lonely? Or, drere?]

VII.

“Henceforth mine eyes shall never more behold
Faire thing on earth, ne feed on false delight
Of ought that framed is of mortall mould,
Sith that my fairest flower is faded quight;
For all I see is vaine and transitorie, 495
Ne will be held in any stedfast plight,
But in a moment loose their grace and glorie.

“And ye, fond Men! on Fortunes wheele that ride,
Or in ought under heaven repose assurance,
Be it riches, beautie, or honours pride, 500
Be sure that they shall have no long endurance,
But ere ye be aware will flit away;
For nought of them is yours, but th’only usance
Of a small time, which none ascertains may.

“And ye, true Lovers! whom desastrous chaunce, 505
Hath farre exiled from your ladies grace,
To mourne in sorrow and sad sufferauncc,
When ye doe heare me in that desert place
Lamenting loud my Daphnes elegie,
Helpe me to waile my miserable case, 510
And when life parts vouchsafe to close mine eye.

“And ye, more happie Lovers! which enioy
The presence of your dearest loves delight,
“When ye doe heare my sorrowfull annoy,
Yet pittie me in your empassiond spright, 515
And thinke that such mishap as chaunst to me
May happen unto the most happiest wight;
For all mens states alike unstedfast be.

“And ye, ray fellow Shepheards! which do feed
Tour carelesse flocks on hils and open plaines, 520
With better fortune than did me succeed,
Remember yet my undeserved paines;
And when ye heare that I am dead or slaine,
Lament my lot, and tell your fellow-swaines
That sad Aleyon dyde in lifes disdaine. 525