ness before this might have found it out; I crave of your lordship the patronage of my Elysium, which, if the Muse fail me not, shall not be al together unworthy of your protection. Í have often adventured upon desperate untrodden ways, which hath drawn some severe censures upon many of my labours; but that neither hath, nor can ever trouble me. The Divine Poems in this small volume inserted, I consecrate to your religious countess, my most worthy lady. And so I rest

A

The honourer of you, and your noble family,

M. DRAYTON.

THE DESCRIPTION OF ELYSIUM.

PARADISE On Earth is found,

Though far from vulgar sight,

Which with those pleasures doth abound
That it Elysium hight.

Where, in delights that never fade,
The Muses lulled be,

And sit at pleasure in the shade

Of many a stately tree,

Which no rough tempest makes to reel,
Nor their strait bodies bows,
Their lofty tops do never feel
The weight of winter's snows;

In groves that evermore are green,
No falling leaf is there,

But Philomel (of birds the queen)
In music spends the year.

The merl upon her myrtle perch
There to the mavis sings,

Who from the top of some curl'd birch
Those notes redoubled rings.

There daisies damask every place,
Nor once their beauties lose,

That when proud Phœbus hides his face
Themselves they scorn to close.

The pansy and the violet here,
As seeming to descend

Both from one root, a very pair,

For sweetness do contend,

And pointing to a pink to tell
Which bears it, it is loth

To judge it; but replies, for smell
That it excels them both.

Wherewith displeas'd they hang their heads,
So angry soon they grow,

And from their odoriferous beds

Their sweets at it they throw.

The winter here a summer is,
No waste is made by time,
Nor doth the autumn ever miss
The blossoms of the prime.

The flower that July forth doth bring

In April here is seen,

The primrose, that puts on the spring,
In July decks each green.

The sweets for sov'reignty contend,
And so abundant be,

That to the very earth they lend,
And bark of every tree.

Rills rising out of every bank,
In wild meanders strain,
And playing many a wanton prank
Upon the speckled plain,

In gambols and lascivious gyres
Their time they still bestow,
Nor to their fountains none retirés,
Nor on their course will go.

Those brooks with lillies bravely deck'ď,
So proud and wanton made,
That they their courses quite neglect,
And seem as though they staid.

Fair Flora in her state to view
Which through those lillies looks,
For as those lillies lean'd to show
Their beauties to the brooks;

That Phoebus in his lofty race
Oft lays aside his beams,

And comes to cool his glowing face
In these delicious streams,

Oft spreading vines climb up the cleeves,
Whose ripen'd clusters there

Their liquid purple drop, which drives
A vintage through the year:

Those cleeves whose craggy sides are clad
With trees of sundry suits,

Which make continual summer glad,
Even bending with their fruits,

Some rip'ning, ready some to fall,
Some blossom'd, some to bloom,
Like gorgeous hangings on the wall
Of some rich princely room:

Pomegranates, lemons, citrons, só
Their laded branches bow,
Their leaves in number that outgo
Nor roomth will them allow.

There in perpetual summer's shade,
Apollo's prophets sit,

Among the flowers that never fade,
But flourish like their wit.

To whom the nymphs upon their lyres
Tune many a curious lay,

And with their most melodious quires
Make short the longest day.

The thrice three Virgins heavenly clear,
Their trembling timbrels sound
Whilst the three comely Graces there
Dance many a dainty round.

Decay nor age there nothing knows,
There is continual youth,

As time on plant or creatures grows,
So still their strength renew'th.

The poets' Paradise this is,
To which but few can come ;
The Muses' only bower of bliss,
Their dear Elysium,

Here happy souls, (their blessed bowers,
Free from the rude resort

Of beastly people) spend the hours
In harmless mirth and sport.

Then on to the Elysian plains
Apollo doth invite you,

Where he provides with pastoral strains,
In Nymphals to delight you.

THE MUSES' ELYSIUM.

THE FIRST NYMPHAL.

RODOPE, DOŽIDA.

This Nymphal of delights doth treat,
Choice beauties, and proportions neat,
Of curious shapes and dainty features
Describ'd in two most perfect creatures.
WHEN Phœbus with a face of mirth
Had flung abroad his beams,

To blanch the bosom of the earth,
And glaze the gliding streams;
Within a goodly myrtle grove,
Upon that hallow'd day

The nymphs to that bright queen of love

Their vows were us'd to pay.

Fair Rodope and Dorida

Met in those sacred shades,

Than whom the Sun in all his way
Ne'er saw two daintier maids.

And through the thickets thrill'd his fires,
Supposing to have seen

The sovereign goddess of desires,

Or Jove's imperious queen:

Both of so wond'rous beauties were,

In shape both so excel,

That to be parallell'd elsewhere,

No judging eye could tell.

And their affections to surpass,

As well it might be deem'd,

That th' one of them the other was,

And but themselves they seem'd.

And whilst the nymphs that near this place

Disposed were to play

At barley-break and prison-base,

Do pass the time away:

This peerless pair together set,

The other at their sport,

None near their free discourse to let,

Each other thus they court.

DORIDA. My sweet, my sovereign Rodope, My dear delight, my love,

That lock of hair thou sent'st to me,

I to this bracelet wove;

Which brighter every day doth grow
The longer it is worn,

As its delicious fellows do,

Thy temples that adorn.

RODOPE. Nay had I thine, my Dorida,

I would them so bestow,

As that the wind upon my way
Might backward make them flow,
So should it in its great'st excess
Turn to becalmed air,

And quite forget all boist❜rousness
To play with every hair.

DORIDA. To me like thine had Nature given A brow, so arch'd, so clear,

A front, wherein so much of Heaven

Doth to each eye appear;

The world should see, I would strike dead
The Milky-way that's now,

And say that nectar Hebe shed
Fell all upon my brow.

RODOPE. O had I eyes like Dorida's,
I would enchant the day,
And make the Sun to stand at gaze,
Till he forgot his way:

And cause his sister, queen of streams,
When so I list by night,

By her much blushing at my beams
T'eclipse her borrow'd light.

DORIDA. Had I a cheek like Rodope's,
In midst of which doth stand
A grove of roses, such as these,
In such a snowy land:

I would make the lily which we now
So much for whiteness name,

As drooping down the head to bow,
And die for very shame.

RODOPE. Had I a bosom like to thine,
When I it pleas'd to show,

T'what part o' th' sky I would incline

I would make the etherial bow;

My swannish breast branch'd all with blue, In bravery like the spring;

In winter to the general view

Full summer forth should bring.

DORIDA. Had I a body like my dear,
Were I so straight, so tall,

O, if so broad my shoulders were,
Had I waist so small;

I would challenge the proud queen of love

To yield to me for shape,

And I should fear that Mars or Jove

Would venture for my rape.

RODOPE. Had I a hand like thee, my girl,

(This hand O let me kiss!)

These ivory arrows pil'd with pearl,
Had I a hand like this;

I would not doubt at all to make

Each finger of my hand

To task swift Mercury to take
With his enchanting wand.

DORIDA. Had I a thigh like Rodope's;
Which 'twas my chance to view,
When lying on yon bank at ease
The wind thy skirt up blew ;

I would say it were a column wrought

To some intent divine,

And for our chaste Diana sought
A pillar for her shrine.

RODOPE. Had I a leg but like to thine,
That were so neat, so clean,

A swelling calf, a small so fine,

An ancle round and lean;

I would tell Nature she doth miss

Her old skill; and maintain,

She showed her master-piece in this,
Not to be done again.

DORIDA. Had I that foot hid in those shoes, (Proportion'd to my height)

Short heel, thin instep, even toes,
A sole so wond'rous strait;

The foresters and nymphs at this
Amazed all should stand,

And kneeling down should meekly kiss
The print left in the sand.

By this the nymphs came from their sport,
All pleased wondrous well,

And to those maidens make report
What lately them befel :

One said the dainty Lelipa
Did all the rest outgo,
Another would a wager lay
She would outstrip a rce;

Says one," How like ye Florimel?
There is your dainty face!"

A fourth reply'd, she lik'd that well,
Yet better lik'd her grace:

"She's counted, I confess," quoth she,
"To be our only pearl,

Yet have I heard her oft to be

A melancholy girl.”

Another said she quite mistook,

That only was her art,

When melancholy had her look,

Then mirth was in her heart.

"And hath she then that pretty trick?" Another doth reply:

"I thought no nymph could have been sick

Of that disease but Ï."

"I know you can dissemble well,"
Quoth one," to give you due;
But here be some (who I'll not tell)
Can do't as well as you."

Who thus replies, "I know that too,
We have it from our mother;

Yet there be some this thing can do
More cunningly than other:
If maidens but dissemble can
Their sorrow and their joy,
Their poor dissimulation then
Is but a very toy."

THE SECOND NYMPHAL

LALUS, CLEON, LIROPE.

The Muse new courtship doth devise,
By nature's strange varieties,
Whose rarities she here relates,
And gives you pastoral delicates.

LALUS, a jolly youthful lad,
With Cleon, no less crown'd

With virtues; both their beings had
On the Elysium ground.
Both having parts so excellent,
That it a question was,

Which should be the most eminent,
Or did in aught surpass.
This Cleon was a mountaineer,
And of the wilder kind,

And from his birth had many a year
Been nurst up by a hind:

And as the sequel well did show,
It very well might be;

For never hart, nor hare, nor roe,
Were half so swift as he,

But Lalus in the vale was bred
Amongst the sheep and neat,
And by those nymphs there choicely fed
With honey, milk, and wheat;
Of stature goodly, fair of speech,
And of behaviour mild,

Like those there in the valley rich,
That bred him of a child.

Of falconry they had the skill,
Their hawks to feed and fly,

No better hunters e'er clome hill,`
Nor halloo'd to a cry.

In dingles deep, and mountains hoar,
Oft with the bearded spear

They combated the tusky boar,
And slew the angry bear.

In music they were wondrous quaint,
Fine airs they could devise;
They very curiously could paint,
And neatly poetise;

That wagers many times were laid
On questions that arose,

Which song the witty Lalus made,
Which Cleon should compose.

The stately steed they manag'd well,
Of fence the art they knew,

For dancing they did all excel
The girls that to them drew;

To throw the sledge, to pitch the bar,

To wrestle, and to run,

They all the youth excell'd so far,
That still the prize they won.

These sprightly gallants lov'd a lass,
Call'd Lirope the Bright,

In the whole world there scarcely was
So delicate a wight.

There was no beauty so divine
That ever nymph did grace,
But it beyond itself did shine

In her more heavenly face:

What form she pleas'd each thing would take That e'er she did behold,

Of pebbles she could diamonds make,

Gross iron turn to gold:

Such power there with her presence came,

Stern tempests she allay'd,

The cruel tiger she could tame,

She raging torrents stay'd.

She chid, she cherish'd, she gave life,
Again she made to die,

She rais'd a war, appeas'd a strife,
With turning of her eye.

Some said a god did her beget,

But much deceiv'd were they,

Her father was a Rivulet,

Her mother was a Fay.

Her lineaments so fine that were,

She from the fairy took,

Her beauties and complexion clear,

By nature from the brook.

These rivals waiting for the hour

(The weather calm and fair)

When as she us'd to leave her bower,
To take the pleasant air:
Accosting her, their compliment
To her their goddess done;

By gifts they tempt her to consent,
When Lalus thus begun :

LALUS. Sweet Lirope, I have a lamb
Newly weaned from the dam,

Of the right kind, it is notted',
Naturally with purple spotted,
Into laughter it will put yon,

To see how prettily 'twill butt you;
When on sporting it is set,
It will beat you a curvet,
And at every nimble bound
Turn itself above the ground;
When 'tis hungry it will bleat,
From your hand to have its meat,
And when it hath fully fed,

It will fetch jumps about your head,
As innocently to express
Its silly sheepish thankfulness;
When you bid it, it will play,
Be it either night or day:
This, Lirope, I have for thee,
So thou alone wilt live with me. {

CLEON. From him O turn thine ear away,
And hear me, my lov'd Lirope,
I have a kid as white as milk,
His skin as soft as Naples silk,
His horns in length are wondrous even,
And curiously by Nature writhen;
It is of th' Arcadian kind,

There's not the like 'twixt either Ind;
If you walk, 'twill walk you by,
If you sit down, it down will lie,
It with gesture will you woo,

And counterfeit those things you do ;
O'er each hillock it will vault,
And nimbly do the summersault,
Upon the hinder legs 'twill go,
And follow you a furlong so;
And if by chance a tune you rote,
"Twill foot it finely to your note
Seek the world and you may miss
To find out such a thing as this:
This my love I have for thee,

So thou'lt leave him and go with me.

LIROPE. Believe me, youths, your gifts are rare, And you offer wondrous fair,

Lalus for lamb, Cleon for kid,

'Tis hard to judge which most doth bid:
And have you two such things in store,
And I ne'er knew of them before?
Well yet I dare a wager lay
That Brag my little dog shall play
As dainty tricks when I shall bid,
As Lalus' lamb, or Cleon's kid.

But 't may fall out that I may need them,
Till when ye may do well to feed them;
Your goat and mutton pretty be,
But, youths, these are no baits for me:
Alas, good men, in vain ye woo,
'Tis not your lamb nor kid will do.

LALUS. I have two sparrows white as snow,
Whose pretty eyes like sparks do show;
In her bosom Venus hatch'd them,
Where her little Cupid watch'd them,
Till they too fledge their nests forsook,
Themselves and to the fields betook,
Where by chance a fowler caught them,
Of whom I full dearly bought them;
They'll fetch you conserve from the hip2,
And lay it softly on your lip,

! Without horns.

2 The red fruit of the smooth bramble, VOL. IV.

Through their nibbling bills they'll chirup
And fluttering feed you with the sirup,
And if thence you put them by,
They to your white neck will fly,
And if you expulse them there,
They'll hang upon your braided hair;
You so long shall see them prattle
Till at length they'll fall to battle;
And when they have fought their fill,
You will smile to see them bill:
These birds my Lirope's shall be,
So thou'lt leave him and go with me.

CLEON. His sparrows are not worth a rush,
I'll find as good in every bush ;
Of doves I have a dainty pair,
Which when you please to take the air,
About your head shall gently hover,
Your clear brow from the Sun to cover,
And with their nimble wings shall fan you,
That neither cold nor heat shall tan you.
And like umbrellas with their feathers
Shield you in all sorts of weathers:
They be most dainty colour'd things,
They have damask backs and chequer'd wings;
Their necks more various colours show
Than there be mixed in the bow;
Venus saw the lesser dove,

And therewith was far in love,
Offering for't her golden ball,
For her son to play withal:
These my Lirope's shall be

So she'll leave him and go with me.

LIROPE. Then for sparrows, and for doves,

I am fitted 'twixt my loves;

But, Lalus, I take no delight

In sparrows, for they'll scratch and bite;
And though join'd, they are ever wooing,
Always billing if not doing;

'Twixt Venus' breasts if they have lien,
I much fear they'll infect mine:
Cleon, your doves are very dainty,
Tame pigeons else you know are plenty,
These may win some of your marrows,
I am not caught with doves nor sparrows.
I thank ye kindly for your cost,
Yet your labour is but lost.

LALUS. With full-leav'd lilies I will stick
Thy braded hair all o'er so thick,
That from it a light shall throw
Like the Sun's upon the snow.
Thy mantle shall be violet leaves,
With the fin'st the silk worm weaves,
As finely woven, whose rich smell
The air about thee so shall swell
That it shall have no power to move.
A ruff of pinks thy robe above
About thy neck so neatly set

That art it cannot counterfeit,

Which still shall look so fresh and new,
As if upon their roots they grew :
And for thy head I'll have a tire
Of netting, made of strawberry wire;
And in each knot that doth compose
A mesh, shall stick a half blown rose,
Red, damask, white, in order set
About the sides, shall run a fret
Of primroses, the tire throughout
With thrift and daisies fring'd about:

Gr