English

Now had the sun, in golden chariot hurl'd,
Twice bid good-morrow to the nether world;
And Cynthia, in her orb and perfect round,
Twice view'd the shadows of the upper ground;
Twice had the day-star usher'd forth the light;
And twice the evening-star proclaim'd the night;
Ere once the sweet-fac'd boy (now all forlorn)
Came with his pipe to resalute the morn.
When grac'd by time (unhappy time the while)
The cruel swain (who ere knew swain so vile?)
Had struck the lad, in came the wat'ry nymph

But th' other fearing lest her noise might show
What path she took, which way her streams did flow:
As some wayfaring man strays thro' a wood,
Where beasts of prey, thirsting for human blood,
Lurk in their dens, he softly list'ning goes,
Not trusting to his heels, treads on his toes;
Dreads every noise he hears, thinks each small bush
To be a beast that would upon him rush;
Feareth to die, and yet his wind doth smother;
Now leaves this path, takes that, then to another:
Such was her course. This feared to be found,

And as when winter doth the earth array
In silver suit, and when the night and day
Are in dissension, night locks up the ground,
Which by the help of day is oft unbound,
A shepherd's boy with bow and shafts address'd,
Ranging the fields, having once pierc'd the breast
Of some poor fowl, doth with the blow straight rush
To catch the bird lies panting in the bush:
So rush'd this striker in, up Marine took,
And hasten'd with her to a near-hand brook.
Old shepherds sain (old shepherds sooth have sain)

As ebbing waters freely slide away
To pay their tribute to the raging sea;
When meeting with the flood they jostle stout.
Whether the one shall in, or th' other out:
Till the strong flood new power of waves doth bring,
And drives the river back into his spring:
So Marine's words off'ring to take their course,
By Love then ent'ring, were kept back, and force
To it, his sweet face, eyes, and tongue assign'd,
And threw them back again into her mind.
" How hard it is to leave and not to do
That which by nature we are prone unto!

Upon this hill there sat a lovely swain,
As if that Nature thought it great disdain
That he should (so through her his genius told him)
Take equal place with swains, since she did hold him
Her chiefest work, and therefore thought it fit
That with inferiors he should never sit.
Narcissus' change sure Ovid clean mistook,
He died not looking in a crystal brook,
But (as those which in emulation gaze)
He pin'd to death by looking on this face.
When he stood fishing by some river's brim,
The fish would leap, more for a sight of him

The drops within a cistern fell of stone,
Which fram'd by Nature, Art had never one
Half part so curious. Many spells then using,
The water's nymph 'twixt Marine's lips infusing
Part of this water, she might straight perceive
How soon her troubled thoughts began to leave
Her love-swoll'n breast; and that her inward flame
Was clean assuaged, and the very name
Of Celandine forgotten; did scarce know
If there were such a thing as love or no.
And sighing, therewithal threw in the air
All former love, all sorrow, all despair;

Marine that waking lay, said: Celandine.
He is the man that hates which some-admire;
He is the wight that loathes whom most desire;
'Tis only he to love denies subjecting,
And but himself, thinks none is worth affecting.
Unhappy me the while, accurs'd my fate,
That Nature gives no love where she gave hate.
The wat'ry rulers then perceived plain,
Nipp'd with the winter of love's frost, disdain,
This nonpareil of beauty had been led
To do an act which Envy pitied:
Therefore in pity did confer together

This being spoken by this water's god,
He straightway in his hand did take his rod,
And struck it on his bank, wherewith the flood
Did such a roaring make within the wood,
That straight the nymph who then sat on her shore,
Knew there was somewhat to be done in store:
And therefore hasting to her brother's spring
She spied what caus'd the waters' echoing.
Saw where fair Marine fast asleep did lie,
Whilst that the god still viewing her sat by:
Who when he saw his sister nymph draw near,
He thus 'gan tune his voice unto her ear:

Now till the sun shall leave us to our rest,
And Cynthia have her brother's place possess'd,
I shall go on: and first in diff'ring stripe,
The flood-god's speech thus tune on oaten pipe.
Or mortal, or a power above,
Enrag'd by fury, or by love,
Or both, I know not; such a deed
Thou wouldst effected, that I bleed
To think thereon: alas! poor elf,
What, grown a traitor to thyself?
This face, this hair, this hand so pure
Were not ordain'd for nothing, sure.
Nor was it meant so sweet a breath

Thus Remond said, and saw the fair Marine
Plac'd near a spring, whose waters crystalline
Did in their murmurings bear a part, and plain'd
That one so true, so fair, should be disdain'd:
Whilst in her cries, that fill'd the vale along,
Still Celand was the burthen of her song.
The stranger shepherd left the other swain,
To give attendance to his fleecy train;
Who, in departing from him, let him know,
That yonder was his freedom's overthrow,
Who sat bewailing (as he late had done)
That love by true affection was not won.