Egloga prima.

[The First Eclogue.]

Daphnes Amintas

Sith Phoebus now begins to flame,
O friend Amintas dear,
And placed hath his gorgeous globe
in midst of all the sphere,
And from that place doth cast his beams
where (they that stars define)
Lies point (do say) that termed is
right equinoctial line,
Whereas the Ram doth cause to spring
each herb and flower in field,
And forceth ground, that spoiled of green
did lie, new green to yield,
Let shepherds us yield also tales,
as best becomes the time:
Such tales as winter storms have stayed
in country poets' rhyme.
Begin to sing, Amintas, thou:
for why? thy wit is best,
And many a saged saw lies hid
within thine aged breast.
Oft have I heard, of shepherds old,
thy fame reported true;
No herdman lives, but knows the praise
to old Amintas due.
Begin therefore, and I give ear,
for talk doth me delight.
Go, boy; go drive the beasts to feed
while he his mind recite.
Thy praises, Daphnes, are too great,
and more for me than meet;
Nor ever I such saged saws
could sing in verses sweet.
And now to talk of springtime tales
my hairs too hoar do grow;
Such tales as these I told in time
when youthful years did flow.
But since, I cannot thee deny,
thy father's love doth bind,
In simple song I will address
myself, to show my mind.
Long hast thou, Daphnes, me required
the state of love to tell,
For in my youth I knew the force
and passions all full well.
Now love therefore I will define
and what it is declare,
Which way poor souls it doth entrap
and how it them doth snare.
My boy, remove my beasts from hence
and drive them farther down;
Upon the hills let them go feed
that join to yonder town.
O Cupid, king of fiery love,
aid thou my singing verse,
And teach me here the cause and case
of lovers to rehearse.
Direct my tongue in troth to tread,
with fury fill my brain,
That I may able be to tell
the cause of lovers' pain.
Opinions divers could I show,
but chiefest of them all
I will declare, and for the rest
with silence leave I shall.
A fervent humour (some do judge)
within the head doth lie,
Which issuing forth with poisoned beams
doth run from eye to eye,
And taking place abroad in heads
a while doth firmly rest
Till frenzy framed in fancy fond
descends from head to breast,
And poison strong from eyes outdrawn
doth pierce the wretched heart,
And all infects the blood about
and boils in every part.
Thus when the beams infected hath
the woeful lovers' blood,
The senses all do straight decay,
oppressed with fury's flood.
Then liberty withdraws herself
and bondage bears the sway,
Affection blind then leads the heart
and wit is wound away.
O Daphnes, then the pains appear
and torments all of hell.
Then seeks the seely wounded soul
the flames for to expel.
But all too late, alas, he strives,
for fancy bears the stroke,
And he must toil (no help there is)
in slavish servile yoke.
His blood corrupted all within
doth boil in every vein:
Then seeks he how to sue for salve
that may redress his pain.
And when the face he doth behold
by which he should have aid
And sees no help, then looks he long
and trembleth all afraid,
And museth at the framed shape
that hath his life in hands.
Now fast he flies about the flames,
now still amazed stands.
Yet hope relieves his hurtful heat,
and will doth pain make light;
And all the griefs that then he feels
doth presence still requite.
But when the light absented is
and beams in heart remain,
Then flames the fire fresh again
and new begins his pain.
Then long he looks his loss to see,
then sobs and sighs abound,
Then mourneth he to miss the mark
that erst too soon he found.
Then shadeful places out he looks,
and all alone he lives,
Exiling joy and mirth from him,
himself to wailing gives,
And still his mind thereon doth muse
and still thereof he prates.
O Daphnes, here I swear to thee,
no grief to lover's state.
If he but once behold the place
where he was wont to meet
The pleasant form that him enflamed,
and joyful countenance sweet,
The place (a wondrous thing I tell)
his grief augmenteth new,
Yet still he seeks the place to see
that most he should eschew.
If but the name rehearsed be
(a thing more strange to hear),
Then colour comes and goes in haste,
then quaketh he for fear, —
The very name hath such a force
that it can daze the mind
And make the man amazed to stand, —
what force hath love to bind?
Affection none to this is like,
it doth surmount them all.
Of griefs, the greatest grief, no doubt,
is to be Venus' thrall.
And therefore, Daphnes, now beware,
for thou art young and free;
Take heed of viewing faces long
for loss of liberty.
I shall not need (I think) to bid
thee, to detest the crime
Of wicked love that Jove did use
in Ganymede's time.
For rather would I (though it be much)
that thou should'st seek the fire
Of lawful love that I have told
than burn with such desire.
And thus an end: I wearied am,
my wind is old and faint,
Such matters I do leave to such
as finer far can paint.
Fetch in the goat that goes astray
and drive him to the fold.
My years be great; I will be gone,
for springtime nights be cold.
Great thanks to thee for this thy tale,
Amintas, here I give,
But never can I make amends
to thee whilst I do live.
Yet for thy pains (no recompense)
a small reward have here:
A whistle framed long ago,
wherewith my father dear
His joyful beasts was wont to keep.
No pipe for tune so sweet
Might shepherd ever yet possess, —
a thing for thee full meet.
Finis Eglogae primae.