Marsh his mickle monument. Raised on shepherds talkings, in moderate walkings, in divine expressions, in humane transgressions.

Author: Marsh, John, writer of verse.1645

[...]

The Countrey Shepherd that searce sees a Man

In six or seven dayes, but hills and dales,

For ought I know may know as much of Pan,

As he that sits composing hours tales.

Neither do I think all men castawayes that are not of my minde;

Nor will I think all damn'd that will not come

To worship at my Mountains; though I know

Each Molehill seems a Mountain unto some;

And every Cock will on his Mountain crow.

For neither on this Mountain, nor on that,

Nor yet on yonder Molehill, will I build

A Church upon; but onely on that flat

And lowest valley in my Grandsirs field:

And if Mr. Envy object anything, I will give no other answer but this: What I have written, I have written.

But there be some have gotten mighty skill

To hide the devil, though they never could

Endeavour to resist him with their will,

And to displace him durst not be so bold,

Because they think it is in vain to try:

They think he's strong, and so he is indeed;

No hold so strong to prove our misery,

As for to think we cannot quite be freed:

For if we think he's strong, and there's none stronger,

This very thought will prove our woes prolonger.

Let him alone, saith one, and let him dwell

In his fools paradise, he'l know no better:

For there be some have lived so long in Hell,

Think there's no place can yeild them comforts greater.

[Page 9]

Quere.

Proud Cobler do not suite beyond thy Last.
Who taught thee this? Art thou more wiser grown
Then all thy Teachers living gone and past,
Whose walkings true humility have shown?

Answer.

Truly I cannot think amisse of thee;

As for thy speech, I will not much contrary:

Let others think even what they list of me,

I will not much from this thy compasse vary:

If I should say contrary unto this,

My conscience then would give my tongue the lie,

And at this folly every Boy would hisse;

Yea, even the stones on which I walk would cry.

What shall we think of all our Fathers old,

Which now are dead, and gone, and in the Dust?

How shall we with presumption be so bold

To say, Their souls are perisht in their Rust;

Their hopes are lost, they lived in ignorance,

In Monasteriall buildings spent their times;

Whose superstitious pipings made them dance

All in a mist among the cloudy rimes?

I should be sorry for to speak or think

Amisse of any one that doth endeavour

To walk with God; for they and we do drink

All of one Cup; and why shall any sever

What God hath joyned? Our souls and theirs together

Shall meet in God, even in the Sea of love;

For God is love, 
respecting one and either:

His noble wayes all humble souls approve;

But lofty souls prefer their own good thinking

Before his noblewayes, and humble Stations,

[Page 10]

And scorn the Troughes appointed for Lambs drinkings,

And to the Wolvish nature have Relations.

God was a God, and is from age to age,

In infancy, in childhood, and in youth;

And he hath aged men that can presage,

And in all ages us'd them for his mouth.

He speaks to us, and we regard him not;

He passeth by, and we cannot perceive him;

His lively breathings we have soon forgot,

And with our breathings we would fain deceive him.

And how can we in conscience speak or think,

That our forefathers were but cast-awayes?

This bitter potion yet could never sink

Into my Brest; nor will I speak the praise

Of any one that vomits up his Gall

Against our Grandsires, honest-hearted men,

That built us goodly Churches, more then all;

Few will do now adayes as they did then:

They loved our Nation well that built us these;

And in contempt of scorn they set up Crosses,

And took no thought to please or to displease,

But underneath that Banner bore their losses.

To Shepherds, Heardsmen, and to them that use

The Threshers Flayl, he hath and doth appear;

Vine-dressers, Ploughmen, he did ne're refuse;

The Begger as the King, to him is neer:

Our times are in his hand, our barren dayes,

In which we think our selves too old to bear,

When Hairs grow white, and human strength decayes,

He to a flame the Widows coal shall rear.

Old Israel 
shall be his strength again,

And both their Bones in Canaan 
Land shall rest

Although in Egypt 
they as yet remain,

[Page 11]

And with Task-Masters mightily opprest;

Yet out of Egypt 
God hath call'd his Son:

Although 'tis good in youth to bear the yoke.

God hath his time, and when the Glasse is run,

The evil nature will in Jordan 
choke.

But now we talk as men, and bandy words,

As men throw Fire-bals with an intent

To burn up all; or with our fourbish'd Swords,

To cut down all opposers of content:

And right or wrong, we fight for victory,

When truth lieth low and trampled on with feet,

Our squint-eyed love is seen apparently

With onely How do ye? 
As the common greet.

This as a Porch for Introduction stands,

To entertain all comers of good will;

I passe not if some come with bloody hands,

Or with intent to murther or to kill:

Yet let them walk within my Porch a while,

And view what I've portray'd in every corner,

Such contemplations may produce a smile,

And may effect some goodnesse in a scorner;

The very pavements will declare and tell,

Love travels here and there; for she leaves signes,

Where ere she comes, her foot-steps are known well;

She her reproofs with sweetnesse enterlines;

But had you eyes to see within the vail,

Or could you draw the curtain, and behold

Love in her simple beauty, 'twould assail

And move your dry affections seven fold:

In the mean time walk here, and contemplate

A while of love; for strife grows out of date.

[Page 12]
But,
Reader, 
art thou a Reader? Then I write

To thee, that never tookst degree in Schools;

And be not angry if I do invite

Thee to a Feast, even to a Feast of Fools:

For Fools by nature, are, in my esteem,

To be preferr'd above the common sort

Of learned Knaves, whose gravity may seem

To passe along for honest men in sport:

But let them passe in sport: But when I saw

Some throwing Fire-Brands among the Thatch

Where poor Folks dwell, I did discern the Paw

And Cloven-footed Beast began to catch;

Then I began to view them Tooth and Nail,

Comparing Teeth with Teeth and Eies with Eies;

Then somewhat doubting lest my skill should fail,

My own experience fell to underprize:

Then fell to viewing of my Lambs again,

And over-view'd my Sheep, and well observing

How they their qualities do still retain,

And from their nature very seldom swerving:

Heed these like Lambs, quoth I, that come thus arm'd,

With Tooth and Nail to bite and to destroy?

For very few can passe by them unharm'd,

Or else deluded by some base decoy.

Tis well for us, and happy, may I say,

Are we that live in such a knowing age,

That we are able for to show the way

Unto our rumbling Shepherds, though they rage:

Yea, we have found, and have discern'd in part

A far more excellent and lovely way

Then ever yet was faund by humane Art,

Though they went seeking a whole Summers day:

[Page 13]

And now 'tis almost naturall to us

To know our Shepherds voice, from others pratings;

For no decoy can imitate him thus,

To follow to the death in imitatings.

Well then, I think it is no Heresie

To mingle souls with kisses, when we finde

Life-blood run through the Veins, and can espie

Nature rejoyce to elevate the minde.

For as the Face doth answer, when the Face

Makes signes to speak, and cannot chuse but speak,

And understands full well the secret trace

Of overcharged mindes that needs must break;

And when we see by nature every thing

is glad to see his likenesse, and desires

For to produce his likenesse, when the spring

And streams of love sends forth uncooling fires:

Even so 'tis in the lofty soaring soul

That-slees beyond the raging waves, and Sees,

A Bed of Roses where she means to roul

And will not stay in regions that do freeze:

And as the earth sends forth her rich increase,

And earthly mindes rejoyce in earthly things;

So multiplying souls will never cease,

Till they inclose eternity with wings.

Blush then, ye mortals, ah! Why will you die?

How can you live on these decaying pleasures?

Your life is hid, alas, you cannot spie

Nothing but emblems of some future treasures;

No substances, but shadows: Why d'ee you stand

Here all the day? Are you not hired yet?

Look yonder, Sirs, why don't yee see the hand

That points to working ere the Sun be set?

[Page 14]

Must all our time be spent in taking care,

In looking after Asses? Can you see

No further then the manger of your fare?

Will nothing with your poor conceits agree,

But Oxford 
Husks? Will words your bellies fill?

Or can you like Camelions 
live by ayr?

Will knowledge from the Eastern winde distill?

Or Eagles feed on fancies of dispair?

Eagles have eyes, and they can see afar;

And Moles have eyes, but undermine the earth:

But 'tis poor Musick, stops at every jar;

But humble souls nere want some holy mirth.

[Page 15]


Marsh his mickle Monument.
THe 
Shepherds Boy perceives the Winter gone,
And being loth to loose his precious time,
Looks out, and sees the lovely spring come on,
Joyfull to take the season in the prime,
Begs liberty of 
Pan for half a day,
To recreate him, with his fellow Swayns;
A place appointed for disport and play,
Where they right kindly each one entertain;
Whose countrey kindnesse, friendly complements,
Was, 
Welcome Tom, and 
John, and 
Ned, and 
Will,

Harry, and 
Phil, and 
Ralph, with fair intents,
Neer to a Wood, sate down beneath a Hill,
In Countrey-Gray, and Russet comely Weeds,
With Sheep-Hooks in their hands, engraven fine,
And at their Girdles stuck their Oaten Reeds,
And every one a bush of 
Eglantine,
Under a spreading Tree made Arbour wise;
Nature and Art did sympathize together
To keep out 
Sol; yet 
Sol did wayes devise,
And with his rayes did force a passage thither:
But mark how soon the Milk-maids misse their mates,
Their loving Mates are gone to merry making,
With watry Eyes 
Sicely, and 
Doll relates.
Their sorrows, and of sorrows each partaking;
Fair 
Isabel and 
Dinah range the field,
Where they might see the frisking Lambs at play;
The Shepherdesses at the last beheld
Them as some strangers who had lost their way,
Saying, Ho come hither, for we know your mindes;
We know you seek the Shepherds Lads; Ile tell

[Page 16]
You where to finde them; for ye are our friends
And fellow-servants, and we love you well;
Tis our desire you run to 
Sisse and 
Doll,
And bid them bring their Cates, the best they can,
And weel be ready, or within a call,
For to accommodate you. Then they ran
And brought the news: The Milkmaids they provide
Their Curds and Cream, Fresh-Cheese, and other chear,
Custands and Cheese-Cakes of the best beside,
A Pasted wall well fill'd with good red Deer;
They quickly dresse themselves in Milk-white sleeves,
Kercheifs, and Aprons, Hand-Cuffes Lac'd and Purl'd,
And without asking fairly took their leaves,
As if intending for another world;
Like nimble Does, they trace the flowery plains;
The Shepherdesses met them on the Green,
And making haste, for want of time complains,
Lest over-late they should in love be seen;
As if compos'd of love, and overjoy'd
To see their Mates, came rudely rushing in:
The Shepherds were with better mirth imploy'd;
Yet to comply, at least they do begin,
Welcome, sweet friends, kinde 
Dorothy and 
Sisse,
And 
Isabella fair, and all the rest,
You Shepherdesses help to work our blisse,
As by your coming have right well exprest;
Come, sit you down, and weel pertake with you
Of your choice dainties, sith it is your will;
And what is ours we freely will bestow,
And for our friendship you may claim itstill.
The Maidens they present their dishes fine,
Rudely, yet sweetly; for it was their love;
On natures Carpet, saying, Come and dine,
Our true affections did this voyage move
To come and seek you: Now we know your haunt,
Weel visit you sometimes, against your will
Theres something sure in you that doth enchant,
That made us follow you unto this Hill,

[Page 17]
Each Shepherd had his Bottle by his side,
Full of good Liquor, some of every sort,
Cider and Perry, Beer well Clarified,
And Bottle-Ale, that gave a good report,
Wine, and Metheaglin of the British making;
Excesse consists not in variety;
The sober usage sets no heads on aking;
For there was 
Nectar alwayes standing by.
When all were set in order in the place,
One of the Shepherds Lads, they call'd him 
Harry,
A sober youth, stept up, and he said Grace,
And with much gravity himself did carry.
The GRACE.

THou All in all, 
thou onely God of Love,

That in all Creatures every where dost move:

Thou God of life, and of immortall Being,

Thou onely Seer, come, and help our seeing:

Sweetnesse it self, yet flowing to each creature,

Making partakers of thy lovely nature,

Enflame our mindes, now we are come together,

And with thy breathing, bid us welcome hither;

That we may see thee in these outward things,

And elevated with immortall Wings,

May flie beyond our selfnesse, and forget

That arm of Flesh that doth support us yet,

And come and view thee at a higher Table,

And feeding on these breakings may be able

In thine own language for to talk of thee,

And in thy noble wayes to walk with thee:

Refresh our spirits with thy living food,

And with thy wisedom, our eternall good;

That we thy goodnesse and thy sweetnesse may

Declare in this our everlasting day.
Friends, now you see your chear; fall to, I pray,
And let's be merry; we are servants all

[Page 18]
To mighty 
Pan; he's able to defray
Far greater charge, and will, when time doth fall;
For he hath flocks upon a thousand Hills;
And on the plains hath Herds of Cattell store;
His Corn and Wine each Grange and Village fills,
He's alwayes giving, yet is never poor;
And at noon times when we are at repast,
He walks among us kindly in the Hall,
And bids us eat, and drink, and make no waste;
Be cheerfull, friends, for ye are welcome all.
We have a day, another day in chase,
Wherein weel bid our Neighbours Swayns to bring
The Lasses of the Plaines, who with sweet 
Grace
Can play upon the Violet and sing:
And there's a Damsell I have heard some tell,
Can play upon the Lute exactly, and can raise
The minde of all the hearers with a spell
Which to the soul another soul conveyes:
This I have heard, and I beleeve in part,
That Aiery notes do steal away the sence,
And secretly conveyes another heart,
Who in admiring of some excellence,
Soars up aloft, fill'd with extream desire,
To reach up to the center still doth hover,
And fain would close; draws neer, and would draw nigher,
Till with eternity all covered over:
Forget
 [...]ing things below, is well content
To presse unto the mark, that mighty prize;
And swallowed up in life and ravishment,
Drown'd with delight. looks up with fixed eyes
Unto the Hills, not daring to look down
Upon the empty pleasures that do bring
Fears, losses, and amazements leaden Crown,
Whose best adorning is the Serpents sting:
Such Musick I have oft desired to hear,
Though I disdain not for to hear a Song,
Even of the meanest Swayn, if he doth steer
His course the lowly vallies all along.

[Page 19]
In the mean time Ile drink to honest 
Sisse,
To 
Dorothy and 
Isabella kinde,
I should be sorry any here to misse;
And to the Shepherdesses there behinde;
You sit as if you had no skill in love,
Or if faint-hearted, do digresse from kinde;
We 
 [...]hepherds are disposed for to rove
With random words sometimes, to shew our minde:
Think not our mindes are altogether vain,
And full of folly, cause we let our tongues
To speak to you like men; or entertain
A minde to work your prejudice or wrongs:
Yet know, that we are men, and love like men;
We eat, and drink, and sleep, like other creatures;
For you to love, and we not love agen,
Were altogether to forget our natures:
We live like men, and we do love our like;
Like in affection is the strongest tie;
Who that denies, at natures Law doth strike;
For like rejoyceth when his like stands by:
This is in 
Pan our noble Master, who
Is much delighted when he doth behold
Fair Innocency ranging to and fro
Amongst the Lambs and Kidlings of our fold:
The greatest Joy he doth and can expresse,
Is to behold his flocks and heards to flourish:
But when he doth behold them in distresse,
He blames the Shepherds, that are slack to nourish
The tender Lambs committed to their charge,
Who at their will may lead them where they list,
But are contented they should run at large,
Which if they would but whistle with their fist,
Or if loves eccho's were but sometimes heard,
To peirce the Hils and Vallies where they wander,
A check of love would make them so afear'd,
Twere needlesse for a dog to be commander:
And if a Shepherd shall for vertues cause
Despise his fellow, then me thinks I see

[Page 20]
A Devill thats incarnate; for his Claws
And cloven Feet are manifest to me,
Oh then, my soul, take heed thou come not there,
Where such ill spirits haunt; for where they dance,
The circle of their foul enchants appear,
And of 
Pans nature shew their ignorance:
Into their secrets let not my soul come;
Avaunt, you Gipsies, fickle fortune tellers,
Go dance the round where you finde better roome,
In younder Meadow with the fairy dwellers,
Where Screetch-Owls and the dismall Satyres haunt,
Inventing mischief foul; malignant spirits,
Croaking ill luck, like Envies blast, that daunt,
Where male-contents infernall dales inherits:
Though we are men, and live and die as men;
Yet we have thoughts that slee beyond the sphears,
Transcendent thoughts, that knows both where and when
To flee away, beyond the common fears,
When in a hubbub all the world appears,
And the foundations fail, and mountains tremble,
As if the Clouds would fall about their ears;
Our spirits then we presently assemble
For they have wings to bear us to a place
Beyond the raging waves, wherewith a song
Of exultation, misty clouds do chace
Away those vapours that our sight doth wrong.
Will.
Stay Brother, stay, you go beyond your bounds;
You speak to men and women that do carry
More flesh then spirit; such high things confounds
The memory of weaklings; lets not vary;
Speak in our Language, for we understand
Our mother tongue, with that we travell far;
Lets not forget that we have flocks at hand,
And too rich Pasture may our Kidlings mar:
We know thou art and hast bin long in love,
And ere't be long we trust thou shal't obtain
Thy strong desire, and we do well approve,
And hope thy longing will not be in vain;

[Page 21]Thy sweet affections can no way miscarry:
Thou art but young, take heed, soar not too high;
But stay with us a while, good honest 
Harry,
And in a lower stile thy measures try;
Come, sing a song, and we will bear a part
In joy and sorrow, and we will expresse
Our best affections; and each loving heart,
I dare be bold to say, doth think no lesse.
Harry.
Then tune your Pipes (sweet friends) and Ile begin,
And set your strings unto a lowly strain;
Yea, all of you that in Loves bands have bin,
And bear a part with me, a rurall Swayn:
For now I sing of Love, but I want words
For to expresse the things my minde affords.
The Argument of the Song.

THe longing soul stirs up her holy fires,

And in a Song sends forth her strong-desires

To her most dear and best beloved Christ,

Whose sweet society she long hath miss't.

The Song.O 
Thou the fairest, fair without compare,

Whose kinde embraces passing pleasing are,

Whose unctions sweet, from head to feet,

Oredows thy comely parts,

Eustaming mindes, and making joyfull hearts;

And for the sent of odours spent,

And rare composed smell,

The fairest Virgins love thee passing well.

Vouchsafe to cover these black spots of mine;

With these same white and spotlesse robes of thine,

And then though I deformed lie,

And black; I shall appear

A comely Virgin in thine eye, and dear.

Sore sick of love, unapt to move;

Oh let thy gentle hand

Reach forth thy comforts, or I cannot stand.

Oh when wilt thou transport me to that place,

Where no disturbance shall prevent thy grace;

Where fill of love oreflowings prove?

That we may there injoy,

In that sweet bed of love, without annoy:

For when I minde thy kisses kinde,

When first in love we fell,

That now me thinks thy absence proves a Hell.

If thou defire to see me yet alive,

Make haste, and see how I for breath do strive:

Oh come away, make no delay,

And sow thy precious seed;

For nothing else our sweet delight will breed:

Big swoln with grief, there's no relief

Can wipe my weepings dry:

Oh come, and give me children else I die.

[Page 22]

For unto me thou art more lovely far,

Then any beauties to my senses are:

And wheresoere thy shinings are,

And thy image I espie,

Me thinke it is 
 [...] to mine eye:


 [...]


 [...]

Yea then, even then, would I take part with thee.

For though, 
 [...], I have inforced bin

To yeeld unto that 
 [...] betraying sin,


 [...] field from friends exil'd

When, I 
 [...] alone,


 [...] came none;


 [...] safety most,

Al
 [...] poor 
 [...] I sude

Strong 
 [...] and shares, that hands and jeet do binde.

If I have 
 [...] on ary wight,

Or ought 
 [...] my chief 
 [...]light,

Siace first that 
 [...] did wound my heart,

That none but thee can 
 [...]re;

Then in 
 [...] let me still indure:

Yea, let me 
 [...]e exil'd from thee,

And never see thy face,

If in my heart thou misse the chiefest place.

And yet methinks I wish my self no harms,

Were I in Hell inclused in thine Arms;

Lesse cause of fear, more comforts there,

Then in Heavens flying fame;

For they might passe, but thou art still the same,

These empty things have flying wings,

The soaring soul flees higher;

Thou art the center of her chief defire.

For yesternight, when I was half a sleep,

Me thought I saw thee walking on the deep,

Whose comely feet, the waves did greet

With friendly threatnings kinde;

Thy steps a deep impression left behinde:

The raging waves, that erst while raves,

When thou in love dost chide,

With trembling silence thy rebukes abide.

If it be thee, Lord, bid me come apace:

I know 'tis thee, thy words oreflow with grace;

Then, sink or swim, Ile go to him,

A sea of love I see:

If I be drown'd, I care not, Ile to thee.

Oh 'tis my choice, 'tis Davids 
voice;

My soul is knit to thine:

A strangers voice was never so divine.

Prove me, my dear, and try if thou canst finde

If my affections be not to thy minde:

If I withstand, thy sweet command,

Then let me bear the blame,

And in thy love put me to publike shame:

Or if 'tis meet, first shew the shect

Where Virgin thoughts did lie,

And thou shalt see the signe of chastity.
Ralph.
Dost thou want words, sweet friend? Why now I see
Thou canst comply as well as any man:
Dost think equivocation may passe free,
And be well taken? We thy words can scan:
Say what thou wilt, we know thee: If thou hide
Thy self within a Wood, weel thee descry;
Though in a Grove of Woods thou wouldst abide,
Yet we will trace thee in a Sympathy,
And we can walk with thee within thy cloud,
Whose Pearl-like dew drops words of sweet desire.

[Page 23]My genius tells me, sure thou art not proud,
Although thy humble breathings do aspire
To speak in lofty words; yet we professe
Though thou comply, we love thee nere the lesse.
Harry.
Tis true indeed and I acknowledge it,
I do comply, and so I think I may;
And I account it manners, and 'tis fit,
In friendly terms to grant and to gainsay:
But he whose friendship is but complement,
And onely complementall, I count base;
That course is quite without my element,
From me such thoughts I quite away do chase:
I love my friend that is my friend indeed,
And he shall know my inmost secrecies;
The choicest Cates on which my soul doth feed,
That doth support me in my miseries,
I will not spare, but freely will impart
The treasure of my soul, and where 'tis hid,
The wants and the aboundings of my heart,
My faults for which I have bin soundly chid;
My hopes, and fears, my joyes and discontents,
My nakednesse, my shame; I will discover
My vildnesse, and the joyfull ornaments,
I will not hide from thee, my friend, my lover.
Will.
Thanks, 
Harry, we have born our parts with thee,
But thou hast born the burden of thy Song;
I would thy soul from anguish were as free
As I could wish: I trust thou shalt ere long
Receive thy hearts desire; but stay a while,
With patience wait; but prethee set no time;
The Pilgrims chat doth longsome way beguile,
And loves transgressions none doth count a crime.
Onely beware of this, do not reveal
Loves secrets on thy life, as yesterday
A friend of ours; but stay, I will conceal
His name, for fear he run the more astray:
For on a day, and 'tis not long ago,
I heard him tune an Oaten-pipe so well,

[Page 24]That if I should account him for a foe,
And should his folly to the Milk-maids tell,
He would forget his musi
 [...]k, and neglect
His little flock committed to his charge,
And with a neer conceit of disrespect,
Despair, the bounds of folly would enlarge.
John.
No, Brother, stay, be silent for a while,
We have a rule that's left by noble 
Pan,
A principle that hangs upon the file,
That's legible to read for every man;
And for memoriall stands upon record.
Let all your things, sweet friends, be done in love;
You are my friends, and I can well afford:
My name which all your Shepherds well approve,
Shall be impos'd upon you; My commands
Are far from being grievous unto those
Whose sweet affections well inclined stands,
And I no other burden do impose.
Loves yoak is casie and the burthen light,
Sweet is the yoak, no bitternesse at all,
No slavish fearfull toyl that doth affright;
Therein's no danger for to stand or fall.
Ralph.
Now we perceive right well the very cause
Thou lov'st to sit alone upon these Hills,
Not with intent to nullifie the Laws
And liberty of Shepherds with thy will;
For all the liberty that we injoy,
Consists in this, if Love but once command,
We are content and willing to obey
No Shepherd on these Downs will it withstand.
If any Shepherds Lad presume to break
The Law of Love of purpose, and shall tell
Her secrecies, and shall account them weak
They such a one will presently expell;
To their society he shall not come;
The very Milk-maids will begin to hisse,
Yea, such a fellow shall not have a crum
Of any dainties, no not of a kisse:

[Page 25]His Curds and Cream that he was wont to have
At noon times in the Dairey, when the heat
Of Summer made him kindnesse for to crave,
Though much he needed not for to intreat;
He with the Hindes shall stand and cool his feet,
Beg for a favour, and receive a flout.
The poorest Kitchin-maid that he doth meet,
When time shall serve, will make him stand without.
And is not he well serv'd, that shall disclose
The secrets of his friend, to do him harm,
When his chief trust he doth in him repose,
With many friendly walkings arm in arm?
When promises of constant loving hearts,
Viewing wherein his strength and weaknesse lies,
Against the very course of Love imparts
To friend and foe his inmost secrecies?
Now, honest 
William, do not hold us long,
But prethee tell the subject of this Song.
Will.
Well, then in sober sadnesse I will tell
The subject of his Song, though I may misse
For to expresse the words he fram'd so well;
But, to my best remembrance, it was this.

The SONG.
COme, you sweet affections all

View the place of Pan
's abiding,

And you Shepherds great and small,

Bring your stocks to his residing:

Shepherdesses of the Plains

Bring your instruments well stringed;

You whose Virgin brests retains

Darts that flew from Heaven winged.

Noble hearts, of Heavens choice,

Bring your flames of sacred firing;

You that can expresse by voice,

Raptures of divine inspiring;

Bring your Lutes, and let us hear,

And we will your measures follow;

Weel the burden help to hear,

By the guidance of Apollo.

Hand in hand, and heart in heart,

We will tread our pacing measures;

Like affections none can part,

Twinning arms, nere-ending pleasures:

Those whom Heavens hand hath joyn'd,

Who will dare to put a sunder?

Can Heavens darlings be unkinde?

That would be a mighty wonder.

Natures bounds who can forget?

Tis Pan
's nature to be loving;

He the waves their bounds hath set,

Their presumption still reproving:

But Pan
's nature overflows

Lofty Hills, and brings them under;

In the Sea they stand in Rowes

Mollifi'd and rent in sunder.

[Page 26]

In his name we will rejoyce,

In his nature we will wander;

Through the desarts are our choice,

Where compell'd by no Commander:

We can no commands they,

Though they 
 [...] with strong perswading;

Nature taught as to gainsay

And 
 [...] the wills ineading.

But methinks Thear a voice

From the 
 [...] of safe assuring,

Who in safety do 
 [...]

Yet in bonds themselves inuring:

But another veice rass'd by,

Freely 
 [...] in my hearing,

He, come forth, my Dove, and bie

Thee to a place of better cheering.

New the 
 [...] Winter's past,

Ha
 [...], and Snow, and Weather beatings,


 [...] Sol 
away hath chast,

Though with sweet and fair intreatings;

Shadows 
 [...], and get you hence,

Come 
 [...]o more to hurt our seeing;

To thy nothingnesse, from whence

Thou dericest all thy being.

Now the lovely Spring is come,

And each Bird in safety singeth,

Counting every place their home,

Where their Airy-wings them bringeth.

Sweet affections they flee high,

Far above all dying, being,

Almost to eternity,

From the hands o
 [...] Fowlers freeing.

Yesternight T
 [...]past alone,

By the light of Luna
's shining,

Purposely to hear a Song,

I perceived the friendly twining

Of the Trees and Bushes kinde,

Who most friendly kiss't each other;

Arm i
 [...] Arm their Branches twin'd,

Like the childe that hugs the mother,

Passing further by a Dale,

Full of thoughts and sweet conceivings,

There I heard a Nightingale,

Whose sweet mirth was sense bereavings:

Oh, thought I, if Songs of night

Be so joyfull in our hearing;

Ravi
 [...]ments of greater might

Will be seen at Sun's appearing;

Now the gladsome Sun doth rise,

And the Earth in her best dressing;

And each Bird doth memorize,
Pan
's great acts, and might expressing,

How he hath destroyed quite

Welves, and Foxes, Bears, and Lions,

And deliver'd by his might,

The distressed Lambs of Sion
's.

Now rejoyce, thou little Hill,

Little in thine estimation;

Thou shalt be beloved still,

And a Crown of exaltation

Shall be given unto thee,

Who art Pan
's delight and pleasure;

Thou, ab thou, art onely she

Ʋnto whom he brings his treasure.

All his living Springs abide

In thy Brest, thou Queen of Nations;

And from thee they do divide

Into streams, whose elevations

Soon descending to the plains,

Where each Shepherds Boy resorteth,

Which their thirsty soul sustains,

Where our Lambs and Kidlings sporteth.

Yet I heard, not long ago,

Shrew'd reports of Shepherds striving

For a Well whose springs did flow

With sweet streams of soul reviving;

The contention grew so hot,

Almost unto Daggers drawing;

But the anger was forget,

By Pan
's wisedom over-awing.

[Page 27]

We are called by thy name,

Oh thou mighty Pan, 
whose dwelling

Is beyond the common fame,

All our Shepherds far excelling:

For from thee they do derive

All their wisedom how to order,

And their tender flocks to drive,

Till they come to Canaan
's border.

Like an Oyntment powred forth,

Whose sweet sent enflames the senses,

Or
 [...]n
 [...] o
 [...]our of great worth,

Purchased with great expences;

Right so precious for to hear,

Is thy name, and sweetly soundeth;

And from Hills and Dales do rear

Ecchoes that thy fame resoundeth?

Every Shepherds Boy that walks

All along these Downs and Mountains,

Of his bounty alway talks:

T'other day by yonder Fountains,

Sate each lovely Shepherdesse

Singing Songs, and Musick playing,

Each one in her Virgins dresse,

With Love's ornaments arraying.
These were the words, but I will tell you more:
Upon a day when all alone he sate
Under a Hill, upon his head he wore
A kinde of Wreath, well wrought, and delicate,
With dainty Flowers, that well I cannot name;
As Roses, Violets, Hearts-ease, Columbines,
The tender Lilly, Tulips of great fame,
Wall-Flowers, and Honey-Suckles, that entwines;
Sweet-Marjoram, and Sweet-Bryer, Cowslips, Marigolds,
Primroses, pretty Dazies, Jilly-Flowers,
The Hollyoak in doubles manifolds,
And many more, brought in by 
April showers,
There wanted nothing but the Lawrell-Bay;
Me thought it did become the Lad so well,
That in affection I am bold to say,
Most Lads upon these Downs he did excell.
But to be brief, I crept upon all four,
And secretly, unseen, I came so neer him;
'Twas ten to one I came in such an hour,
When he began to sing, to over-hear him,
Upon his Pipe he played and sweetly sing:
I hearkned to his tunes with great delight:
Then in a rage his Pipe away he flung:
Yet all this while I kept me from his sight.
All this I speak, that so I might remove
The prejudice that I perceive remains

[Page 28]
Within your Brests, the dwelling place of love,
Who with delight 
Pan's precepts entertains:
For we are servants unto noble 
Pan,
And have and do observe his nature well,
His no
 [...]le kindnesse unto every man,
With love he useth onely to compell:
This is his nature, and it is no shame
To imitate his nature with desire;
Not onely to be called by his name,
But to a further neernesse to aspire;
Not onely for to love his likenesse sweet,
When with delight we view those gladsome beams;
But with his nature one another greet,
And from that nature send forth lovely streams,
As streams of mercy, and of suffering long,
Patient in waiting, seeking every hour
To win with love, without compulsion strong,
And without fury hear what others say.
And now, sweet friends, you that desire to hear
The matter of his Song, I pray draw neer.

The SONG.
Come neer affections,

And help with thy directions,

To sing this Song of love;

And we together,

Will take a part of either,

The same more light will prove:

For now dismay'd I sit, and make my moan,

And I am searfull

It will prove direfull,

A burden heavy for to bear alone:

Twill break my heart, I think, that thou bear none.

And now I wonder

To hear some speak like Thunder,

Love's darlings for to awe,

And to affright them,

As if they would endite them,

And give Love's bounds a Law:

Love, that so deep and past their ouring wounds:

But love is boundlesse,

Her Law is groundlesse:

Love cannot be contain'd in humane bounds,

Nor will we yeeld to them on such small grounds.

For though we languish,

And live a while in anguish,

We know Love shall prevail;

Love's sweet conceivings

Are no abortive heavings,

Our mindes for to assail:

No pleasant baits can us allure agen:

For we are carried,

Our mindes are married

To things above the common reach of men:

Oh Arm of Flesh, how weak wilt thou he then!

[Page 29]

But yet we wander,

Ʋnseen of each by-stander,

In uncouth wayes;

These desert places,

W
 [...]hardly ken the traces

Of sheep that strayes:

We wander up and down, and passe the springs,

And see no creature

Of form and feature,

That we can love as these despised things;

And we well know that same hath flying wings.

But obthe dearest,

In my affection nearest;

My heart deth sail to tell,

How I have loved,

Since first my minde approved

The vertue that doth dwell

Within that brest that swells with things divine;

From whose out-flowings,

These tender growings

Refresh the sense, as with inspiring Wine,

And in these rayes the deity doth shine.

I heard one talking,

As I alone was walking

On yonder lovely Plain,

With words of scorning,

Rich minder, but poor adorning,

Love's honour for to stain:

But I will hold it for a point of faith,

The worst transgressions,

In Love's expressions,

The Law of Love, which is as strong as death,

Commands to hide, as long as there is breath.

Ile stay and rest me,

Thy sweetnesse hath possest me,

And I have faith in this;

Thou wilt not fail me,

Though long delayes may quail me,

And I much joy may misse:

The thirsty soul, alas, brooks no delay;

And time comes flying,

There's no denying,

There's no intreats will make him for to stay:

Bald time farewell, for ever and a day.

My minde reposes,

As on a bed of Roses,

Although sometimes I finde

Some contradiction,

Which may prove but a fiction

For to oresway my minde:

But when I overlook those lovely Hills

With heart uprising,

And highly prizing

That influence that Hills and Vallies fills,

Right sweetly then my swaying passion stills.
Friends, now you see the noblenesse of love,
That consters all things to the better part,
And is content and willing to remove
All blocks and rubs that sweet affection thwart;
Malignant nature, and revengefull spleen
Sends quite a swimming in the ragefull waves
Of black confusion never to be seen,
To blast our good intentions with their braves;
But there's a friend that keeps by yonder Plains,
That drives his flock so neer the Hazlewoods,
That to my knowledge mighty losse sustains;
And very lately I have understood

[Page 30]
By some of his acquaintance, not unknown
To some of us here present, that his losse
Is extraordinary, that he is grown
Unto a melancholly humour, and so crosse,
That he will scarce admit society
With any friends that come in loving sort
For to advise, but saith they come to spie,
That so they may his weaknesses report:
But I dare say, not any one that's here
Can take delight to view his moody fits,
But as a matter that concerns them neer;
Abhors the seat where Scorn and Envy sits;
For we were alwayes better taught I'm sure,
And see our Master's practise every day:
A noble president he gives for to inure,
Nature compels our wills for to obey.

Oh Sacred streams of Heavens influence

Divine inspiring, How can we forget

The spring of thy divine intelligence,

That every day our barren soyl doth wet,

And makes our coast of desert places spring

With various sweets, and flowers of the prime?

Forsaken and despised Valleys sing

With rich abounding plenty in our clime,

By the still waters glyding through the Plains;

Contentedly we sit and spend our hours,

Wherewith supply of Pastures green sustains,

And every day refresh with dews and showers

The heritage of thrice adored Pan,

Which makes them bring forth twins when they do come

From Washing: Where the streams of love began,

The time of love a rich increase sends home.
But stay a while, I purpose to relate
The matter of his losse whereof I spake,
That so we may his case commiserate,
And sympathizing his, our sorrows make;
He shall be namelesse at this time, least I
Should add unto his sorrows; for I swear

[Page 31]
I would not do him the least injury,
Though I might gain the fleece his flock doth wear:
But to be brief, our Master set him forth
With Sheep-hook in his hand, and with a flock
Of Kids and Lambs, that were of mighty worth,
Which after he had led beyond the Rock
That stands beneath that high aspiring Hill,
Which you may view with your perspective Glasse,
A mighty Wood the upland grounds doth fill,
And by that Wood he every day did passe:
In handsome order for a while he kept
His pretty Lambs, and fed them with great care;
But so it was, one afternoon he slept,
Out comes a Woolf, and too and fro did stare;
But when he saw no creature to resist
His hungry madnesse, he began to catch
At Kids and Lambs, but by good hap he miss't
The principall, yet other two did snatch,
And worried them, and kill'd, and suckt their blood,
And drew them to the Wood that was so nigh;
The flock the while without resistance stood
Amazed, yet did neither bleat nor cry.
But yet, thus much I dare be bold to say,
Had he but bin awak't, and bin aware,
He would have fought, and made a bloody fray;
For two or three of them he would not care:
But so it was, the young man he began
To rouze himself, and looking all about,
He saw his flock were fled, and then he ran
To bring them in again, and made no doubt
Of any losse, because he saw so many
That did present themselves unto his view,
Thought all was well, yet neither there was any
Appearance; whereupon he fearlesse grew:
Well, that pass'd on, and then it was not long,
But there befell another losse was worse;
For on a day when he was gone among
The western Lads, as 'twas sometimes his course,

[Page 32]
To go a merry making, and to leave
Hisslock along the Hedge-rows safely feeding,
At least he thought them safe, nor did conceive
The least suspect of such like danger breeding:
When he was gone out of the Wood, there comes
A fell devouring Beast, a furious Bore,
His Tusks stood out, and at the mouth he fomes,
And running on, some half a dozen tore;
And of the Lambs made such a heavy wrack,
That 't was a wonder to behold the spoil,
How he their flesh did tear, and bones did crack;
But having fill'd his paunch, did back recoyl.
The flocks were all disperst among the Bryars,
Who fled for Shelter to the Thorny Hedge;
At last runs forth a Bear, and quickly tires,
And worried half a score, and took their pledge;
But all this while the Shepherd did forget
His flock, that in dispair ran to and fro;
But he amongst his boon companions set
His resolution, yet he would not go.

Ah silly Lambs, resistlesse in your harms,

Wasted and spoyl'd, yet shew no discontent:

Spoyl'd of all, yet nere assuming arms,

Can you subsist in this your element?

Content to live, contented for to die,

Content in wants, contented to enjoy

A greater store, content in misery:

Is this your nature never to be coy?

Wonder in nature, nature without art,

Infused nature, far beyond all teaching;

No creature else this nature can impart;

'Tis Foxes nature to be still ont-reaching:

The furious Lion, Lions doth beget,

And some men say their strength lieth in their eyes;

What ere he seeth; he's bold thereon to set;

On noble things he dares to make a prize:

The raving Woolf hath alwayes Woolvish tricks;

He hath a voice, and by that voice doth call

[Page 33]

Ʋnto his fellows, which their ears up pricks,

And other creatures quickly bring in thrall:

Where Woolfs prevail, no mercy is expected;

It is their nature, and who ever saw

Them change their nature, or could be corrected,

To bring them in subjection to a law?

The Bear begets his like, the she doth bring

Forth a rude lump that's quite without a form;

She licks it over till a formall thing

Appears in sight, then furiously doth storm;

If any one presume to touch her young,

And rob her of her whelps she loves most dearly,

Shall quickly know sheel put up no such wrong;

Sheel follow to the quick, and touch them nearly.

Boars beget Boars, and Swine have filthy natures,

And have their sustenance from filthy things;

And of their like they do produce more creatures,

No Beast but that, so many young ones brings:

Wash'd nere so clear, they'l wallow in the mire;

Drink till th y'r drunk, and sometimes burst withall:

When Horses drink, they'l modestly retire;

No other creature we may Swinish call.
But this digression helps not my intent;
The Shepherd he looks out, and sees his flock,
Some lost, some spoil'd, some torn, and deadly rent;
Then presently he ran into the Rock,
With an intent to cast himself away,
Down to the depth, almost as low as Hell:
But so it fell, the Rock did prove his stay,
And in amaz upon the Rock he fell;
And lying in dispair, half on, half over,
At last came to himself, and look't about him,
And sees the Rook, and doth the deep discover,
All danger sees, within him and without him,
Lifts up his eyes unto the bending Hills,
Half dead and lost, ashamed of his hope,
His former vain and spacious hopes distills,
And brings their spirits to a narrow scope.

[Page 34]

Ah, whither shall I flee, for to escape

The hand of Pan 
my master; if I fall

Down to the deep, there I may see his shape;

Were I in Holl I'de hearken to his call.

Ah, I have often heard his lovely voice,

How he perswades with sweetnesse every day;

Leaves all men free, and puts them to their choice,

To yeeld him free obedience, or gainsay:

He nere provokes to anger any one,

Nor doth discourage those he entertains

Into his service: Those that will be gon
 [...],

And will not serve, they the most losse sustains.
And after many sad complaints were spent,
He was resolved to return to 
Pan;
But I beleeve, right sure, the 
 [...]ad was shent,
For t'other day, I met him pale and wan;
And then because I saw him discontented,
I sung this Song, that I before invented.

The SONG.
WEll met my friend, me thinks I long to hear,

How it hath far'd with thee, this many a yeer;

Why art thou strange to him, that is thy friend,

And turn'd about with every blast of winde?

Me thinks thou look'st with sorrow in thy face;

And I would joy, if that might purchase grace:

But if thy grief from outward objects spring,

Then 'tis my woe, to hear so harsh a thing.

For there's no cure to ease thee of thy pain,

No outward Pillars can thy soul sustain;

Thy soul's divine, and 'tis no common hand

That can support thee in this forrain Land.

Return, return, and lay these words to heart,

Let not self love over-sway thy noble part:

What wouldst thou have, or what canst thou require?

With humble words subscribe thy hearts desire.

[Page 35]

Is there no soul to sympathize with thine?

Why in thy brest dost thou thy grief confine,

Quite from thy friends, as if they were thine own,

And none but thine, unfit for to be known?

Know, thou hast friends, and they are friends indeed,

That's prest to help, at every time of need,

That stands unmov'd, though storms of grief arise,

And as their own accounts thy miseries.

'Tis not a blast of misconceived wrong,

Nor evill nature of a venom'd tongue;

Malignant words, nor slie deln ling charms,

Cannot unloose their friendly twining arms.

Huge floods of Water cannot quench this fire;

Showers of contentious strivings may conspire,

But over past revivings, are soon seen;

Rainbows appear that's blew, that's red, and green:

A sacred signe that Heavens rage is past,

He takes no pleasure, for to spoil and w
 [...]st:

Dispairing soul look up, the skie is clear,

The flouds are past, the Olive boughs appear.

Art thou a stranger onely on our coast,

And dost not know of that which men talk most?

Dost thou not know, the soul must passe the fire,

And then attain the end of her desire?

The Husbandman that sows his precious seed,

With patient waiting is full well agreed

To stay his time, and sleeps, and wakes, and sees

His crop comes for ward daily by degrees.

Fair Innocence desires not to be hid;

The crafty minde is fearfull to be chid

No cloak of zeal for covering she doth strive;

Fair Innocence on every ground will thrive.

No barren soyl seems barren in her eye.

That which most seers carclesly cast by.

[Page 36]

Ʋnfruitfull fields, with Bryers overgrowe:

In her esteem are firtest to be sown.

Things quite despised in the worlds esteem;

Things l
 [...]sse then nothing to the Senses seem:

But that men see, they see with their own eyes;

But Heaven discerns their foolish fallacies.

And shall we think our waiting over-long,

And that Heavens hand ore-sways things to our wrong

Oh, no dear soul, thou shalt ere long receive

Refreshings sweet; let vapours take their leave.

Dost thou not know that Fortunes fickle wheel,

With foolish favours to and fro doth reel:

Bears some aloft on wings of flying fame,

And on a trice their glory turns to shame?

Even so it is with every thing below,

That's underneath the Suns fair shining show;

His peircing rayes gives light to every plant;

But growing low, their vigour quickly want.

The Marygold sends forth its spreading flower,

Whilest lovely Sun displayes his quickning power;

But having run his circuit to the West,

Their Curtains close, and sadly take their rest.

The sweetest flowers in May, 
and joyfull June,

When every Bird chants forth some pretty tune:

I think 'tis pity such sweet flowers should die,

And pretty Birds should cease their melody.

When I perseive the gladsome spring come on,

And chilling cold of Winter blasts are gone;

And Earth is cloathed in her best array,

As if intending to keep Holiday:

Oh then I look, and weigh with heavy chear,

What changes come to passe within a yeer:

In little time the flowery fields grow gray;

When gray turns white, expect not long to stay.

[Page 37]

Cease pretty Birds, forgo your sugred notes;

The pleasant Hills and Vallies change their coats;

The dainty flowers gain'd with great expence,

Are stinking ripe, and fouly mar the sense.

The fairest beauty ever mortall saw,

Who like the Loadstone, humane eyes doth draw;

When living breath doth cease, she is laid by,

And is no more an object to the eye.

Ah dying glory, now I see thy face;

The time, the persons, and the lovely place:

I see, I see thou livest amongst the graves,

And times best champions are but golden slaves.

As little Riv'lets run from every Spring,

And to the River all their treasure bring;

Then all in one, runs freely to the main,

And from the Ocean nere returns again.

The mother Earth is ready to embrace,

And entertainment gives to all her race:

She huggs her children sweetly in her Arms,

With mutuall kisses, fearlesse of all harms.
Tom.
Well fare thy heart, my friend, and friend to all,
And foe to none, me thinks I do admire
This charity that comes at every call,
And from distressed friends didst nere retire.
Thou art so like our noble master, who
With patience bears, and waits for our return;
And in our wandring, wheresoever go,
And almost lost; is sad when we do mourn.
And now I wonder thou canst imitate
So well our masters goodnesse, and art changed
Into his likenesse: Thou that wast of late
Quite from the wayes of 
Pan almost estranged▪
Now I perswade my self, thy flook and thee
Have kept so long upon these flowery plains,

[Page 38]That thou some vision manifest didst see,
Such lovely light (me thinks) thy brest retains:
And thus I thought, there's something in the winde,
That makes the Lad thus lovely in our sight:
His entercourse with 
Pan; for when I minde
Things past and gone, yet living in the light;
And when I call to minde the neer relation
He hath to us, and we to one another,
It brings me to a higher contemplation;
Nor will, 
 [...]or dare, nor can we such things smother:
So far am I from being envious
To see thy flock to prosper in thy keeping,
That I rejoyce thy flock increaseth thus:
And I oft think of thee awake, and sleeping;
Yea, in my dreams, me thinks, sometimes I see
Our master 
Pan and thee converse together;
And then me thought these words he spake to thee,
Go fetch thy flock, and bring them up all hither,
And let me see those Lambs of my desire;
For I am pleased well to see thy care;
I see thy heart's upright, and love entire,
And I consider what thy watchings are;
I weigh thy pains, and how thou break'st thy sleep,
To keep thy flocks in frosty winter nights,
And in the heat of summer thou dost keep
Them from the wicked vermine that affrights;
Yea. I have often heard thy Songs of night,
When I pass't by the Sheep-coats undiscern'd;
In such like breathings, I take great delight,
And to my joy thou hast contentment learn'd:
Thou art contented, if it Hail or Snow;
For any weather thou art well provided,
And clothed with content, what winde ereblow;
Content and thee are seldom times divided.
In blustring storms and tempests, flashing fire,
Of thunder, and of lightning, I have known
Thee sit and sing; then for a while retire,
Untill the storm be past, and over-blown.

[Page 39]This was my dream, and when I did awake,
My thoughts were then the same, and so are still,
And would a greater matter undertake,
Then I will speak of, that I may fulfill
My former promise, when with hand in hand,
And heart in heart, we pass'd along the Hills,
We thought we had the Mountains at command,
And could remove them quite against their wille:
But when we saw our weaknesse, we began
For to be think how far we were unable
To undertake what never any man
But 
Pan himself, that's onely imitable:
Bold resolutions then again we made,
When we went to descry what pastures lay,
Where we found Giants ready to invade,
And kept our Southern Shepherds at a bay;
They stopt the passages, where we were wont
To lead our flocks to water, and the Well
Was anciently in every mans account
To be our masters; and the old men tell,
They have Records to show it was a gift,
Of 
Pans donation many yeers ago;
And albeit, they make a dogged shift,
To keep them from it, where they will or no;
Yet we do purpose er't be long to try
A title with them, and to make them show
By what authority they do deny
Our flocks their Water, and our Grasse do mowe:
But let us cease our chat a little while,
And sing a Song our time for to beguile.

The SONG.
I Wonder most,

That some do boast

Of their great roast,

Yet still are lank and lean;


 [...]is lean as rakes,

Souls food forsakes.

And pleasures takes

Amongst the beasts unclean,

Who wanting wings to flie so bie,

The Eagles food cannot espie.

[Page 40]

Some toy
 [...] and sweat,

And t
 [...] Ayr doth beat,

To ge
 [...] 
 [...] meat;

Th
 [...] 
 [...] have some feeding:


 [...]


 [...] her fair,

She 
 [...]st repair


 [...] former breeding.

Po
 [...]r soul thou want
 [...]st the Eagie cye,

The Lamb like nature to espie.

The Dove like eye,

Rate chastity,

Doth 
 [...]a
 [...]awry,

If 
 [...]c h
 [...]r ma
 [...]e be missing:

And there's no wight


 [...]ees in her sight,

Can work delight,

She br
 [...]ks not others kissing.

P
 [...]r so
 [...]d thou canst not rest espie,

B
 [...]ause thou want
 [...]st the Dove like eye.

Then come and see

All you that be

Or bond or free:

Ho, cery soul that flies,

And a
 [...]n would rest

Within that brest

Where souls are blest,

And to your being bies.

The thirsty soul brooks no delay;

You that have wings make haste away.

Come noble hearts.

That act your parts

With roy all darte,

And 
 [...]afts of deadly woundings:

Ride on and hie,

Victoriously;

Let Arrows flie,

Ʋnto your foes confoundings.

As long as they do breathing lie,

Ply them with darts of Amity.

Come David 
play

A roundelay;

Thy musick may

These furious fiends send packing;

And for loves sake,

A circle make,

And save our stake,

For we of love are lacking;

For wicked Saul 
is hard to please,

Thy musick onely can give case.

I have a friend

That stayes behinde,

Sticks in my minde;

I pitty his mistaking:

He is so blinde,

He cannot finde

The Lamb like kinde;

But with the Wolves partaking.

Our Sheep and Lambs he doth detest,

And loves the Woolvish nature best.

Come hither Grace,

Stay here a space,

And view the face

Of yonder Bride preparing:

Her noble dresse

She doth expresse

In humblenesse,

And meeknesse for her wearing.

Sweet soul, such ornament, indeed,

Is fittest for thy marriage weed.

The souls desires,

Ʋncooling fires.

Short breath aspires;

Ah, who can case her longings.

Thy husband he,

That loveth thee,

Will set thee free

From other lovers wrongings.

The bed of love that's kept unseen

With Curtains drawn, is fresh and green.

[Page 41]

Hence evill eye

That comst to spie

Our 
 [...]

Our 
 [...] do not touch.


 [...] not near,


 [...] fear,


 [...],


 [...] grutch:


 [...] 
 [...]sares that transcend

B
 [...]yon thy thoughts that never end.

Here's lovely seed,

That's sown indeed,

In souls agreed,

Partaking of that nature:

And thence doth spring

That noble thing

That light doth bring,

The first-born of each creature.

Then Faith 
and Hope 
are glad to spie,

Their sister dear, fair Charity.
Harry.
Your charity I love and do commend,
And in my minde you do a great deal better;
And oft I think 'tis better to offend
In over-giving, then to be a debter.
Ned.
It is your bounty, yet I pray you know,
Fair 
Charity hath eyes, and can discern;
She is not blinde, nor hood-winkt goes, I trow,
To judge of colours is not far to learn;
She can distinguish colours when she sees,
Or white, or black, or green, or blue, or yellow;
Knows well that light and darknesse disagrees,
And good to evill will not be a fellow.
To say, that white is black, or black is white;
Or for to say, that darknesse doth excell,
And shall esteem it far above the light,
I dare be bold to say, He sees not well:
For when I see a man reel to and fro,
And make Indentures in the Kings high-way,
That is a drunkard, and I think him so;
To speak what I do see, I think I may:
Such revell-rout was kept a moneth agone,
Amongst the Northern Lads that met together,
That staggering ripe they passed one by one,
Well lin'd they thought to keep away the weather;
As blinde as beetles and I heard some say,
That one of them that's sick, will scarce recover;
That domineer'd and swore his wits away,
In a dry ditch, as he was passing over,

[Page 42]Fell down and slept till morning, when the Sun
Began to rise; and when he saw 'twas day,
Lookt out to finde his bottle, which had run,
And that beyond the bridge, quite empty lay;
And when he saw his bottle, he was glad,
And 'gan to poize it, being dry as dust;
But having found its lightnesse, grew so sad,
That to the River for to drink he must,
A cooler fittest for such roaring Boyes,
Such boysterous fellows, that can never tell
When 'tis sufficient, but good things destroyes;
'Twere a good riddance, such were packt to hell.
The world's so full of swearers and blasphemers,
Of knaves and rascalls, cheaters and deceivers,
Of busie-bodies, and vain foolish dreamers,
Blood-suckers, and oppressing life-bereavers,
That I do wonder Heaven can forbear,
To rain down slames, and tempests of consuming
Upon such wretches, as do daily dare
With a high hand Heavens vengeance with presuming.
Harry.
I will not wish that any friend of mine
Should be too forward for to censure those
Whom they may think are faulty, or repine,
And others failings to the world disclose:
Failings, said I? our master is content
To passe by more then failings in us all;
Grosse evil
 [...] daring, bold, and impudent,
With patience bears offenders great and small;
Knows men are men, and whilest we are but men,
Men of the earth, whose mindes are full of folly,
Winks at small faults; out ru
 [...]s us now and then,
Yet knows our hearts are vain and much unholy:
Our dayes of ignorance, and unknowing times,
Doth passe by him in silence unregarded;
Our want of skill esteemeth not as crimes,
Nor sends a servant going unrewarded:
But now 'tis time, sith we have seen so long
His going forth and coming in, before us;

[Page 43]How day by day he comes our flocks among,
And in our wants is willing for to store us:
'Tis good to mark his wayes, his lovely wayes,
His comely steps, when he is passing by;
And being past, mark but his lovely rayes
Is left behinde, discern'd with half an eye:
Yea, wheresoere we go, or run, or ride,
We may discern his foot-steps every where:
Trace all the Hills, and Dales, and Valleys wide,
And who can lay, His footsteps are not here?
In low despised Valleys, I have seen
His lovely steps, and pacings he did go,
Where to my thinking he had never beeh,
Where weather-beaten Reeds shook to and fro:
And when I saw his footsteps, I was glad,
Thought I, Our Lord and Master is not far:
I that before, opprest in minde, and sad,
He came upon me ere I was aware,
And in amaze, I looked, and beheld him,
'Twixt joy and fear; but love was most prevailing:
And when he saw my love, it so compell'd him
To stay with me a while, for all my failing;
He thus began to say, What dost thou here?
What dost thou here, my friend, and servant, whom
I have betrusted with a flock right dear?
Why dost thou thus far from thy Kidlings come?
I gave thee Kids and Lambs, and bid thee stay
By yonder Downs, the fittest place for feeding:
Now tell me why th'art gone so far away,
And to my order gavest no better heeding?
My answer was at hand, and not to seek,
For Love compell'd me for to answer mildly;
For there was cause enough I should be meek,
Cause my behaviour had bin sometimes wildly.
I answered thus, Sweet Sir be not offended,
I came to seek two Lambs that went astray,
When yesterday I purpos'd, and intended
To bring them to the fold in cool of day:

[Page 44]But having told my Lambs, and missing twayn,
I left the other feed
 [...]ng for a while,
Making no question, but with little pain,
To finde them quickly near to yonder stile
I pass'd along beneath the seven Hills,
Something inquiring of my fellow wayns,
If they had seen my Lambs to passe the Rills,
That run along the Valleys in the Plains:
And they made answer they have lost their own,
And more then two, or three, or half a dozen
Were strayed away from them, and they were shown
A skin or two, by some that meant to cozen:
We saw them not, the Woolf per
 [...]aps hath catcht them;
For all these coasts are pester'd every where
With raving Woolfs and Foxes, which do watch them,
And put us daily in a trembling fear.
Well, I was answer'd, yet I would not leave,
But sought them still, where I observ'd thy treading
In every Valley, and I did conceive,
And 't was my minde to trace thee in thy leading:
And now I am come hither to this Dale,
Oregrown with Flags, and Sedge, and bruised Reeds,
And weeping ripe I wander in this Vale:
And now I spie my Lambs. —.
Ned.
Now cease thy speech (sweet friend) I know thy minde,
Thy sweet rebukes I am content to bear;
Sure thou hast learn'd of 
Pan for to be kinde,
Now for my sake (good heart) this Favour wear:
Take it, and wear it, and remember me,
It is a token of my love to thee.
Phil.
D'ee hear my friend, Me thinks it is a shame
You should neglect your flocks, and stand contending;
Such triviall talkings much deserveth blame,
Your vain discourse, me thinks, should have some ending;
Do you not see the Sun doth now begin
For to decline unto the West, Southwest?
Is this the way our Masters love to win?
Or can you think this is your place of rest?

[Page 45]And do you think you shall even now enjoy
An everlasting day here in these Bowers?
How are your thoughts disperst at every toy?
I trust they are not fled beyond your powers,
But that you may recall and bring them home
To things of more importance, then bare words,
For fear of after-claps, let us not rome,
This mighty field more fit discourse affords,
Then dreams, and songs, and musick, words of course,
Such frothy fancies, pretious hours spending;
And albeit, some spend their hours worse,
In bitter railing, and in vain contending;
Yet we must know our Master gave us leave,
For to make merry for a while; but when
We over-run our time, we may conceive
He will deny us when we ask agen.
My sentence is, Sure you have drunk too much,
For you begin to talk of Talents, and
Of high conceivings; few had ever such.
I see your wits doth in a stagger stand;
I see your Nectar do begin to fail,
You'l want supply I doubt within this hour;
Your windy words will hardly bear up sail,
Your sweet discourse I fear will end with sowre:
Words are but winde, and you may tell us stories,
And sing us songs of Shepherds boyes a playing,
Of Milkmaides, and the Shepherdesses glories,
Your folly and simplicity bewraying:
It ill beseems your gravity to spend
Your pretious time in toyes not worth the hearing;
D'ee think our noble Master will commend
This vain expence to every ones appearing?
Harry.
If this be vildnesse 
Phil, I'l yet declare
My vildnesse more, and will be yet more humble.
I tell thee 
Phil, I neither fear nor care,
Though in the dust my glory fall and tumble:
I say, My glory, and what ere I call
Mine, or what cometh from my foolish nature;

[Page 46]My glorious outsides I disclaim them all,
And now my longing is for the—
All that is mine, my words, my deeds, my skill,
My understanding, riches and my wealth,
My love, my joy, and envy, and my will,
My strength, my fee
 [...]le comforts, and my health:
If I have aym'd to purchase a good name,
Honour or good repute, I here disclaim it;
I would not be beholding unto fame,
To blaze my praise, nor once presume to name it.
All that is mine, my books of curious arts,
My best esteem, my glory, and my crown,
And whatsoere my Gipsie-minde imparts
To me or mine, lo here I lay them down;
Judge them that can or will, to fires flame,
Then cast their ashes in the Northern winde,
And let them slie to my eternall shame,
And to the lowest region be confin'd;
Or let them lie amongst those black records,
Even where the rabble of confused things
Doth make a mighty Library of words,
Where lying fame, a foolish 
requiem sings:
For I have heard a noise but I confesse;
I have bin bent to yeeld to more then reason,
When empty things great matters do expresse;
But I had rather hear a word in season:
We have reprovers plenty now adayes,
And every Shepherds boy will be a teacher:
The minde of man is still affecting praise,
And minding victory, is an out-reacher.
Knowledge abounds, they say, and 'tis their glory
That they can argue stoutly, 
pro and 
con,
And can declare, or else they would be sorry,
How we should guide our flocks, and bring them on,
Sometimes upon the Plains, in heat of day;
Sometimes unto the Hills, in moyster weather;
And oftentimes their elders will gainsay;
But their own flocks neglecting altogether;

[Page 47]And thats the folly of our Southern Lads,
That are so hot, and eager set for fame;
And up and down these Pastures daily gads,
And can their looks and words, so finely frame,
That they presume they're able to direct
The oldest Shepherds ranging on these downs;
Quick-sighted to espie the least neglect:
Experienc'd fathers they set down for clowns,
As if they were the onely Seers, who
Are able to discern a storm come flying;
And in their own imagination grow
Mighty, all dangers to each one descrying,
When they perhaps, where ere they came nere saw
Our noble Master 
Pan in any place,
Nor yet his shape, whose sweet aspect doth draw
Like unto like, his lovely steps to trace;
For had they ever bin with 
Pan, and seen
His comely steps, and walking to and fro
Among these little Hills and Meadows green,
And in the Valleyes, where he oft doth go:
Had they but markt and well observ'd his words
And gracious speeches dropping like the dew;
Could they but read the Letters in Records,
Not writ in stone, but flesh that's bleeding new,
That never can be raced out again
With all the skill of Hells poor weak intrusion:
For those that run apace, may read it plain,
And never can be broken to confusion:
Could they but mark his low humility,
How he contentedly doth condescend
Unto the lowest Swayn that passeth by,
And Innocency al wayes doth defend,
And hath an ear as ready for to hear,
The faltring tongue, unready to declare
His out ward wrong, or inward cause of fear;
And can discern how great his pressures are:
And now I wonder much, that any man
That doth frequent these Downs with observation,

[Page 48]Should be so vain and ignorant of 
Pan,
And bear a minde so full of ostentation.

Stoop lof
 [...]y mindes, and learn to imitate

The minde of Pan 
our Master, whose forbearing

Is wonderfull for to commiserate,

Much mov'd to pity, not enur'd to daring:

He kills not with his looks, and furious eye;

The eye of love, not envy, is his killing;

He knows our strength, and weaknesse can discry,

Takes notice of perversenesse and good willing;

He needs not any one to bring him news

Of what is done amongst the herds and flocks;

His watchfull eye discerns, and over-views,

And he their inmost passages unlocks,

And unawares he comes amongst our folds,

Sometimes unseen, without our notice taking,

And now and then, with sweet discourse he holds

Matter enough to keep our senses waking:
But there's some Lads upon the Eastern dales,
That scorn the plain simplicity of 
Pan,
Using his words, as poor despised tales,
As on a time with vapouring one began
To teach our ancient Shepherds, who full long
Have kept their stocks in order and good plight,
And have converst with noble 
Pan among,
The most experienc'd Shepherds with delight;
And all the Lads that will not yeeld to lead
Their flocks along the way, that they would have them,
They do reprove with scorn, and words of dread,
And tell them plain, 'Tis not their Pipes will save them;
Them, and their flocks must perish every one,
For 
Disk, and 
Tom, and 
Will, and 
Ralph, and 
Harry,
Who with their flocks to West, Southwest have gone;
They dare be bold to say, They'l all miscarry:
But noble Shepherds, let me ask you when
You spake with 
Pan our Master: Did he tell
That you, and none but you, the onely men,
Must bear his name, and like wise bear the Bell?

[Page 49]Well, if you'l have it, take it, if you may;
Yet know our Master bears not such a spirit:
And for his goodnesse, Ile be bold to say
Our Master 
Pan will no man dis-inherit:
Is he your Master? is he not as well
The Master of us all? if we obey him,
He's well contented we should stay and dwell
within his house; I trust you'l not gaine-say him.
Is wisdome yours? and will you thus confine
Her piercing rayes within your narrow bounds?
Can you withhold her sparkling beames to shine
Vpon these out-cast, low, despised grounds?
Now I perceive rightwel, wer't in your powers,
You would exclude these watry marish places,
And shut them quite beyond these walks of ours,
Without discerning of the Shepheards traces:
As if our Master did abominate,
Or with an eye of scorn did overlook
The watry Plaines, and inconsiderate,
To the aspiring Hils himselfe betook.
Iohn.
Now I perceive, and I will tell thee plain
What I conceiv'd of thee full long agoe,
That thy too humble flagging wing would staine
The Shepherds glorie, and I finde it so.
A Shepherd and a Souldier must be stout,
Undaunted courage should the minde possesse:
Heroick daring boldnesse brings about
Brave enterprizes, this thou wilt confesse.
Where is the glorie and the brave renown
You might atchieve? d'ye think to purchase fame?
Can you expect to get the wreathed Crown
By such poor things that some will scorn to name?
Reade the Records, and see if thou canst finde
Amongst the Shepheards glories, any one
Ere purchast honour with so poor a minde;
Faith if thou canst indeed, then Ile have done:
Ile say no more, go on, and ride apace
The silly Asse will bear through thick and thin:

[Page 50]If by humility thou purchase grace,
Let brazen gates flee ope and let thee in;
Let every Shepherds Boy take up his Pipe,
And play and sing in this thy happie hour;
Let Shepherdesses when the Palmes are ripe
Bring boughs and sweets to strew within thy bower;
Yea, we will make the very pavements tell:
And to declare the stories of our love,
Those over-trodden places where we dwell
Shall be engrav'd so firme, that none shall move:
If pav'd with love the ground-work do appear,
How glorious then shall our adonrings be?
Loves noble buildings will be far more clear,
Transparent brightnesse we in all shall see,
Compos'd of love the ground-work and the frame,
Inside and outside so compact together,
No Dart of envie can impair the same:
Eternity outshines decaying weather.
Will.

Ned, fill a cup of Nectar, and let's drink
A health to 
Phil. in way of thankfulnesse,
And wee'l no more of thy unkindnesse think,
Nor take revenge, although thou didst transgresse:
Yet pray thee have a care, transgresse no more,
Nor evill no man if thou canst forbear;
For many evils make a mighty score,
Two evils bound together we may fear.

Now blest be Pan, 
that taught us for to know

What is in Man, and how he is inclin'd,

How mighty in himself he still would grow,

And alwayes strong in his good thinking minde.
Shall I do well when I perhaps may see
A Mad-man throwing fire-brands, and stamp and swear,
Cause he is mad, go kill him, for to free
My self from dangers, where no dangers are?
Or if I see a drunkard reeling ripe
(Though not with Wine) should throw him in a ditch
And drown him quite, sure 'twould my conscience gripe:
And I should think some Fury did bewitch

[Page 51]My feeble minde. Ide rather shun the Asse
That kicks he cares not what, nor where nor whom,
Ile blame the Riders madnesse made him passe
Beyond his warrant; he's the veriest Mome.
Come, drink a Round, and each one bare his knee,
And after we have drunk, we'l sing a Song.
Ralph.
We are content and willingly agree:
But pray thee 
William do not hold us long.

The SONG.
DRaw not near,

Vnlesse it may appear

you are bent

With intent

To lay down

The honour of your wreathed Crown;

And nakedly be seen.

He that comes

To gather up the crums

That do fall

In that Hall

Where the Feast

And many a welcome guest

Beyond themselves have been:

'Twill certainly be known,

If you bring ought your own,

Love doth scorn

Vpon the wings of any to be born:

No treasure bring,

Nor any mighty thing,

Her love to gain;

For wealth she holds in high disdain.

Then strive no more,

Strive no more:

Stand by dispair,

Thou canst not flye

Nor yet come nigh

Vnto that Mansion fair.

You spirits that attend

Vpon the souls that send

Ʋp their sighes

And their cryes

From the deep;

And in your bottels keep

The tears of weeping eyes:

In charity affright

These wanderers in the night,

That do haunt

And enchaunt

For their ends,

Disguised like some Fairy Feinds,

And in their Circles rise:

Oh chase those Feinds away

That spoile our Lambes each day;

Bring to light

These crafty Gipsies manifest indite;

Make their graves

In everlasting waves,

And let your cryes

Adde blasting to their memories:

Let Loves fire,

Sacred ire,

Consume their piles;

And Heavens blast

Their ashes cast

To unrecall'd Exiles.

[Page 52]
Harry.
You said my Brother 
William was shame-fac'd,
But now I see you are deceived quite,
And we all see his company hath grac'd
Us every one; his sweetnesse doth invite
To honour him with what respect we may:
Lets bid the Shepherdesses bring their Flowers,
And when we meet on the next Holy-day,
Some shall make Garlands, and some strew the Bowers;
Then in the midst of all the Shepheards, we
Will lift him up above his fellow-Swains,
And set him in a place that all may see
That Wreathe of Fame that better things containes;
For he is worthie, and we will expresse
Our love to him, for he is kinde to all,
And there's no Shepheards Lad but will confesse
More then Ile speak: but whatsoe'er befall,
Before't be long we'l finde a time to meet,
And spend a day amongst our Western Boyes,
Then with a fit or two of mirth we'l greet,
And feed their fancies with some pleasing noise:
But let's be very wary I advise,
Touch not their Gods so high in their esteeming;
Nor in a thought their Deities despise,
But honour them in silence, and in seeming;
For we well know you are not much to learn,
That they have mighty Holds to which they flie
In their distresse, which we that can discern,
May see their feeble strength with half an eye.
But fellow Shepheards hearken, and Ile tell
A pretty story of some Western Blades
That went a roving by the Fairies Well,
Who lay a sleeping by the Fancies shades,
And runne upon them ere they were aware:
But one that was more watchfull then the rest,
Began to rouze with more then common care,
Gave the Alarme which Gypsie Fortune blest,
And with undaunted courage 'gan to speak,
With 
Qui va la? in English, 
Who goes there?

[Page 53]Who answered thus, A Friend, though poor and weak,
That came from far, and goes he cares not where.
Then come to us, said he, and we will dance
A Round or two; for we desire to deal
With such, and with no other, if perchance
We finde such friends as can our mindes conceal,
Then call your Crew, said he, and bring your Cates,
For we intend to taste of what we finde;
Do not forget but bring your female Mates,
For 'tis reported you and they are kinde.
He had no sooner spoke, but up he call'd
A pretty Crew of nimble footed Spirits,
Who with a Circle hand in hand Impall'd
Them in the midst; then with their choice delights
Presented them; and they were well content
To be confin'd with pleasing violence,
Still giving heed unto their merriment:
A Damsell then with modest impudence
Stept up, and she began to play and sing,
With raptures of transcending pleasing Strains;
Some fragments of her Song I here do bring,
Which with delight my memory retains.

The SONG.
Come you whose mindes are free,

And can with us agree

To walk along with we;

Vn
 [...]armed shall you be;

And hand in hand we'l dance a round

In any place where we finde ground.

No place we finde amisse,

But can enjoy our blisse,

And can as freely kisse

Heavens hand where ere it is;

For every where where ere we goe,

We finde a friend, and none's a foe.

When stormy Winters blasts,

And darksome Clouds orecasts,

We have a day that lasts,

Whose brightnesse never wasts:

Let raine, or shine, or hail, or snow,

Our shelter we full well do know.

Come bring your nimble feet,

And let's the Measures greet,

Hard measure will prove sweet,

And we dare boldly meet:

The raging Lion we can tame,

And make him hang his tayle with shame.

[Page 54]

No Tiger, Wolfe, nor Bear,

That doth destroy and tear,

Can us possesse with fear,

Though we their raging hear:

Their roarings vanish in the aire,

Th'arr feeble things to work dispair.

We travell far and wide,

We are to no place tide,

Where ere we do abide,

We care not if men chide:

For harmlesse we do passe along,

And do no living creature wrong.

If we have list to eat,

We take no care for meat,

No creature we intreat,

No labour makes us sweat;

We in abundance are content,

And are well pleas'd when store is spent.

The place whereon we rest,

We alwayes think it best,

Our mindes are so possest,

Repinings we detest.


 [...]n every place and every thing,

We can behold contentment spring.

Then if we stand or fall,

Our danger is but small,

Our beings all in all,

This we our refuge call:

Then sink, or swim, or live, or dye,

We passe our dayes contentedly.

We passe along unseen,

Ore Hils and Meadows green

No creature yet hath been,

To view our honour'd Queen:

But if they come to gaze and spie,

We strike them blinde, and leade them by.

We wish no creature ill,

Nor mean to learn the skill,

To poyson or to kill,

Nor never had a will

To learn the art of cutting throats,

For we have learned better notes.

Fair Innocency rare

Is the best cloathes we wear,

We take no further care,

Though we seem poor and bare:

So long as we go void of blame,

Though we go naked 'tis no shame.
So having danc'd, and sung, and plai'd a while,
The hearers spirits being lifted up,
The musick ceast; then with a pleasing smile
She with some Nectar fill'd an Acorn cup,
And drank a Round to every one apart,
And then began a pause, but 'twas but short,
Till pleasing slumber overwhelm'd each heart,
Then with strong sleep each one began to snort.
And now 'tis past my skill for to relate
How long they slept; but this I dare be bold,
When they awak'd their sweets were out of date,
And they were in their dumps as I was told;
There mirth was gone, the Fairies they were fled,
The lovely Crew were vanish'd out of sight,

[Page 55]
Then 
all-amort nō more with fancy fed,
Could not contain themselves but wept outright.
Tom.
But 'tis reported of some standers by,
That markt and view'd the passages of things,
That some of them of purpose came to try,
When in the midst of all their revellings,
If they could steal away their Gods; but see
How they were serv'd, for by the law of like,
The Gods that in their own esteem were free,
And none durst touch, much lesse presume to strike,
In their presumption ran so far astray,
That they did lose themselves thus in a maze;
It is no marvell they have lost their way,
When every fancy makes them stand and gaze:
For it is writ, and I remember well
The words, I'm sure they were not writ in vaine,
The Gods with whom my lovely people dwell,
In any case revile not with disdaine.
Ralph.
But 
Tom, me thinks they did but hardly deal,
That they presum'd their Gods away to steal;
For when all's lost, and men their losse bewail,
With threatning speech to ask them what they ail.
Tom.
To steal away their Gods? now cease thy chat,
Peace 
Ralph, and take advisement ere thou speak;
Be not too nimble, for I'le tell thee what,
That's a hard task, and men I know are weak;
'Tis not the hand of man can steal away
A God adored living in the minde:
Or true or false, a Deity bears sway,
Affording help to each one in a kinde;
But 'tis the Finger of a Higher hand,
Who with a touch can bring away the soul,
And make it better Objects understand,
And past the power of humanes to controul.
Ned.
Their Gods; what Gods? Is there a God beside
The Shepherds God? and are they Gods indeed?
Some woodden Gods I trow, whose painted pride
Nere stirs to help a Shepheard in his need,

[Page 56]Who hath no eyes to see when danger's near,
Nor ears to hear our sad complaints and groans,
Nor hands to help to ease us of our fear,
Nor hearts mov'd to remorse with all our moans;
No tongues to speak divinely, or direct
The Shepherds of the Vallies how to keep
Their flocks in comely order, and select
The lovely Lambs quite from the scabbed Sheep;
No feet to walk, that we may imitate
Their lovely steps in freedome and delight;
No living motion that might elevate,
But lumpish Melancholy that affrights.
Ralph.
But 
Ned, I pray thee speak no longer now
Of these uplandish Gods, for fear they blast us,
If I can choose, I'le not come near I vow,
For why? some Planets have great power to waste us:
Let's leave that subject; now I call to minde,
Upon a time when thee and I went forth,
And drove our flocks together, seeming kinde,
With savoury words which shew'd of mickle worth;
We wandered up and down from place to place,
Up mighty Hils, then all along the Dales,
Much time we spent; then for a little space
We sate us down and told some merry tales:
But mark the mischief, I that had good store,
And plenty in my Bag, and Bottle full,
Some evill Beast had found, and Scrip had tore,
And up and down the Hedge-rows did them pull;
And see thy kindnesse, thou hadst plenty still,
And I in want and hungry hunger bites,
Then thou went'st by as one that had no skill
Nor knowledge of our loving Masters rites,
Thou hadst forgot I think how he doth set
Himself for an example, and doth bid
Us learn of him, what hinderance, or let,
His wayes of imitation are not hid.

[Page 57]My houshold servants, and my Shepheards who
I put in trust with all my flocks, have learn'd
For to be kinde to all, both friend and foe,
And by that signe the difference is discern'd,
If they have learn'd of others, or of me:
If they have learn'd of me, they will be kinde
To one another, all things shall be free:
Their very hearts are open to their friend:
Hath he two Coats, and see his friend go bare?
Naked and destitute, of clothing cold;
His fairest russet garment he'l not spare,
Wert better then his best a thousand fold.
And he that hath provision in his Scrip.
And will deny a Shepherd in his need,
And in contempt, begin to hang the lip,
And of his plenty will not let him feed:
Let him be banisht quite beyond the Plains,
And be confin'd within some narrow bounds,
Untill such time that he a sense retains,
And so doth feel a Shepherds wants and wounds.
For I have travell'd far, and never knew,
Nor never heard of any Shepherd yet,
That ever came where love of kindnesse grew,
That could, or did, those noble Plants forget.
Ralph.
But Brother 
Will, reports do go of thee,
And it is known to some that's here among us,
That thy expressions have been far more free
With some Companions; prethee do not wrong us.
Why should'st thou hide from us thy loveliest strains?
Thy Song of Sorrow, prethee come and sing it,
I know thy breast diviner things contains;
Thy Harp hangs by, I wonder thou'lt not string it;
For t'other day, as I was passing by,
I heard thee sing; but though I crafty were,
Thou didst perceive my craft, when I did lie
Behinde a Bush, thy lovely strains to hear.
Make us partakers of thy mirth and moans,
We are thy friends, thy welfare is our joy;

[Page 58]Wilt thou relate thy sorrows to the stones
That have no ears, nor wit for to be coy?
We know thy nature, we can simpathize
With thee, although thou fall as low as Hell;
And in the lowest Region memorize,
Light in the depth of darknesse with a Spell;
Out of the Flint we can produce a fire,
And water too, for to refresh the sense;
If from thy self thou should
 [...]st a while retire,
We have a Spell will bring thee back from thence:
And 'tis in vain for thee to stand aloof,
For we will bring thee forward with a witnesse;
And though I think thy breast is envie proof,
Thy humble station shewes thy noble fitnesse.
Will.
And there's reports, and some reports are true,
That thou hast store of Pictures, pray thee tell;
I am thy friend, and I have very few,
Yet I have learn'd and can distinguish well;
Yea, I have skill in Physiognomy,
And by thy looks I can perceive thy heart;
Shew me thy Palm, Ile reade thy destiny,
If not in full, yet Ile be bold in part.
Tom.
Art thou a Fortune-teller, Brother 
Will?
I pray thee tell my fortune if thou can,
For I have heard thou hast got pretty skill
In Palmestry; I honour such a man.
Will.
Fortune doth favour Fools, wise men are poor,
The poor are humble, humble fears no frowns;
Proud sturdy Beggars beg from door to door;
Fierce hunger cares nor fears to break stone-wals:
Stone-wals are strong, and yet they are but stones
Compact of slime, unsensible of sense,
They cannot cry if one should break their bones,
Nor humane Charms produce one tears expence:
I see thy heart now at thy fingers ends,
And I perceive a Pearl stands in thy eye;
Thy hands are full of crosses, that portends
Thou must be beaten to humility.

[Page 59]And thou lov'st Pictures well, then hear me speak;
I care not for thy coyn, if thou hadst more;
Thou think'st thou'rt strong, but I perceive thee weak;
Hadst thou 
Pans Picture, thou would'st nere be poor.
Shew me thy foot, or give me but the length,
Or shew the Circle where thy foot did stand,
I dare be bold I'le shew where lies thy strength,
And name the Planet that doth countermand:
If any one should shoot an Arrow here
Amongst us all, I dare be bold to tell
From whence it came, if once the shaft appear:
Let me but handle it, and view it well,
If I do'nt tell if it be 
Jonathans,
Or other shafts that came from 
Esaus Bow,
Or from the private arme of any mans,
I'le pawn my credit I will plainly show:
Yea, I can tell if he that shot the same
Had ever been with 
David in the Plain:
For mingled souls will manifest the flame
Of pure affections, alwayes in the main.
And thou lov'st Women too too well I hear;
A woman is thy Master, thus 't was told
Among the Shepherds lately; and I fear
'T will prove a certain blemish; for I hold
A woman should be silent, and submit,
And not presume to teach, that should be learning:
Discretion is content to stay at home, and sit
To hear her Husbands words of more concerning.
What should a woman know, but for to learn
To know her Husband from another man?
That knowledge is sufficient to discern,

This depth of understanding pray thee skan.
Harry.
But now in sober-sadnesse, Brother 
Will,
Let's lay by jesting; tell me thy conceiving:
What dost thou think of our uplandish 
Phil?
And speak thy minde, all by-respects out leaving:
Thy hidden language I well understand,
I know thou speak
 [...]st more languages then one,

[Page 60]Thy speech bewraies thou'st matter at command.
I know thou walk'st not on these Downs alone,
I know what company thou dost frequent;
Him whom thou lovest is our chief delight;
Then love him still, it is not my intent
To seek for to deprive thee of thy right:
We are not jealous, for 'tis our desire,
That every Shepherd that doth trace these Hils,
In conversation would draw something nigher;
I dare be bold 'twould much augment their skils.
Will.
Thy servant Brother; and it is my joy,
To be imploy'd by thee in any thing:
If thou command, thou shalt not finde me coy
In any service might contentment bring
To thee or thine: do thou but speak the word,
I'le shew my readinesse to give content:
If I deny, then put it on Record,
If thou don't finde me more then complement;

Tres humble service in the low'st degree
I will perform, nothing shall come amisse,
Such vildnesse is no bondage unto me;
For 'tis my joy the feet of love to kisse.
And I abhor his folly, that doth utter
Words of despight against our growing friends,
For to my grief sometimes I've heard him mutter
Words which did seem to work his private ends;
Though like an Angell he sometimes hath seem'd
To me, and to my friends; and in my soul
I honoured him, and mightily esteem'd
His words as Oracles, without controul:
But when I heard him utter words of scorn
'Gainst better then himself, I blest me than,
And sometimes crost my self as one forlorne;
And speaking in my self, I thus began.

Oh All in all, if thou be'st All in all,

Where is thy glory? wilt thou take delight

[Page 61]

To blast the fame of our increasings small?

And with thy splendour dost thou use to fright

The poor, despised, weather-beaten Crew,

That at thy feet lie gasping now for breath?

'Tis nothing but thy breathing can renew;

Life, without thee, in my account, is death:

Wilt thou take part with them that do disclaim

Thy nature, and thy name? 'tis far from we

For to approve of such, whose only aime

Is to advance themselves, not minding thee:

Canst thou take part with them that do despise

Thy silly wandring flock, that strayes for feeding?

Canst thou delight in them that do devise

A way to nourish Wolves, and Foxes breeding?

Let Wolves take part with Wolves, let Foxes lie

In wait for to deceive, their nature shewing.

Sheep will be Sheep, let foolish Envie try

If they can make them change with overcrowing.

And if I perish, let me perish, Lord,

With thy despised ones, that bear about

Thine honourable marks, and can afford

To bear the scornings of the Rabble-rout.

When I say rabble, Lord, I do not mean

Coblers and Tinkers; for they are to me

Better then silken Doctors spruce and clean,

That never heard, nor never learn'd of thee:

But Rhetorician raylers that can prate,

As much of thee, as any man alive;

Yet in their in-most thoughts abominate,

And at thy being secretly contrive:

Yea, those I mean, that will as soon take part

With scorners and despisers, as with those

That fear thy name, and can deride by Art;

And upright hearted most of all oppose.

[Page 62]
Tom.
Art thou a Roundhead, 
Will? me thinks thou speak'
 [...]
As if thou lov'dst the cause; I pray thee tell:
But be thou sure of this, the bread thou break'st
Shall be set on thy Table, ill or well.
Will.
If by the name of Roundhead, thou dost mean
The humble minded; then I am content
To sit amongst those Beasts thou count'st unclean:
And I shall think my time more nobly spent,
Then If I sate amongst the painted crew
Of party-colours, that those daughters were,
Whose off-spring from the Prince of darkness grew:
Such foolish brats that 
Edoms daughters bear;
Who, though they be such daughters that can change
To every colour, green, and Maiden-blush,
And daily with the countrey daughters range,
And marry with a Ring made of a Rush;
Yet I had rather glean among the sheaves
With Moabitish 
Ruth, then fill my sithe
With straw and stubble, or Egyptian leaves,
Or of their harvest gather in the tithe.
That name I know was given in despight
Of Christian mindes, and those that did protest
Against th'opposers of the lovely light;
Who both good life and doctrine doe detest:
And in that sense, I glory for to bear
The name of Roundhead, though I will confesse,
I much unworthy to my self appear,
To undergoe reproach, or more, or lesse:
And 'tis my shame I am not gone so far
As to despise the shame, my glory's small;
Yet I will glory, and I will not mar
My joy in this light, darknesse for to call:
I will not, nor I dare not for my life
Against Professors speak, be what they will;
With the upright minded I will cease from strife,
That walk with God in any way that's still.
But those that do disturbe the common good
With factious clamours, far be it from me

[Page 63]To think them wise, or godly; I nere stood
To plead their cause, from that I will be free:
And if I erre in what I speak or write,
'Tis out of charity, and 'tis my love:
Oh let me perish if I work despight
Unto the voice of the poor Turtle Dove.

And now, O Lord, confound and lay full low,

The vain imaginations of the man,

That doth despise thy people; let him know

That he hath spoken proudly now and than.
Me thinks there is in me a sweet respect,
That in my soul I give to every wight;
Yea, every soul, I say, not every Sect,
In whom I see a spark of lovely light:
Let him be Spaniard, Turk, or Indian black,
So that he be no Infidell, denying
The principles of Nature; nor doth lack
Humanity, to manage his complying:
When I see Justice, and sweet Mercy kinde,
With rich imbracings, kissing one another
In any one; me thinks, if I were blinde,
Yet I might well discern him for my brother.
But oh, when cruell Justice stands alone,
To cut down all offenders, then think I,
This is the Devils picture grav'd in stone,
That scorns a Mediators simpathy.
Tom.
But 
Will, thou wast relating to'ther day
What losse our friend sustained, he that dwels
Upon the Eastern plains; for I heard say,
He all the Shepherds of the West excels
In wisdom, and in wealth: for from the East
Promotion comes; the Star that guides the soul
Was there first seen; those Orient Pearls are best,
Whose sparkling rayes black darknesse doth controul.
Will.
I tell thee 
Tom, the man was mighty rich,
And full of goods, his Barns well fill'd with grain;
His Oxen strong to labour, few had such,
And daily wealth came in with little pain.

[Page 64]But on a time it fell, the rascall rout,
The worst of all the people, made a prize
Of his substance; how came it about?
For to relate I am not yet so wise:
We mark't the pass
 [...]ges, and discontent,
That we expect
 [...]d daily to ensue,
In exp
 [...]ctation of some sad event
Or desp
 [...]ration shortly would accrue:
Bu
 [...] oh, I am not able to expresse
The sweet
 [...]esse of his carriage; For instead
Of foul dispair, he took with joyfulnesse,
The spoyling of those goods where Vipers bred.
Tom.
The spoyling of his goods, that's no great thing;
Dost thou not know as yet, there is in man
A kinde of self-conceitednesse doth spring
Afresh in him, cre since his fall began?
Dost thou not know, that man affecting fame
Will venture life and limbe that he may live
In humane hearts; and in his minde doth frame
Models of mighty Mountains, to arrive?
Even at the highest pitch of happinesse; for why,
Men are so animated by their Priests,
They presently attain eternity,
Whose acclamations prove but Had-I-wists.
Will.
Be patient 
Tom: let moderation guide
Both thee and I: dost in thy conscience think
That thou dost well, this speaking, to deride
The zealous hearted? it shall never sink
Into my breast, that he that is content
To leave his life, his liberty, and being,
And is content, to live in banishment,
Quite from the means of any mortall seeing,
In zeal to God, on purpose to obey
His Makers will; me thinks that man doth see
Beyond himself: What felf-nesse canst thou say
Remaines, but may with charity agree?
I'le tell thee what even I my self have known:
Some friends of mine whose plenty did excell,

[Page 65]And had they stay'd in 
England, might have grown
Rich, and in plenty might have liv'd full well.
But mark their zeal, they quite forsook their means,
For to enjoy the freedom of their mindes,
The staffe on which the worldly minded leans,
Although in that none satisfaction findes:
And liv'd by Pease, at morning, noon, and night,
Better contented in that poor condition
Then they were wont; and found more sweet delight
In that hard fare, then in their full fruition:
Me thinks I cannot entertain a thought
Of prejudice against such reall thinkings;
For I have weigh'd those Arguments some brought
To prove them simple no-things; others winkings
And silence gave consent: This was my thought,
I tell thee what I thought, my thoughts are mine;
And in so saying yet I have not sought
To make thee think amisse of thoughts Divine.
All zealous burning hearts that talk with God,
And are inflamed with his lovely being,
And are contented to endure the rod
Of his chastizements for their further freeing,
I willingly will bear; and I will bear
Their contradictions too, and their revilings,
And it shall be my glory for to rear
A monument to all; my self exilings:
I will not care what men do think of me;
Praists I value much-what like the winde,
I am content Fames trumpet should blow free;
I hope it shall not much disturbe my minde
Though some speak evill, yet they cannot tell
So much as I can of my self relate.
I know more evill by a mighty deal,
Even by my self, then all the world can prate:
But let them prate, I take no other care,
I'le fight with them in love, come if they dare.
Ned.
Well answer'd 
Will: Me thinks thy words do favour
As thou had'st been with 
Joshua, sure thou hast;

[Page 66]Tis my rejoycing thou hast found that favour,
Me thinks thy words well rellish in my taste;
For 'tis my joy where ere I come to hear
Men speak with good affection, 'tis a grace
That seldom in our Gown-men do appear,
Whose want of wisedom over-clouds the face:
For lovely wisedom makes the face to shine,
And secretly infuseth in the mindes
Of the beholders that which doth entwine,
And with inthralling violence it bindes,
And makes the soul to say with strong desiring,
When it beholds the glory to expresse,
Such fervent love, with lowly breath aspiring,
Oh, that I were like thee in lowlinesse:
Oh, that I could, even in the dust lie down,
Me thinks that low condition is the best,
Then I should quite forget a mortalls frown,
Then with the Worms, sure I should finde some rest;
For there's a glory sure amongst the Worms.
Companions in the dust, whose intercourse
With one another in preventing storms,
And low condition never fears divorce:
For t'other day, as I was passing by,
In yonder lowly Valley, there I saw
Our Masters picture to the life, whose eye
Did every eye in that large Valley draw:
Three thousand souls at once, as I suppose,
Of purpose came to view, and every one;
Yea, I dare say, that every one of those
Said in his heart, He looks on me alone;
And so said all that stood, or far, or near,
Or either side, or just before the place,
The fixed eye to each one did appear,
As if it were set our Vains to outface:
Look you on that, it look't on you likewise,
And so said all, It looks on me, and me:
And in each heart from thence forth did arise
More noble thoughts then all the world can see.

[Page 67]
Ralph.

Will, there's a friend would very fain come in,
And see our Master 
Jesus, but I fear
He's over-lofty minded to begin
To stoop so low, and curious too I hear.
Will.
Wouldst thou see 
Jesus, friend? thou art not able
For to behold him in humilitie,
Thy countenance doth render thee unstable;
For every Shepherd saith thou com'st to spie:
Couldst thou but view him in his lowlinesse,
Sitting amongst the children of delight,
And speaking in their language, thou'dst confesse
Thou never didst behold a better sight:
Thou art too mighty friend in my conceiving,
Thy countenance doth give thou art too rich,
Thy speech bewrayes, thou hast a heart deceiving;
For too much learning doth thy soul bewitch:
Thou canst not stoop so low, it is my fear,
For thou grow'st stiff with age, gray-hairs grow on:
Old in the evill nature who can bear?
A burden to thy friends to think upon,
Age in extreams frozen in thy words:
Words without life, a life without consent:
Rugged unto thy friends, upon Records:
All love sometimes in way of complement.
Ralph.
But Brother 
Ned thy countenance doth give,
And I with pity, view thee now and than:
Sometimes me thinks the life that thou dost live
Cannot be called life; for when I scan
Thy visage, and thy looks, how pale thy cheeks,
Thy gloating eyes, thy pendant hairy brow,
Thy griming teeth that scanty covering seeks,
Shews that lip-labour thou do'st best allow.
Love from teeth outward, such as thou hast learn'd
Among the Western Shepherds hide-bound crew,
That love, but in the tongue that's soon discern'd,
A hollow voice a hol low heart doth shew.
Will.
The humble soul discerns the voice right well
Of her beloved; half a word from him

[Page 68]Is better then ten thousand tales some tell,
From brain-sick mindes, that in their puddle swim;
For she doth know the voice of him that speaks
Out of th'abundance of Librarious treasure,
And she hath eyes to see the hands that breaks
Souls food, and gives it by weight and measure;
For t'other day when two or three of us
Were sadly walking to the Eastern Plains;
Discoursing 
(pro & con) it chanced thus,
Even in the midst of our condoling vains,
A noble Shepherd passing on the way,
And hearing our discourse, drew near, and went
A long with us, and none of us could say
What man he was, nor what was his intent;
But albeit, our journey was not great;
Our feet were faint, our eye-sight that was dim,
Our hearts did burn, and pine for want of meat,
Yet well content to go along with him:
But to be brief, we came unto the place
Where we intended for to stay all night;
Then we perswaded him in any case,
To stay with us untill the morning light.
Well, then he stard, and when we sate at meat,
Our spirits well-nigh spent, he took the bread
And blessed it, and brake, and gave to eat,
Which after we had tasted, and had fed,
Our spirits werereviv'd; our foolish eyes
That had been held on poor decaying things,
Far better objects wishly now diseries,
And glorious things to our remembrance brings:
And then we know full well it was the voice
Of our Beloved, once set down for lost,
Our hope almost ashamed of our choice,
And on the waves of strong temptations tost:
But never man that ever spake with tongue,
Spake like this man; for he brake bread indeed,
No giddifying Darnell bread, to wrong
The eaters brain; 'twas made of holy seed.

[Page 69]
John.
Speak like a Christian 
Ned, me thinks thy driving
Is over furious: Why do'st drive fo fast?
A gentle softly pace is best for thriving:
We have a Proverb too, 
Much haste makes waste.
Provoking urging words, doth ill become
The servants of that houshold whereof we
Are glad to be partakers; though there's some
Disdain a servant in that houle to be:
But he that is content to sit and hear,
And is content to learn the simple plainnesse
Wherein the Shepherds glory doth appear,
And are content to lay aside their vainnesse,
Shall view another nature with delight;
Yea, such a glory fixt by wisedoms shining,
To animate spectatours with their sight,
To come and see with hearts in hearts intwining;
For albeit we do disdain to bear
The name of cowards for we will resist,
And will the Woolfs and Fox-like nature tear,
And will not stand on tearms of had I wist:
Yet we have learned of our Master that
Which nere will be forgotten, and can do
That which our Southern Shepherds make much chat,
And though they talk, are loth to undergo;
To recompence to man evill deeds
For evill doings, if a Shepherd rail,
Use him with kinde respect; such noble seeds
Will certainly finde rooting, seldom fail:
Nor can a Shepherd that hath gone so far,
And hath attained this degree in learning,
For every small and triviall matter jar,
And fight with those that are of lesse discerning,
As if they liv'd by fighting, and would make
A trade of wars; and those that shall perswade them
To leave that course of life, they alwayes take
For forraign enemies that would invade them:
As for example, twenty dayes ago,
When half a dozen Shepherds in their walkings,

[Page 68] [...]
[Page 69] [...]
[Page 70]And meditations walking to and fro;
When in the midst of their sincerest talkings,
There passed by three Captains of the West,
That liv'd by fighting. We, as we were taught,
Saluted them with 
(vobis pax) that's best;
And they reply'd, Your words must passe for nought:
You Rogues, quoth they, our livings is by war,
And do you wish us peace, for to undo us?
D'ye wish for that, which our contents would mar?
A worse condition cannot come unto us.
But give me leave to speak a word or two
Of my conceiving, now it comes to minde,
Tis possible for one to fain to do
Such glotious things, that humane eyes will blinde:
Dost thou not see how skilfull some are grown,
To play the Christians on the worldly stage?
What glorious out-sides to the world are shown,
By some that are a great deal under age?
Have we not seen a Woolvish nature wear
A Sheep-skin for his covering, closely hiding
His ears, and teeth, that's alwayes bent to tear;
Yet with the Sheep and Lambe, are alwayes siding?
Dost thou not know, my friend, me thinks 'tis plain,
That humane creatures are for imitation?
And he that spake it, did not speak in vain;
Neither in manner, nor in limitation,

Do as you see me do: You see my doings
Is for your imitation, follow me,
Observe the steps I take, and all my goings,
For I can walk on raging waves you see.
Come learn of me, my friends, and I will teach you
The way of thriving, you that would be rich,
No cunning crafty dealer shall out-reach you,
No School-play Engins can the minde bewitch;
But you that follow, and would learn indeed,
Be well advised, leave your selves behinde,
Of such great luggage there is now no need,
For you must be content with what you finde:

[Page 71]But, oh my friends, look for no better fare
Then I your Captain. We shall meet with those
With venom'd tongues, and brazen face will dare
For to affront, and venture to oppose,
Through many turnings, and through windings strange,
Even through the deeps I passe, and so must you;
Yea, you must wait as I did for your change:
No other way I can, nor will allow;
The way is mine, the eye of flesh is blinde,
Her prudent ones by seeking for the door;
Their eyes are held, alas, they cannot finde,
No entrance there, because they are not poor.
Thou art too great to enter in this way,
Too rich, and full, thou hast no need of me;
The glorious Arm of flesh is all thy stay;
These with thy understanding best agree:
Could'st thou but be content to go along
Into the horrid death, and be content
The mortified souls to sit among,
Accounting that thy chiefest element;
And could'st thou be content to stay with me
The time appointed in that darksome night,
Untill the day-star do arise to thee,
And give good heed my Word, to follow right,
And be content to speak it from thy heart,
Lord, I will follow thee where ere thou goest,
Nor death, nor hell, shall my affections part,
I will not leave thee when thou art at lowest:
Let airy birds flee to their foolish nests,
Let crafty foxes run to holes for hiding;
But our affections flies, and never rests,
And cannot finde a place for our abiding,
Untill it finde thee for to pitch upon.
Thou art the body, Eagles they have wings,
To flee from foolish shadows, and be gone:
They cannot rest on these decaying things,
They see, they see, for Eagles they have eyes;
They see another nature is preparing,

[Page 72]Quite through the vapours of contentments flies,
And will not stay to see these pleasures sharing.
Ralph.
But 
Tom, I know thy skill hath greatly fail'd
In laying spirits; yet I know thy skill
Is great in raising spirits, that prevail'd,
And rais'd a storm that overturn'd a mill:
And I remember well, thou shewd'st thy art,
To lay the spirit with thy conjuration;
But yet the devill did so play his part,
In black confusion, that by 
Wills relation,
It blew down arms of Trees, and one great Oak,
That by relation stood three hundred yeers:
Till thou wast forced deeply to invoke
Our Masters ayd with grievous bitter tears:
At last our Master came, and chid the winde,
And husht the storm, that presently obey'd,
The evill spirit he in chains did binde,
'T was well for thee thou gott'st such speedy ayd.
And I remember what our Master spake,
Rebuking thee for thy presumption bold;
And many a tear I wasted for thy sake,
For I perceiv'd right well, thy heart grew cold:
Wouldst thou presume to meddle with that Book
Of which I gave thee charge full long ago
No not to touch, much lesse therein to look?
Now thou mayst see thy strength that fails thee so;
Now thou mayst see how weak thou art indeed,
Had I not come in quickly to thy ayd,
Hearing thee cry, but loth to see thee bleed;
And with my wisedom and my skill soon laid
That evill spirit, sure thou hadst been torn
In little peices lesse then nothing; and
Each little peice a monument of scorn
To every evill eye in view might stand.
John.
Thou art too cruell 
Ned in my conceiving,
For t'other night I in my meditation,
I thought on thee, and of thy harsh bereaving
The little Bird of her sweet generation:

[Page 73]Thou takest away the Nest, and Birds, and all,
Thou took'st away the Dam, that few would do;
Me thinks it seem'd to me unnaturall,
And thou some penalty must undergo;
Me thinks it were sufficient for to take
The little Birds, and let the Dam go free,
And not to act the devils part, to make
The soul a prey unto thy cruelty.
Will.
You worst of men, lay down your Shepherds Crooks,
The Ensignes of your honour, come resigne them,
Retire a while, and live among the Rooks,
And in your circles study to confine them:
Go prattle with the daws, for we have seen
Enough to make us loath you, and your coates;
'Tis not your countrey Grey will make us ween
You simple-honest, you must change your notes:
Our Masters servants now begin to learn
To know, and can distinguish words and words;
But words are winde, they're able to discern
What sollid substance frothy words affords.
Now you may sit, and talk, and tell us tales,
What other Shepherds said, and what they did:
But what do you who answers to your calls,
For underneath your coats there's rapine hid:
Now you may pawn your Sheep-hooks if you will,
And throw away your Pipes, or if you please,
Make musick to the Woolves, for they have skill
To dance after your Piping for their ease.
You tell us of your pains, and watchings often,
When we are in our folds securely sleeping,
And with such rubs as these, you work, and soften,
Our sheepish nature of your care in keeping:
If you take care, are you not well rewarded?
Are you not cloathed with the finest Wool?
Though you forget your flock, none more regarded,
And though they pine, you have your bellies full;
And yet you say, It fares with us poor hearts,
Even as with Carriers Horses, who must bear,

[Page 74]And do expect no pity for our parts,
Till underneath the weight we sinking are.
Ned.
What art thou angry 
John? do'st thou do well,
For to expresse thy passion in this sort?
I preethee be advis'd, for I can tell,
'Tis good for to be cautious of report;
For some reports be false, though some be true,
And some will out of envy utter forth
Their very spleenish nature, and there's few
Attain to moderation of much worth.
When I passe by a Shepherd that doth wear
An honest russet-coat, I do comply,
And do him fitting reverence, for I swear,
With any reason I cannot deny,
To give him good respect, at least in shew,
That wears the coat of gravity; though he
Wears underneath his hood a brazen brow,
And is not what he should, or ought to be;
For orders sake, I shew him good respect:
For thus I think, he's good, or should be so,
He's foreman of a flock that should direct,
His Masters sheep the steps that they should go;
But 'tis thy zeal, I cannot blame thee much;
And yet our Master saith, Lay down your Arms,
Put up your Swords, I have no need of such,
I have no thought to work you humane harms,
I am for peace, I have no minde to fight,
My Shepherds must not strive, my sheep are quiet,
There's nothing in their nature to affright,
Their wantonnesse did nere intend to ryot:
Perhaps the Lambs will run at barley break,
And wantonly will frisk it on the Downs,
For to expresse their joyfulnesse: But speak,
If you ere saw a sheep use killing frowns;
Perhaps they'l break the Hedges for to finde
Out better pasture, sometimes spoil the corn,
And yet not well contented in their minde,
Wander in desart places, till forlorn:

[Page 75]But let that passe, let's learn for to forgive,
And to forget unkindnesse, and let's presse
Unto a further pitch, till we arive
Even at the lowest cell of humblenesse;
And there let's sit and sing under that shade,
Where Envy cannot peep to mar our pleasures,
The arbour that of old our Master made,
And therein takes delight to lay his treasures.
Will.
Ah Brother 
Ned, hast thou no better learnd,
Then thus to reverence foolish painted clothes?
Thine eye I'm sure hath better things discern'd,
I dare be bold, such things thy judgement lothes.
A Cobler is a Christian, wilt thou look
Upon his servile clothes with high disdain?
That's not Gods eye I'm sure, and who can brooke,
Ah, who can bear this base indignity!
Christ did not with his Rabby Doctours sit,
So much to hear them, as for to oppose
Their vanity, and their great want of wit,
With an intent his treasure to disclose:
Where is the Scribe, the crafty scribling Scribe,
The Worlds disputer, rhetorician railer,
Boasting their great descent of 
Levies Tribe,
And in the Arm of flesh is aprevailer?
Leave offering to this Idoll, now my friends,
Must we be alwayes children, alwayes learning
Of them that Preach themselves for their base ends,
For bread and cheese, and pocket up their earnings?
But now because my word, perhaps may fright thee,
I'll sing a Song a little to delight thee.

The Song.
You that mindlesse

Of unkindnesle,

Sit and sing away your hours,

In the Season

When fair Reason

Sits amongst the lovely flowers,

Where Birds singing,

Musick bringing

To the Arbour of delight,

With such fitnesse,

With a witnesse,

Our Hobgoblins doth affright.

[Page 76]

Natures chearing,

Voices clearing,

Come and help us bear a part.

Ease our longing

Of Arts wronging.

Nature far surpasseth Art.

Nature's springing

Helps our singing,

Give us natures wings to flie,

That will chear us,

And twill bear us

Almost to eternity.

View the paving

Where no waving

Nor shadow of a change;

No appearing

Of base fearing

Can on the Meadows range.

View these building,

And the guilding,

And the noble Wreathes of Fame:

View the stories

And the glories,

Of Loves never dying name.

Mark the Traces

And the Graces,

Mark the shooes the soul doth wear:

Sweet affections,

Rare perfections,

In her steps there doth appear.

Mark the talkings

And the walkings

Of the lovely soul divine:

To the Center

At adventure

She wholly doth incline.

Where espying

In her flying

Far above the common Sphears,

Lovely beings,

Glorious seeings,

Which the longing soul uprears:

Who aspiring

With desiring,

Both in nature and in name.

Though estranged,

Would be changed,

For to be the very same.
If I should use plain terms, and call thee theef,
I think I should not wrong thee; for I think
Thou hast deceiv'd the gods, and to be brief,
Without equivocation, by this drink
I'll speak my minde; thus I conceive of thee,
That thou hast got admittance to the place
Where thou Heavens flames of sweet content didst see,
And being sped of such a noble grace,
Stole from the Altar in the heat of day,
Fire in thy Vessell, and in Embers hid it:
And now 'tis manifest thou dost assay,
To blaze it as thine own, but we have spi'd it.
Will.
Now where's your charity? I see you shoot
At random now: If 
Jonathan were here,

[Page 77]I dare be bold Ide know him by his foot;
His Shafts of love would flie beyond us there;
But now I see th
 [...]art marry'd to thy minde:
Thy Freedom is but Bondage: I could wish
That thou wouldst never marry; for I finde
In troubled waters thou delight'st to fish.
Ah 
Will! 'tis well with thee, that sitst among
Thy fellow-Shepherds, playing in the shade,
Wh
 [...]l
 [...]t we are pester'd with a fearfull throng
Of men of 
Mars that all our Coasts invade,
That spoil our mirth, and hinder all our joys,
Our scattered flocks amazing with their noise.
Come, we are friends, let's lay by discontent,
And let us sing.—

The SONG.
AS of late

In Babylon 
we sate,

By the waves

Whose stout braves

Were enrag'd,

As if they had presag'd

Our ruine out of hand.

Then to minde

I called thee right kinde

Sion bright,

Whose fair light

Dazling eye,

And Princely Majestie,

Still in our soul doth stand,

With tears fresh bleeding new,

Our plants we did bedew;

And hung by

Our harps upon the watry Willows nigh.

Then they (to us forlorn)

Spake in deriding scorn,

To grieve us more:

We hear you have some Songs in store;

Then tune a string,

Come and sing;

We fain would hear

What Musick words

Your soul affords,

This heavie weight to bear.

Ah, how should we

Our strings set to agree,

Or make choice

Of a voice

For to sound,

That ecchoes might rebound

Jehovah's living fame,

In a land

Where folly doth command

With delight,

In despight,

To oresway

And in confusion lay

Poor Sions lovely frame?

But in these woes if I

Where ere I come deny

And forget

Thee and thy silver drops that wet,

And distills

[Page 78]

Down to the little hills

And forlorn allies,

And fills with Songs despised vallies:

Let my skill

Fail for to fulfill

Her task intended:

For to allay that furious fray

From hellish fumes ascended.

All my joys


 [...]alue but as toys:

If I misse

Thee my blisse;

If I prize

Not thy rich dignities

Above my dying fame;

Let my tongue

In silence keep among

Those that lie

Long lad by

In the graves,

Where dismall bonds enslaves

Ʋnto a breathlesse name:

Dear Sion, my delight,

If I thy building slight,

Or if I

Do not thy ashes dignifie,

Let mine eyes

Be fill'd with salt supplies,

And brinish weeping,

And blinded with eternall sleeping.

Griefs renew,

When I view

Thy waste buildings;

Yea 'tis my wo,

To see the so

Deface thy noble gildings.
Edom 
he,

Though he our kinsman be,

On that day

Did display

Much despight,

As if he took delight

To view our sore distresse;

For relief,

They added to our grief,

Ʋsing words

Worse then swords,

With rude cries,

And in their master-prize,

Their madnesse did expresse.

These buildings raze, said they,

And in the dust them lay,

And pull down

The glory of her peerly Crown;

For ever blast the fame

Of Sions foolish name,

And make it die,

And in eternall silence lie.

See, O Lord,

And record

Their cursed joying,

And bear the noise

These furies raise,

In Sions walls destroying.
Babels 
pride,

Display'd both far and wide:

Though she's seen

As a Queen,

Sitting where

She says she has no fear

For ever to behold

Mourning strange,

Or dismall face of change,

To affright

With their sight,

Or betray

Ʋnto a gloomy day,

Who dares be so bold?

But there's a blessed friend,

That doth our Cause defend,

Whose strong hand

Shall lay thy Towers level with the sand:

Yea, happie sure is he,

That so rewardeth thee,

And serves thee thus,

With such despight as thou hast served us.

[Page 79]

Yea, thrice blest,

That detest

Those brats of thine,

And dash them all

In pieces small,

Against the Rock Divine.
Ned.
Why how now, 
Will, what walking all alone
Without the bounds of our communicating?
Are thy thoughts boundlesse? wilt thou needs be gone,
And flie beyond us in thy contemplating?
Shall flying thoughts be valu'd? dost thou think
They'll passe for currant still among the wise?
Dost think all's blinde that at thy follies wink?
No, no, we see thy foolish enterprise:
Thou wouldst be boundlesse fain; I know thy aim,
Thou aimst at things too far beyond thy reach;
The Labyrinth thou walkst in doth proclaim,
Thou dost thy Conscience on the tenters stretch.
Thou seemst regardlesse both of friend and fo:
Sad melancholy musings, cloudy mists,
Encloseth thee wherever thou dost go,
And thy conceivings are on 
Had I wists.
Thy thoughts do much resemble, to my minde,
The Asses thoughts, that turns away his eyes,
And will not see the Wolf that stands behinde,
With open mouth, awaiting for his Prize.
Put off thy Vizard, that we may behold
Thee in thy selfnesse: Why shouldst thou appear
More lovely then thou art a thousand fold?
It casts a lustre that my eyes doth blear,
Had I not known thee, I and many more
Had been deceiv'd by this false glosse of thine:
But I have seen thee sometimes heretofore
To pull it off and on, to make thee fine.
Faith I confesse it doth become thee well,
If it were naturall, 'tis lovely, and 'twill draw
The hearts of the beholders: But Ile tell
Thee what I think, and what I'm sure I saw.
Will.
Ah, brother 
Ned, my sadnesse grows of this,
Because I see so little God in thee:

[Page 80]For I account it more then common blisse,
In any man these gladsome beams to see:
But when I s
 [...]e these beams of discontent,
Breathing revenge for ev'ry slight offence;
And when I see thee vomit spleen, and vent
Thy own conceivings loathsome to my sense;
I stop my nose, the senses of my soul
I shut against these vapours that arise.
Nor friend nor fo shall give mine ear controul;
For I have weigh'd thy foolish fallacies:
Within my Balance I have weigh'd thy words,
And I have found them lighter then the winde,
And I perceive no better things accords
With thee then vanity in grosse entwinde.

SONG.
ALl you that are for Salem 
bound,

Hye boys, haste away,

For fear our ships should be aground;

There's no safety in delay:

For Time and Tyde will stay for none,

Hey 
 [...]o, loth to part:

Now time doth serve, we must be gone;

Each one bring away his heart.

Methinks I hear our Master call,

Ho Boys, come aboard:

The time doth passe, the Tyde doth fall;

Hear friends, give the word.

Come horst np Sails, and bear amain,

Fair winde, gentle gale:

Let none of you your courage stain,

Here's winde enough to fill our Sail.

There's no fit place to harbour here,

Hard rocks, no remorse;

No shelter on these coasts appear;

Blinde guides steer our course:

Mighty hills on every side,

Valleys deep, as low as bell.

The raging waves who can abde?

And for to still them who can tell?

Thus we with resolution arm'd,

Come life, come death;

Patience makes us passe unharm'd,

Once lost, out of breath.

If we be lost, the Sea will save;

Chear boys, here's a prize:

We Sea-men must not fear a wave,

That's a shame that we despise.

For we well know that we shall meet

Proud blades that will not fail,

And us with lofty speeches greet;

Ho friends, strike your Sail:

But we have learn'd for to resist;

No Colours we will fear.

There is no pleading Had I wist,

Nor yet no place of hiding here.

Lo yonder comes the roaring crew,

Come boye, danger's neer:

Our courage we must now renew;

Stand by, foolish fear.

[Page 81]

Avant you foule tormenting charmes,

heer's helpe enough at hand:

Come noble hearts, stand to your Armes,

a greater force we must withstand.

N
 [...] 
 [...] 
 [...]ear our Master speak;


 [...], be advis'd:


 [...] lgement is but weake;


 [...] come disguis
 [...]d.

Yet you may know them by their feet.

Dr
 [...] 
 [...], cleer your sight:

For this 
 [...]ll cup of Nectar 
sweet

will make a searsull Coward fight.


 [...] we fear their cursed noyse?

Charge boyes, doe not spare.

Me things their roarings are but toyes:

stand to it, cast off Care.

So long as we stand charg'd with Love

who dares to assault?

Their bold presumption well we prove;

if they be wounded, 'tis their fault.

Bear up your Ensigne in their view;

sh
 [...]t Sirs, spare no cost:

Among
 [...] them wounding Arrowes strew;


 [...] are not lost:

Perhaps they may reflect agen,


 [...], bleeding Soules:

Then who can heal these wounded men?

gentle breasts their grief condoles.

Stand to it boldly, noble herts,

'ward their charge againe:

You see they send us poysoned Darts,

reward them for their paine;

And send them double two for one;

Loves shaftes wound deep:

Discharge again and they'le be gone,

or in their woundings fall a sleep.

Alas, when will these troubles cease.

weak soules, feeble strength;

That we the harbour of our peace

might see at the length?

Ah now our Ship begins to sinke,

helpe hands, spare no cost:

We must of greater sorrowes drinke,

alas our Ankors hold is lost.

Oh Master wake, arise, and save,

we perish if thou stay:

We fear the Sea will be our grave,

thou canst these waves allay:

Thou canst rebuke the roaring Seas,

furious tempests thou canst still:

If thou but chide, the winde obeyes,

and stands submissive to thy will.
THE ARGVMENT.
THe Shepherds boy, with low and sad aspect,
as if orecome with passion, lookes about him,
And for a while doth seemingly neglect
his stragling flocke within him and without him:
Then recollecting his dispersed powers,
who almost lost in Silence, passeth by
All discontents, resolves to spend his houres
in things more serious, and his pipe doth try,

[Page 82]Invites the scatter'd Flock to hear a Song,
and by the name of 
(Woman) comprehends
The humble soul fair 
Rachel weeping long;
And then digressing from his matter, spends
Much of his time in wandring wearinesse;
Sometimes aloft, sometimes in low despair,
Some observations high he doth expresse;
Though he may seem sometimes to beat the air:
Of the five Senses speaks sometimes in brief.
These in a silly cloud are mixt together;
The single eye discerns which are the chief,
And can distinguish when he speaks of either.
After long seeking, weeping 
Rachel's found;
Her griefs are known, her childrens losse cuts deep;
In telling of their names, her griefs abound:
Order nor Method in this Song doth keep.

The 
SONG.
DEarest Darlings of the plaines,

place of Soules residing;

You that listen to the Swaines

by the rivers gliding:

Come and hearken to a Pipe

that playes out of Season;

For my oaten reed's not ripe,

yet it harpes on reason.

Come, Ile tell you of a Song

that I heard one singing,

Full of wo and passion strong,

heart and hands a wringing.

'Tis a womans voice, said I;

this I said in thinking;

For I saw no creature nigh,

but some birds a drinking,

Lifting up their little bills

to their great Creator,

They had quickly drunk their fills,

then to the Theator,

Flew about the worlds great stage,

every thing possessing,

At their holdnesse none did rage,

they no law transgressing:

None presumed for to aske

them of their abiding,

They did still performe their taske,

fear'd not Masters chiding.

Whereso'ere they set their Feet,

in their estimation.

'Twas their own, and not unmeet

to their reputation.

Then me thought I heard a quire

of these airie Creatures,

Moved much with strong desire

to behold their features;

Much rejoycing for to hear

how they prais'd their Maker,

Oh, thought I, might I draw neer,

to be their partaker.

[Page 83]

Pressing something nigh the place

where they congregated,

They thought I had come to chase,

and been animated

For to hurt them in their joy;

but I had no intention

For to work their least annoy;

fight was their prevention.

I regardlesse for a while,

went aside to wander

In the desert many a mile,

where was no by-stander:

Then to work my thoughts were set,

and my minde a flying;

Matter plenty to intreat,

objects new descrying.

Sometimes Castles in the air

I would fain be building;

Something still will crosse the hair,

and mar all the guilding.

Restlesse thoughts my minde possest,

high imaginations;

Still there thrust in many a guest,

working molestations.

Sometimes almost in despair,

at the conscience chiding;

Then, thought I, I will repair

to my former biding:

But the thoughts of my return

to my former station,

Made my inward parts to burn,

with a great vexation.

Oh, thought I, must I forfo

my acquaintance loving?

All those friends that I love so,

kinde respects to moving?

Shall I part with my two eyes,

lovely things descrying,

To be guided by such Spies,

into weaknesse prying?

I that have been apt to think

no mans seeing better

Then mine own, I now must wink

and become a debter,

To be guided and be led

by some sower leader,

And so think my self well sped

with harsh Lecture-Reader.

Ah, those dainty Musick words

that I often hearing;

That such sweet delights affords

to the Senses chearing:

Must I now forgo to hear

these delightfull voyces?

Ravishments that charm the ea
 [...]

humane sense rejoyces.

Must I now endure a wrong?

ah, how shall I bear it!

Blowes and smitings with the tongue,

I do greatly fear it.

I that have been apt to give

blowes and evil speeches

Two for one, now must I strive

to come with kinde beseeches?

I could nere abide to see

any man more prouder

Then my self, nor any he

in his defence speak louder.

Oh how sensible of wrong,

quick in opprehension

To conceive offences strong,

scorning reprehension!

How unapt am I to learn

lovely moderation,

And unable to discern

snares of tribulation

That lie hidden underneath

leaves of painted pleasure,

Broods of Serpents that do breath

blastings out of measure?

[Page 85]

How have I been over-joyed

at delicious smellings?

And how quickly am annoyed

at corru
 [...]ted swellings?

Flower that but for a day

have no longer lasting,

And to morrow thrown away,

to the dunghill casting.

As I wandred all along,

then I call'd to minding

The distressed womans song,

some occasion finding

To return and seek the place

of her po
 [...]r abiding,

And to know her piteous case,

and cause of wo betiding.

Back again, th'row thick and thi
 [...],

then amazed standing,


 [...]iewing which way to begin;

for 'twas no demanding:

I might ask the lofty hills,

but their high disdaining

Shew'd it much against their will
 [...],

to their honours staining.

Then I came into a plain

full of water gallings,

Willing for to entertain

and to hear my calling
 [...].

Stay a little, and I'll tell,

by familiar speakings,

How to sinde her in her Cell,

furnisht with heart-breaking
 [...].

For I see thy troubled minde,

and I am a witnesse

Of thy sorrows in a kinde:

yet thy much unfitnesse

Makes me doubt thou wilt not bear

what I say unto thee:

If thou canst, then stand, and hear,

and mark what I do shew thee.

If thou go beyond that hill

that stands over looking,

Thou shalt hear an Eccho s
 [...]rill,

which though hardly brooking.

And yet further for thy sake,

I will tell thee plainly,

Thou must passe a mighty Lake,

else thy travell's vainly.

Something backward for to yeeld

to such hard directions,

I began to view a field

worthy of inspections,

Where some tracings I espide,

willing for to follow;

But the bushes much did hide

places deep and hollow.

Passing over hills and dales,

now behold a wonder,

Storms arose, and mighty gales,

flames, and fearfull thunder.

Mountains moving to the plains,

hills to garden-alleys,

As if fill
 [...]d with dancing vains,

came to hug the valleys.

I much wondring in my minde,

'gan to ask, What ail you,

That you thus digresse from kinde?

does your pillars fail you,

That you stagger as they would

on the Sea be sayling?

How can you forgo your hold,

and thus shew your failing?

But this wonder overpast,

then steps forth a Notion,

Telling me these hills were plac't

subject unto Motion:
Pan 
had weigh'd them in his fist,

and hath found their lightnesse,

And oresways them as he list,

in their vain uprightnesse.

[Page 85]

From this mountain overturn'd

by that mighty Mover,

Fora further view, I turn'd,

and 
 [...]gan to discover

Tr
 [...]ps of Eagles, whose quick sight

some rich prize dis
 [...]rying,

From the mountains took their flight,

none their way denying.

'Twas a body, as I thought,

to my best discerning,

Which great Pan 
from heaven brought,

much to our concerning:

Very precious to behold,

and twas good for feeding;

Though long kill
 [...]d, it was not cold,

for 'twas fresh a bleeding.

To this Body all resort,

with ma
 [...]h sweet devotion,

None presumed to extort,

there was no Commotion.

'Twas no custom for to strive

for the greatest measure;

None was seeking to deprive

other of his treasure.

For there was enough for all:

be that had but little,

He the same might plenty call:

be whose part was mickle,

Had enough, and had no more,

he had nothing over.

Sweet contentment is a store

which but few discover.

For 'twas reacht them by the hand

of that mighty Giver,

Depths of treasures at command,

old, yet ever liver;

Always drawing, yet nere dry;

old, but not decaying;

Flowing forth abundantly

streams that's never staying.

Having view'd and laid to heart

in my meditations,

Counting it a Noble part

of my consolations;

Then unto the powers Divine

I sent up a heaving,

Saying, Thou art all, and all is thine,

quite my self outleaving.

Then methought I saw a hand

be
 [...]kning to come hither;

Then I did amazed stand:

Lord, quoth I, ah whither,

Whither must I go to finde

that poor soul distressed,

That doth much oppresse my minde,

as if interessed?

There she sits with weeping chear,

for she's very nigh thee;

Blubber'd ore with many a tear,

she will still out-cry thee.

All the comforts thou canst bring,

will not ease her sorrow:

Little Rivolets will spring

to a flood to morrow.

Then inventing words of Art,

seeking to perswade her;

Painted words that case no smart,

more in passion made her.

All my Rhetorick was vain,

for there was no hearing;

She was deaf to entertain

any words of chearing.

Then I pray'd her to relate

what might be the matter,

That I might commiserate;

for I scorn'd to flatter.

Oh, said she, then give an ear,

and Ile make relation:

You that have an ear to hear,

hear my sad Narration.

[Page 86]

For it is the saddest thing

ere befell a Woman;

Sorrows now afresh do spring;

and I tell thee no Man

That ere yet my eye beheld,

to ease my distraction,

Could bring words, nor reason yeeld

to my Satisfaction:

For I am a Woman lost

in my apprehension,

On the Waves of Sorrow tost;

and tis my intention

To stay here, and waile and weep

all my dayes remaining;

In this field I meane to keep,

of my losse complaining.

I have lost my Children dear:

ab my losse is greater

Then I am able for to bear;

pray be no Intreater

To perswade me, for I feel

Sorrowes that must kill me,

Peircing worse then rods of steel,

they with terrours fill me.

They that were my hearts delight,

when I did behold them,

Are departed from my sight,

and I could not hold them:

All of them are fled and gone,

and they are no longer

Gone, and I am left alone,

wanting life prolonger.

Oh that beavens would agree

to repaire my Losses,

That it once again might be

as before those crosses;

When encompass'd with the light

round about my dwelling,

I had Joy and sweet delight,

gastly thoughts expelling,

Where is Love, 
that lovely Child

of divine begetting,

Lovely pure and undefil'd

Plant of heavens Setting?

When I saw thee in my Hall,

Joy and thee together,

My Attendance were not small;

all came flocking thither.
Patience, 
where art thou become?

will my house not hold thee?

I cannot see thee in my room.

I have often told thee,

With intreating for to stay,

and with mighty wooing,

Saying, If thou part away

'twill be my undooing.

Ah my dear Long-suffering 
now,

whither art thou flying?

Didst thou weary of me grow?

hast forgot complying?

Hast thou suffered over-long?

couldst thou bear no longer?

Did my hreath thy breathing wrong?

was my weaknesse stronger?
Joy, 
my sweet and lovely guest,

art thou growen a stranger

To my wofull throbbing brest?

was there any danger

In thy stay? If thou hadst stay'd,

were my rude embraces

In such wanton guise array'd,

to be thy disgraces?

Oh how far am I from peace,

as if unacquainted?

How can I expect increase,

when my Courage fainted,

And so carelesse was to seek

peace, and to pursue it;

Rough to kisse her dainty Cheek,

now too late I rue it?

[Page 87]

Now the thing is come to passe

way my expectation;

For I feared long, alas,

some such alteration.

When I thought my footing fast,

on a hill unmoving,

At an instant came a blast,

such couceits reproving.
Gentlenesse, 
I thee conceiv'd

when I was but little;

Twins within my womb perceiv'd,

but my strength was brittle:

When they came unto the birth,

weaknesse it prevailed;
Gentlenesse, 
as cold as earth,

wanting breath, soon failed.
Goodnesse, 
I was mighty sick

when I did conceive thee;

And the time when I grew quick,

when I did perceive thee

To begin to stir and rise,

though much pain enduring,

Yet my soul did still comprise

hopes of more assuring.

Oh how wary then was I

of undecent moving!

Stirring violence laid by,

gadding disapproving.

Fearfull lest I should let slip

seed of such a nature;

Heedfull lest my feet should trip,

and lose so sweet a creature.

Ah my sweet companion, Faith,

when I call to minding,

I still think thy whispering saith,

There's no hope of finding.

When we walked hand in hand

on that Sea of trouble,

Foul despair, devouring sand,

made my sorrows double.

Ah those deadly whirling deeps,

mercilesse bereavings,

Boundlesse bounds, nor measure keeps,

gulfs of deep deceivings;

Cruell Mercy, raging Love,

waves of sad destroying;

Overwhelmings which do move

foams of shame, annoying.

We that once had thoughts to flie

far beyond the mountains,

Almost to Eternitie,

where the living Founains

Issue forth abundantly,

mighty Rivers making:

Joyfull streams, whose rich supply

thirsty desart slaking.

All these high transcending things,

common sense outreaching,

All aloof on Eagles wings

we our compasse fetching,

Quite beyond these vapours flew,

mystie clouds oretopping,

And the sweetest breathings drew,

for 'twas Sions dropping.

I that had such free accesse

to those inmost beings,

Which I will not now expresse,

lest some craftie Seeings,

And then speaking in the air

might produce a wonder;

Pride, that sits in scorners chair,

should my thoughts bring under.

Here's a blest prospect, said I,

still mine eye beholding;

Might it stay continually,

such high things unfolding:

I should quite forget my carth,

at the Suns exhaling,

T'raptures of diviner Mirth

willingly enthralling.

[Page 88]

Oh condition mighty Sweet,

might I still enjoy thee!

But the heavens thought unmeet

for to overcloy me

With these Dainties, least I should

surfet in my pleasure,

And my Nakednesse unfold,

and disery their treasure.
Meeknesse, 
I shall nee'r forget

with what kinde entreating,

When of purpose one was set

with foul words and threatning,

For to urge thee with disdaine

and with words of scorning,

Thy reglyings did containe

things of rich adorning.

Ah thy words and sweet replies,

from divine infusing,

Shew'd there were in thee supplies,

far beyond self chusing:

Heavens breath of cooling Fire,

flames of rage allaying;

Nature of a blessed Sire,

influence convaying.

Not like Hellish rage, that swells

mighty, like a Monster:

Fire, whose infernall Spells

will all things Misconsier,

Turning to an evill sence

things of good intention,

Blasting under faire pretence,

growing things prevention.
Dick.
I Have sent thee halfe a dozen Songs,
that thou mayst tune them; prethee do thy best,
And I'le forgive the six or seven wrongs
that thou didst me in earnest and in jest.
I know thy Art doth far exceed my skill,
yet 'tis but Natures handmaid that must wait:
And so it shall though't be against thy will,
tis good sometimes to set our reckoning strait.
Thou knowest thou owest to me a great deal more,
thou owest me for a Pipe thou took'st away,
And twenty things besides stands on thy score,
and more I doubt then thou ere mean'st to pay:
Thou ow'st to me thy self, and all thats thine,
Thy Scrip is mine, also thy dainty Sling;
Thy Sheephook and thy Tarbox both are mine,
I taught thy Dog to carry and bring.
Well, what I say, I thinke thou wilt confesse;
Let thee and I observe old 
Harry's Law,
And then I'm sure we shall not much transgresse;
some observations we from thence may draw.
Thou know'st how once a friend of mine and thine

[Page 89]was serv'd by 
Jeffe, of whom my Conscience sayes.
His meaning did to honest things incline,
though ill acquainted with our masters wayes:
Who being in distresse, and wandring long
upon the Westerne Plaines, sat down a while
Under a Hawthorne, and tun'd a Song;
the Countrey Shepherds thought him some exile;
Who to this comfort freely did present
their Bottles and their baggs in friendly wise,
And bad him eat, and drinke, and be content,
and shewd him kindnesse in the countrey guise:
But oh, alas, with pity be it spoke,
when he had eat, and dranke, and sat a while,
He looking wildly, into passion broke,
the Countrey Shepherds fell for to revile;
And in these words to my best observation,
he utter'd forth a kind of indignation.

SONG.
GEt you gon from me,

Ye Ravens of the valleys;

I would fain be free,

Pray keep you with your kinde:

I have meat to eat

Exceds your homely feeding.

Till I do intreat,

Let me possesse my minde:

In this my silent musing

I am best content;

For I do frequent

Yonder valleys chusing,

Lofty hills refusing;

What I seek I finde.
BUt 
Dick, let thee and I alwaies have an eye unto the Star that never leads out of the way of Humility, which will serve as the Mathematicall Compasse, for Travellers, when they passe tho­row the unknown Land, whose inhabitants speaks a strange Lan­guage; but they knowing still where they are, and having an eye to their guide that never deceives them, passe thorow all difficulties of the confused Wildernesse: And though perhaps often meet with Scratching Brambles that catch hold, and get now and then a Fleece, tacitely speaking, 
Stay with us; and though you have pas­sed over the great River, yet there is a great many Rivoletts and 

[Page 90]Foordes to passe over, which will be a hindrance before you set downe your rest.
And sirra 
Dick, Ile tell thee how one of our Northerne Shep­herds t'other neght (for it was in the night) was served with a 
Pooke, as thou knowest there be many in the North.
As the poor man sat watching his Flocke, and yet something given to hearken to Novelties, there passed by one like a Shep­herd well accoutred, and tells him, That if he would go along with him, he would direct him to exceeding good pasture. And this being in the Night of his understanding, he followes the Man up Hills, and down Dales, thorow thick and thin, and fetcheth a mighty compasse; and they travelled all night, (like horses in a Mill blindfold) till they came to the place where they began: Then perceiving the delusion, he began to draw backe; for the spell was at an end, for it was not God spell but devill spell.
But he having formerly observed the Nature of our Master, saw plaine enough that it was but a Delusion: for our Master is no deceiver, neither doth he use any Ambiguous words to cause us to doubt; but sayes, 
This is the way, walk in it.
And I tell thee 
Dick, his way is the way of Charity; for there is never a 
Pooke in the world can be Charitable, for it is against their nature.
But it is naturall to our Master to go about doing good: And thou shalt do well to observe the difference; The one is a Calumniatour of all good actions and endeavours; the other construes all good endeavours to the best, and is so far from vilifying the Countrey Shepherd in his Dialect that cannot speak Grammer; that as in the water face answereth to face, he answereth according to the minde, and not to the words of the speaker.
Well then 
Dicke, thou knowest that all men are Imitaters; and I would not have thee Imitate the 
Pooke, or, 
Will with a Wispe, whose false fire keeps no constant station; but skips up and down, and rather blindes, then gives light to the sim­ple.
Well 
Dicke, I know thou understandest my language, and as yet I could never heare thee put a tune to any Syrens Song: but as like rejoyceth to see its like, and thy spirit that I love, knoweth the 

[Page 91]meaning of my spirit well, that I need not instruct thee any fur­ther, but il'e tell thee more of my minde Shortly.
But 
Dicke, I am now at a stand, unlesse thou canst help me at a dead lift; for I cannot tell how to tune the Song of many mindes: For I tell thee I have been often amongst the zealous harted, and I have heard them all sing Severally; And to my thinking, all of them agree in this, To magnifie the great name of 
Pan; For that is the Subject of all their Songs, though I confesse I have heard a great noyse against Independents, as If Independency had no relation nor dependancy upon God, nor no part in David, of whom I I will give thee my reason or opinion, without ryme, (think thee what thou wilt) That they in their spirits have smelt such a savour of thy holy anointing, which hath such an Adamantick: drawing, that makes them thus violently to run after Christ; I it is the Common Song—
Master, we well follow thee wheresee­ver thou goest; Of these I could instance in particulars; But I leave that for a second part.
Vale.

[Page 92]

Something on the Lords Prayer.

WE whose conception, Matter, and our being,
Are the out-flowings of a noble Nature;
Immortall Seed infused with agreeing,
And sweet consenting, hath produc'd a Creature,
Old things are past, and now we do behold
New things appearing daily in our sight,
Substantiall living breathings manyfold,
By which we say 
(Our Father) as by right:
Father of Spirits; Oh how glad are we
To call upon thee by the Name of Father?
We are thy off-spring, loe we flee to thee,
And like the Eagles, to thy body gather.
Sweetnesse it selfe thy Name doth so import;
We are thy Children, and thy sons by birth:
We will not speak of thee by bare report,
For our affections are not on the Earth.
Thou art our Father, and wee'le hang on thee;
Wee'le take no thought, for thou dost still provide;
Wee'le take no care, in thee we shall live free;
We have no helper in the earth beside,
Father, we need not aske thee where thou dwellest,
But we will come and see, if thou give leave:
Then bid us come the way that thou compellest
By hand of Love, which never did deceive.
We know where thou dost dwell, and where thou art;
in low humility thou dost delight,
There are thy heavens, there thou dost impart
Those noble uisions, ravishing the sight.
Father, shew us thy Glory we desire; 
 [...]
We faln would see thy Glory i
 [...]hen gieep,
Where panting Soules short breathings do aspire,
and the Records of thy embracings keep.
Now 
Hallowed be thy sweet and pretious 
Name:
Thy nature and thy Name are highly prized;

[Page 93]
With Songs of praise we will declare the same,
Yea, with new songs which Nature hath devised.
We cannot chuse but tell thy noble praise;
Thy pratling babes in time may learne to speak;
Yea, we will spread our garments in thy wayes,
And goodly branches we will cut and break:
Wee'le strew thy waies with songs, and bring thee home
Unto thy dwelling, and thy place of rest:
Wee'le bring thee to thy temple, then wee'le come,
And sit, and hear thy wisdome which is best;
For thou art mighty in humility,
Therein thy greatnesse most of all appeareth;
Mighty in doing good, a Majestie
To which our Spirits most of all endeareth.
Great is thy Name, and thou hast given strength
Unto thy little ones for to declare it:
If we should hold our peace, the stones at length
Would melt and cry; they could not long forbear it.
Oh let 
thy Kingdome come, wee long for that,
That thou might'st raign and rule among the Nations,
And that those daring walls may fall down flat,
That do include such strange abominations:
With scepter of thy Love so oversway
That brood of Gyants that as yet possesse
The goodly hills, thy captives lead away,
In chaines of Love their fury to suppresse.
Though Scepter of thy Kingdome do compell,
Yet such compulsion we are glad to bear;
To bear thy yoke we are contented well,
and thy commands not grievous do appear.

Thy Kingdome comes, and we are well content
To wait upon thy will and thy command:
If we should live out of this Element,
Then we should perish quickly out of hand.
What is thy will, we will: Weel'e not repine
to see thy will effected; but desire
It may be done in all that's called thine,
In all affections low, or raised higher.

[Page 94]
Nought comes amisse to us, for we have learn'd
To be content withall things that befall us;
In every thing we can and have discern'd
Thy hand of providence for to impale us.
Give us (in this our day) our living Bread,
The childrens bread for whom it is provided,
That we may live thy life, let us be fed,
As thou wast wont, let it be still divided;
For every eye of Faith lookes up to thee
For satisfying food and thou suppliest
Their biting wants with blessings rich and free,
Come all that will, for thou no soule deniest.
This is the staffe on which wee'le alwayes leave,
And by this staffe we past through Iordans flood;
The staffe of youth, and in our Age we meane
To make it all our stay and chiefest good.
If with this bread thou'lt feed our fainting soul,
And satisfie with life our Soules desire;
If thou our names wilt in thy Book inroul,
To wear thy cloathing and thy known attire;
If thou wilt cloath our spirits in that white,
That perfect white, and righteous robes divine;
If with thy spirit thou wilt ours unite,
That it may never be at odds with thine:
Then thou shalt be our everlasting stay,
Weel seek no other fortresse to Secure us;
In thee wee'l hide our selves in heat of day
And in the night thy presence shall secure us.
Father, we are in debt, and cannot pay,
Unlesse thou make us able, we shall perish;
Forgive our debts, that we in freedome may
Recover strength, and our conceptions cherish.
We are indebted, and ingag'd to yeeld
Perfect obedience, by thy law of love;
But when we wander in this mighty field,
Seeking our selves, lost better things above.
But as we are indebted, we have those,
That are in debt to us, which daily wrong us,

[Page 95]
Which constantly with might and maine oppose
Our best endeavours; yet they live among us:
Those we forgive, and give them meat to eat,
And drink to drink, and fain would overcome
Their evill with our Good: but they still threat
To worke our utter ruine all and some.
In all our Wants, Lord keep us from despaire;
For thou art rich, and in thy house is store,
And we beleeve we shall not lose a haire;
Give us even as thou wilt, or lesse, or more:
Onely 
into temptation lead us not,
To leave us to our Selfnesse: 
from that Evill

Deliver us, and let's not be forgot
In hellish grave, to perish with the Devill;
For those that lie in grave, and stinking ripe,
They have nor tongues nor will to speak thy praise;
Hell hugs them fast, the feel no dismall gripe;
They have no heart nor power themselves to rais:
The living, Oh the living, that partake
Of thy sweet life, they, they, have tongves to tell,
And of thy wonders true Relation make,
How they have past the deeps in heaven and hell;
Through deep temptation, They have past along,
Accounting it their Joy, because they saw
Thy leading hand, which ne're directed wrong,
And from those deeps can sweet contentment draw;
For well we know, the mighty Kingdomes thine,
And of thy Kindome there shall be no end,
Though other Kings and Princes do repine,
Yet with thy Scepter thou willt make them bend,
And bring their Crowns and lay them at thy feet,
And lay aside their Honour, when they see
How apt their weak foundations are to fleet,
And how thy Kingdome is from changes free:
And now, though other powers oversway'd
And overlorded us besides thy power;
Yet by thy power we wil not be dismay'd.
Although they come in troopes for to devour,

[Page 96]
Because there is a glory that out-shines
The proud, fantasticke, foolish, painted glory
Of earthly spirits, that still undermines
To make thy power but an empty story.
In every Age unto Eternity,
Thy 
Kingdome, Power, and Glory, is made known.
Though over-clouded in a Mystery,
To carnall view the beauty not showen;
Yet we have seen it in the Wildernesse,
In low despised valleyes; therefore we,
What we have seen and heard we will confesse,
whilest we have being and our life in thee.

A concluding SONG.

NOw let our prayses

Be unto him that raises

Our mindes from thrall,

That mighty Giver,

Of life, yet ever Liver,

Who by his Call,

And sweet and lovely voice doth bring to light

That which lay hidden,

And guests are bidden,

To feast of things right sweet he doth invite,

Where we may eat and drink with great delight.

He hath prepared,

No delicates are spared,

For his great Feast;

And he is able

For to prepare a table

For every guest,

Even in the barren wildernessed lands,

There where no Water

Nor dewes do scatter,

But parcht with heat, and dry consuming Sands;

There, even there, his furnisht Table stands.

[Page 97]

In all our walkings,

And our poor childish tal kings,

If thou draw neer,

Our hearts with burning

Shall mitigate our mourning;

Thy presence dear

Shall make our Water pleasant wine to be:

The bread that's broken

Sall be a token,

And we shall know that it is thee, even thee,

Thy hands and feet are manifest to see.

Come you, beloved,

That have my words approved,

And drink your fill,

That nights of Sorrow

May be forgot to Morrow,

For comforts still.

Drinke and be drunken, best beloved Friends;

Cast out your fearing,

Heer's time of chearing;

This goodly Fountain streams of plenty Sends,

And on forsaken valleys down descends.

Avant Imposters,

Stand back Fantasticke boasters,

And cease your suit:

'Tis vain perswading,

No more of your invading,

Wee'l not dispute

What you can say of your beloved Peer;

For our beloved

Is best approved

To be the fairest and the loveliest deer;

The very thoughts of him our soul doth cheer,

[Page 98]

Then vain despairing,

Flee hence, and cease thy daring,

And mighty shew;

And leave thy prying,

Our liberty of denying;

Take this to know,

The Eagles way no man can understands,

his way in flying

Is past descrying;

His noble sight at foggy Mists ne're stands,

But through the clowds a speedy way commands.

Come, noble hearted,

Within whose breasts are darted

Joves Arrowes keen,

Whose deep Impressions,

And wounds that want expressions,

Are to be seen:

The eye, the eye that lovely piercing eye,

Content and willing

With Loves sweet killing;

In life and death it is no Miserie,

in loves sweet bonds and chaines to live and die.

Rejoyce ye valleys

And overtrodden allies,

The time is neer,

Though disrespected,

And seemingly neglected;

It shall appear;

God is as mighty in the lowest plaines,

where reeds are Shaken,

despis'd, forsaken,

Forlorne, and lost, as yet no hope retaines;

There, even there, his mighty presence raignes.

[Page 99]

Why stand ye gazing,

With doubtfull hearts amazing,

And lift up eyes?

Sweet Friends, your longing

And strong conceits come thronging,

With doubts arise:

Returne, returne, sweet friends, and wait a while;

Your too much loving

Things apt to moving,

May prove a snare the senses to beguile;

This lovely Flesh must suffer an exile.

Now the remainings

Of these our soules sustainings,

So rich in taste;

Those precious leavings

Of plentifull receivings,

Let us not waste:

Let's gather up the breakings, and behold

How Pans 
increasins,

and secret blessings,

Shall fill more baskets full then can be told:

His treasuere's full of all things new and old,

FINIS.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.