Ah! if I might

But gain her sight,

And show her ere I die my wretched case:
O then should I

Contented die :

But ah! I die, and hope not so much grace."

With that his fainting legs to shrink begun,

And let him sink with ghastly look to ground; And there he lay, as though his life were done, Till that his dog, seeing that woeful stound,

With piteous howling, kissing, and with scraping,
Brought him again from that sweet sour escaping.

Then 'gan his tears so swiftly for to flow,
As forced his eyelids for to give them way;
Then blust'ring sighs too boist'rously 'gan blow,
As his weak lips could not his fury stay;"
And inward grief withal so hugely swell'd,
As tears, sighs, grief, had soon all words expell'd.

At last, when floods of tears began to cease,
And storms of weary sighs more calm to blow
As he went on with words his grief to ease, *
And remnant of his broken plaint to show,

And their weak lips could not his fury stay.-edit. 1602.
At last, when as his tears began to cease,

And weary sighs more calmly for to blow,

As he began with words his grief to ease.-edit. 1602.

He 'spy'd the sky o'erspread with nightly clouds; So home he went, his flock and him to shroud.

EUBULUS HIS EMBLEM.

UNI MIHI PERGAMA RESTANT.

FRANCIS DAVISON.

ECLOGUE

ENTITLED CUDDY.t

A LITTLE herdgroom, for he was no bett',
When course of years return'd the pleasant spring,
At break of day, withouten farther let,

Cast with himself his flock afield to bring;

And for they had so long been pent with pain,
At sight of sun they seem'd to live again.

Such was the flock, all bent to browse and play,
But nothing such their master was to see :
Down hung his drooping head like rainy day;
His cheeks with tears like springs bedewed be;
His wringed hand such silent moan did make,
Well may you guess he was with love y’take.

The while his flock went feeding on the green,
And wantonly for joy of summer play'd;
All in despight, as if he n'ould be seen,
He cast himself to ground full ill appay'd.

t Not inserted in the edition of 1602.

66

Should seem their pleasance made him more com

plain,

For joy in sight, not felt, is double pain.

Unhappy boy! why livest thou still," quoth he, "And hast thy deadly wound so long ago? What hope of afterhap sustaineth thee,

As if there might be found some ease of woe? Nay, better die ten thousand times than live, Since every hour new cause of death doth give.

u

"The joyful Sun, whom cloudy Winter's spight
Had shut from us in watery fishes haske,
Returns again to lend the world his light,
And red as rose begins his yearly task:
His fiery steeds the steepy welkin beat,
And both the horns of climbing Bull do heat.

"But ah! no Sun of grace appears to me;

Close hid she lies, from whom I should have light;

The clouds of black disdain so foggy be,

That blind I lie, poor boy, bereft of sight:

And yet I see the Sun I seek to find;

And yet the more I see, the more am blind.

u This word was frequently used for the constellation Pisces. See Nares' Glossary, in which this line is cited in proof of it.

"Thrice happy ground! whom, spoiled with winter's

rage,

The heat of pleasant spring renews again :
Unhappy I, who, in my spring of age,

The frost of cold despair hath well nigh slain ;
How shall I bide your stormy winter's smart,
When spring itself hath froze my bloodless heart?

"I see the beauty of thy flow'rs renew ;

Thy mantle green with sundry colours spread : Thou see'st in me a change of former hue, Paleness for white, blackness for lively red.

What hope of harvest fruit, or summer flowers, Since that my spring is drown'd with tears like showers?

"And last of all, but liev'st of all to me,

Thou leany flock that didst of late lament,

And witness wast for shepherds all to see ;
Thy knees so weak, thy fleece so rough and rent,
That thou with pain didst pine away unfed,
All for thy master was with love misled.

"Thou 'ginst at erst forget thy former state,

And range amid the busks thyself to feed : Fair fall thee, little flock! both rathe and late; Was never lover's sheep that well did speed. Thou free, I bound; thou glad, I pine in pain ; I strive to die, and thou to live full fain.