For who's he, that's not ravish'd with delight Troy walls, or Virgil's sweet Parthenope? Rura mihi et Silentium. [From 11 stanzas.] WERT thou thy life at liberty to choose, And, as thy birth, so, hadst thy being free, Thy solitary Academe should be Some shady grove upon the Thames' fair side; Such as we may near princely Richmond see, Or where along doth silver Severn slide, Or Avon courts fair Flora in her pride. There shouldst thou sit at long-desired rest, And think thyself above a monarch blest. There might'st thou sing thy sweet Creator's praise, And turn at quiet o'er some holy book, Or tune the accent of thy harmless lays Whiles round about thy greedy eye doth look, Observing wonders in some flower by, This bent, that leaf, this worm, that butterfly. Or, wouldst thou music to delight thine ear, Some mateless dove doth murmur out the base. * * * * Nor princes' richest arras may compare With some small spot where Nature's skill is shown, Perfuming sweetly all the neighbour air, While thousand colours in a night are blown : Here's a light crimson, there a deeper one, A maiden's blush, here purples, there a white, Then all commingled for our more delight. Withal, as in some rare limn'd book, we find The camomile, we should be patient still, The woodbine, that we should our friendship hold, Our hope the savory in the bitterest cold. Yet, love the city, as the kindly nurse Of all good arts, and fair civility; Where, though with good be intermixt the worse, That most disturb our sweet tranquillity, Content thyself, till thine ability And better hap shall answer thy desire. The Author's Conclusion. [From 23 stanzas.] As then the sky was calm and fair, The winds did cease, and clouds were fled, Aurora scatter'd Phoebus' hair, New risen from her rosy bed: At whose approach the harlot strew Both mead and mountain with her flowers, While Zephyr sweetest odours threw About the fields and leavy bowers. "Flora, sometime a famous harlot in Rome, and after "goddess of flowers." The woods and waters left their sound, The winged people perch'd above; Her wonted plaints unto the Morn, That seem'd indeed her state to rue By shedding tears upon the thorn. When I, as other, taking rest Was show'd, methought, a goodly plain, With all the store of Nature blest, And situate within the main ; With rocks about environ❜d quite, But inward round in rows there stood, As well for profit as delight, The trees of orchard and the wood. The builder acorn, long ago To Dodonæan Jove adjoin'd; Nor wanting was, nor that same tree 1 That bears the stain in fruit and seeds Of Thisbe's woful tragedy. "The mulberry." Th' unblasted bay, to conquests due, I With cherries, known no long time since; The philibert, that loves the vale, * Within there was a circlet round, For roses by did blush for shame, In robe of woven silver fine, And deepest crimson she was clad ; "Erasmus-affirmeth cherries to have been known to "these parts of Europe little above two or three hundred years, being first brought from Cerasuntis, a city of Pontus, whence they have their name." 66 66 2" The filbert, so named of Philibert, a king of France, "who caused by art sundry kinds to be brought forth." |