That take a pleasure in my care,
And to procure these outward woes,

Have thus entrapped me unaware;

Thou should'st by much more careful be.
Since greater foes lay wait for thee.

Then when mew'd up in grates of steel,
Minding those joys mine eyes do miss,
Thou find'st no torment thou dost feel,
So grievous as privation is;

Muse how the damn'd, in flames that glow,
Pine in the loss of bliss they know.

170

Thou seest there's given so great might

To some that are but clay as I ;
Their very anger can affright,

Which, if in any thou espy,

Thus think; if mortals' frowns strike fear,
How dreadful will God's wrath appear?

By my late hopes that now are crost,
Consider those that firmer be:
And make the freedom I have lost,
A means that may remember thee:

Had Christ not thy redeemer bin,
What horrid thrall thou had'st been in.

180

These iron chains, these bolts of steel,
Which other poor offenders grind,
The wants and cares which they do feel,
May bring some greater thing to mind;
For by their grief thou shalt do well,
To think upon the pains of hell.

Or, when through me thou seest a man
Condemn'd unto a mortal death,
How sad he looks, how pale, how wan,
Drawing with fear his panting breath;

Think, if in that such grief thou see,
How sad will 'Go, ye cursed,' be.

Again, when he that fear'd to die
Past hope doth see his pardon brought,
Read but the joy that's in his eye,
And then convey it to thy thought;
There think, betwixt thy heart and thee,
How sweet will 'Come, ye blessed,' be.

Thus if thou do, though closed here,
My bondage I shall deem the less,

I neither shall have cause to fear,

Nor yet bewail my sad distress;

For whether live, or pine, or die,

We shall have bliss eternally.

Willy.

Trust me I see the cage doth some birds good,
And, if they do not suffer too much wrong,

L. 184. So 1622, '33. 'the bolts,' 1615, '20.

190

200

Will teach them sweeter descants than the wood: 210 Believe 't, I like the subject of thy song,

It shows thou art in no distempered mood :

But 'cause to hear the residue I long,

My sheep to-morrow I will nearer bring,

And spend the day to hear thee talk and sing.

Yet ere we part, Philarete, arede,

Of whom thou learn'dst to make such songs as these,

I never yet heard any shepherd's reed

Tune in mishap a strain that more could please;

Surely thou dost invoke at this thy need

220

Some power that we neglect in other lays :

For here's a name and words that but few swains Have mention'd at their meeting on the plains.

Philarete.

Indeed 'tis true; and they are sore to blame,
They do so much neglect it in their songs,
For thence proceedeth such a worthy fame,
As is not subject unto envy's wrongs:
That is the most to be respected name

Of our true Pan, whose worth sits on all tongues ;
And the most ancient shepherds use to praise 230
In sacred anthems, sung on holy days.

He that first taught his music such a strain
Was that sweet shepherd, who, until a king,

1. 216. Early eds. ... Roget, to me areed.'

1. 230. So 1615, '20. Eds. 1622, '33 read And what the

ancient ..

1. 231. So 1615, '20.

holy days.'

Eds. 1622, '33 read '... anthems upon

Kept sheep upon the honey-milky plain,
That is enrich'd by Jordan's watering;
He in his troubles eased the body's pain
By measures raised to the soul's ravishing :
And his sweet numbers only most divine
Gave the first being to this song of mine.

Willy.

Let his good spirit ever with thee dwell,
That I might hear such music every day.

Philarete.

240

Thanks, swains: but hark, thy wether rings his bell. And, swains, to fold, or homeward drive away.

Willy.

And yon goes Cuddy; therefore fare thou well;
I'll make his sheep for me a little stay;

And, if thou think it fit, I'll bring him too
Next morning hither.

Philarete.

Prithee, Willy, do.

1. 236. So 1633. Earlier eds. 'pains.'

1.

239.

being.'

So 1615, '20. Eds. 1622, '33 read 'Gave first the

1. 242, 3. So 1622, '33. Eds. 1615, '20 read :

Thanks; but would now it pleased thee to play.
Yet sure 'tis late; thy wether...'

THE SECOND ECLOGUE.

THE ARGUMENT.

Cuddy here relates, how all
Pity Philarete's thrall;
Who, requested, doth relate
The true cause of his estate;
Which broke off, because 'twas long,
They begin a three-man song.

WILLY. CUDDY. PHILARETE.

Willy.

Lo, Philaret, thy old friend here, and I,
Are come to visit thee in these thy bands,
Whilst both our flocks in an enclosure by
Do pick the thin grass from the fallowed lands.
He tells me thy restraint of liberty
Each one throughout the country understands,
And there is not a gentle-natured lad

On all these downs, but for thy sake is sad.

Argument. 11. 1, 2. So 1622, '33. Earlier eds. read:'Cuddy tells how all the swains

Pity Roget on the plains.'

1. 6. So 1622, '33. Earlier eds. 'three-mans song. 1. 1. So 1622, 33. Earlier eds. 'Roget, thy old friend Cuddy here and I.'