The Obsequy of faire Phillida
With the Shepheards and Nymphs lamentation
for her losse.
To a new Court Tune.
|
THe fairest Nymph that vallyes
|
Or Mountaines ever bred,
|
The shepheards joy,
|
So beautifull and coy,
|
Faire Phillida is dead;
|
On whom they oft have tended,
|
And carold on the Plaines
|
And for her sake
|
Sweet Roundelayes did make,
|
Admird by rurall Swaines:
|
But cruell Fates the beauties envying
|
Of this blooming Rose,
|
So ready to disclose,
|
With a frost unkindly
|
Nipt the bud untimely,
|
So away her glory goes.
|
The Sheep for woe goe bleating,
|
That they their Goddesse misse,
|
And sable Ewes,
|
By their mournfull shewes,
|
Her absence, cause of this;
|
The Nymphs leave off their dancing,
|
Pans Pipe of joy is cleft;
|
For greats his griefe,
|
He shunneth all reliefe,
|
Since she from him is reft.
|
Come, fatall Sisters, leave there your spooles
|
Leave mourning altogether,
|
That made this flower to wither:
|
Let envy, that foule Vipresse,
|
Put on a wreath of Cypresse,
|
Singing sad Dirges altogether.
|
Diana was chiefe mourner,
|
At these sad Obsequies,
|
Who with her traine
|
Went tripping ore the Plaine,
|
Singing dolefull Elegies:
|
Menalchus and Amintas,
|
And many Shepheards moe,
|
With mournefull Verse,
|
Did all attend her Hearse,
|
And in sable sadly goe:
|
Flora, the Goddes that used to beautify
|
Faire Phillis lovely bowers,
|
With sweet fragrant flowers,
|
Now her grave adorned,
|
And with flowers mourned.
|
Teares thereon in vaine she powres.
|
Venus alone triumphed,
|
To see this dismall day,
|
Who did despaire,
|
That Phillida the faire
|
Her lawes would nere obey.
|
The blinded boy his arrowes
|
And Darts were vainely spent:
|
Her heart, alas,
|
Inpenetrable was,
|
And to love would nere assent:
|
At which affront Citharea repined,
|
Cause death with his Dart,
|
Had pierct her tender heart:
|
But her noble spirit
|
Doth such joyes inherit,
|
Which from her shall nere depart.
|
|
|
|
|
|