Classic Poem

Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound,
?Of all that mote delight a dainty ear,
Such as at once might not on living ground,
?Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere:
?Right hard it was, for wight, which did it hear,
To read, what manner music that mote be;
?For all that pleasing is to living ear,
Was there consorted in one harmony,
Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.
The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade,
?Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet;
Th' angelical soft trembling voices made
?To th' instruments divine respondence meet;
?The silver sounding instruments did meet
With the bass murmur of the waters' fall;
?The waters' fall with difference discreet,
Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call;
The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
There, whence that music seemed heard to be,
?Was the fair witch herself now solacing,
With a new lover, whom through sorcery
?And witchcraft she from far did thither bring:
?There she had him now laid a-slumbering,
In secret shade, after long wanton joys;
?Whilst round about them pleasantly did sing
Many fair ladies, and lascivious boys,
That ever mixed their song with light licentious toys.
And all that while, right over him she hung,
?With her false eyes fast fixed in his sight,
As seeking medicine, whence she was stung,
?Or greedily depasturing delight:
?And oft inclining down with kisses light,
For fear of waking him, his lips bedewed,
?And through his humid eyes did suck his spright,
Quite molten into lust and pleasure lewd;
Wherewith she sighed soft, as if his case she rued.
The whiles some one did chant this lovely lay:
?‘Ah see, whoso fair thing dost fain to see,
In springing flower the image of thy day;
?Ah see the virgin rose, how sweetly she
?Doth first peep forth with bashful modesty,
That fairer seems, the less ye see her may;
?Lo see soon after, how more bold and free
Her bared bosom she doth broad display;
Lo see soon after, how she fades, and falls away.
‘So passeth, in the passing of a day,
?Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower,
Ne more doth flourish after first decay,
?That erst was sought to deck both bed and bower,
?Of many a lady, and many a paramour:
Gather therefore the rose, whilst yet is prime,
?For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower;
Gather the rose of love, whilst yet is time,
Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime.’
He ceased, and then 'gan all the quire of birds
?Their diverse notes t' attune unto his lay,
As in approvance of his pleasing words.
?The constant pair heard all, that he did say,
?Yet swerved not, but kept their forward way,
Through many covert groves, and thickets close,
?In which they creeping did at last display
That wanton lady, with her lover loose,
Whose sleepy head she in her lap did soft dispose.
Upon a bed of roses she was laid,
?As faint through heat, or dight to pleasant sin,
And was arrayed, or rather disarrayed,
?All in a veil of silk and silver thin,
?That hid no whit her alabaster skin,
But rather shewed more white, if more might be:
?More subtle web Arachne cannot spin,
Nor the fine nets, which oft we woven see
Of scorched dew, do not in th' air more lightly flee.
Her snowy breast was bare to ready spoil
?Of hungry eyes, which n'ote therewith be filled,
And yet through languor of her late sweet toil,
?Few drops, more clear then nectar, forth distilled,
?That like pure orient pearls adown it trilled,
And her fair eyes, sweet smiling in delight,
?Moistened their fiery beams, with which she thrilled
Frail hearts, yet quenched not; like starry light,
Which, sparkling on the silent waves, does seem more bright.
The young man sleeping by her seemed to be
?Some goodly swain of honourable place,
That certes it great pity was to see
?Him his nobility so foul deface:
?A sweet regard, and amiable grace,
Mixed with manly sternness did appear,
?Yet sleeping, in his well proportioned face,
And on his tender lips the downy hair
Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossoms bear.
His warlike arms, the idle instruments
?Of sleeping praise, were hung upon a tree,
And his brave shield, full of old monuments,
?Was foully razed, that none the signs might see;
?Ne for them, ne for honour cared he,
Ne ought, that did to his advancement tend,
?But in lewd loves, and wasteful luxury,
His days, his goods, his body he did spend:
O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend!