Classic Poem

[The Eighth Eclogue.]

CoridonCornix

Now rageth Titan fierce above,
his beams on earth do beat,
Whose hot reflection makes us feel
an over-fervent heat.
With fiery Dog he forward flames,
hot agues up he drives,
And sends them down, with boiling blood,
to shorten misers' lives.
Lo how the beasts lies under trees,
how all thing seeks the shade!
O blessed God, that some defence
for every hurt hast made,
Behold this pleasant broadleaved beech
and springing fountain clear,
Here shade enough, here water cold,
come, Cornix, rest we here,
And let us songs begin to sing;
our purse and hearts be light,
We fear not we, the tumbling world,
we break no sleeps by night.
Both place and time, my Coridon,
exhorteth me to sing,
Not of the wretched lovers' lives,
but of the immortal king,
Who gives us pasture for our beasts
and blesseth our increase;
By whom, while other cark and toil,
we live at home with ease;
Who keeps us down, from climbing high
where honour breeds debate,
And here hath granted us to live
in simple shepherd's state:
A life that sure doth far exceed
each other kind of life.
O happy state, that doth content,
how far be we from strife?
Of Him, therefore, me list to sing,
and of no wanton toys,
For Him to love, and Him to praise,
surmounts all other joys.
O shepherds, leave Cupido's camp,
the end whereof is vile;
Remove Dame Venus from your eyes
and harken here a while.
A God there is, that guides the globe,
and framed the fickle sphere,
And placed hath the stars above
that we do gaze on here,
By whom we live, (unthankful beasts)
by whom we have our health,
By whom we gain our happy states,
by whom we get our wealth.
A God, that sends us what we need,
a God, that us defends,
A God, from whom the angels high
on mortal man attends,
A God, of such a clemency,
that whoso Him doth love
Shall here be sure to rest a while,
and always rest above.
But we for Him do little care,
His hests we nought esteem,
But hunt for things that He doth hate:
most pleasant those do seem.
Unthankful misers! what do we?
What mean we thus to stray
From such a God, so merciful,
to walk a worser way?
May nought His benefits procure?
May nought His mercies move?
May nothing bind, but needs we must
give hate to Him for love?
O happy (ten times) is the man,
(a bird full rare to find)
That loveth God with all his heart
and keeps His laws in mind.
He shall be blest in all his works,
and safe in every time,
He shall sweet quietness enjoy,
while other smart for crime.
The threatening chances of the world
shall never him annoy;
When Fortune frowns on foolish men
he shall be sure to joy.
For why? the angels of the Lord
shall him defend always,
And set him free, at every harms
and hurts at all assays.
Even He that kept the Prophet safe
from mouths of lions wild,
And He that once preserved in flags
the seely sucking child,
The God that fed, by raven's bill,
the teacher of His word,
Shall him (no doubt) in safety keep
from famine, fire, and sword.
Not he, whom poets old have feigned
to live in heaven high,
Embracing boys (O filthy thing)
in beastly lechery;
Nor Juno, she (that wrinkled jade)
that queen of skies is called;
Nor sullen Saturn, churlish chuff,
with scalp of canker bald;
Nor fuming fool, with fiery face,
that moves the fighter's mind;
Nor Venus, she (that wanton wench)
that guides the shooter blind,
Can thee defend, as God will do,
for they were sinful fools,
Whom first the blind high-witted Greek
brought into wise men's schools.
No, none of these, but God alone,
ought worship for to have,
For they, for all their honour once,
rest yet in stinking grave.
Here hast thou heard the happy state
of them that live in fear
Of God, and love Him best: now list,
His foes' reward to hear,
And first know thou that every man
that from this God doth go,
And follow lust, him He accounts
to be His deadly foe.
This mighty King of whom we talk,
as He is merciful,
And suffers long, revenging slow,
so when we be thus dull
That we will not perceive in time
the goodness of His grace,
His favour straight He doth withdraw
and turns away His face,
And to Himself then doth He say,
" How long shall I permit
" These stubborn beasts for to rebel?
and shall I love them yet,
" That hate Me thus? or have I need
their loving minds to crave?
" I ask no more but only love,
and that I cannot have.
" Well, well, I will not care for them
that thus do Me despise;
" Let them go live even as they list,
I turn away Mine eyes."
When God hath thus said to Himself,
then doth the brainless fool
Cast bridle off, and out he runs,
neglecting virtue's school.
Then doth the devil give him line
and let him run at large,
And pleasure makes his mariner,
to row in vice's barge.
Then up the sails of wilfulness
he hoises high in haste,
And fond affection blows him forth,
a wind that Pluto placed.
Then cuts he swift the seas of sin,
and through the channel deep,
With joyful mind, he fleets apace,
whom pleasure brings asleep.
Then who so happy thinks himself?
Who dreams of joy but he?
" Tush, tush," saith he, " to think of God,
in age sufficeth me;
" Now will I pass my pleasant youth,
such toys becomes this age,
" And God shall follow me," saith he,
" I will not be His page.
" I will be proud, and look aloft;
I will my body deck
" With costly clothes above my state:
who then dare give me check?"
Garments sometime so guard a knave
that he dare mate a knight,
Yet have I seen a Nec in hemp
for checking often light.
" The Peacock's plume shall not me pass
that nature finely framed,
" For coloured silks shall set me forth,
that nature shall be shamed.
" My sword shall get me valiant fame,
I will be Mars outright,
" And Mars, you know, must Venus have,
To recreate his sprite.
" I will oppress the simple knave, —
shall slaves be saucy now?
" Nay, I will teach the needy dogs
with cap to crouch and bow."
Thus fareth he, and thus he lives,
no whit esteeming God,
In health, in joy, and lustiness,
free from the smarting rod;
But in the midst of all his mirth,
while he suspecteth least,
His happy chance begins to change
and eke his fleeting feast.
For death (that old devouring wolf)
whom goodmen nothing fear,
Comes sailing fast in galley black
and when he spies him near
Doth board him straight, and grapples fast,
and then begins the fight.
In riot leaps, as captain chief,
and from the mainmast right
He downward comes, and surfeit, then,
assaileth by and by,
Then vile diseases forward shoves,
with pains and grief thereby.
Life stands aloft, and fighteth hard,
but pleasure all aghast
Doth leave his oar, and out he flies;
then death approacheth fast,
And gives the charge so sore, that needs
must life begin to fly.
Then farewell all. The wretched man
with carrion corpse doth lie,
Whom Death himself flings overboard
amid the seas of sin:
The place where late he sweetly swam,
now lies he drowned in.
Continual torment him awaits,
(a monster vile to tell)
That was begot of due desert,
and reigneth now in hell;
With greedy mouth he always feeds
upon the sin-drowned soul,
Whose greedy paws do never cease
in sinful floods to prowl.
Lo! This the end of every such
as here lives lustily,
Neglecting God: thou seest, in vice
do live, in sin do die.
What should I speak of all their harms
that happens them in life?
Their conscience pricked, their barren blood,
their toil, their grief, their strife,
With mischiefs heaped many a one,
which they do never try
That love and fear the mighty God
that rules and reigns on high.
Too long it were to make discourse,
and Phoebus down descends,
And in the clouds his beams doth hide
which tempest sure portends.
Look how the beasts begin to fling
and cast their heads on high,
The heronshew mounts above the clouds,
the crows each where do cry;
All this shows rain: time bids us go;
come Coridon, away,
Take up thy staff, fetch in thy beasts,
let us go while we may,
Cornix, agreed, go thou before;
yon cursed bull of mine
I must go drive: he never bides
among my father's kine.
Finis Eglogae octavae.