By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd, So vnlike them as though not theirs they were, Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue, Of those braue Muses that their Country song, But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue The right and honour that to them belong; This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed; The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred. 120 I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke: And thus am light into Elizium, To whose straite search I wholly me betooke. _Naijs._ Poore silly creature, come along with vs, Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields: Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus, This place content in all abundance yeelds. We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring, Of _Ioues_ deare Daughters, where in shades they sit, 130 Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing, Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit: _Claia._ Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise: Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes. _Corbilus._ Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues, Who thus set vertue and desert at nought: Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues, And some like beasts in markets sold and bought. 140 Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care, That haue no vnderstanding of their state: For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare, That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate. And to Elizium be thou welcome then, Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare, By that vile nation captiued againe, That many a glorious age their captiues were. SONGS FROM THE 'SHEPHERD'S GARLAND' [From the Edition of 1593] The Gods delight, the heauens hie spectacle, Earths greatest glory, worlds rarest miracle. Fortunes fay'rst mistresse, vertues surest guide, Loues Gouernesse, and natures chiefest pride. Delights owne darling, honours cheefe defence, Chastities choyce, and wisdomes quintessence. Conceipts sole Riches, thoughts only treasure, Desires true hope, Ioyes sweetest pleasure. Mercies due merite, valeurs iust reward, Times fayrest fruite, fames strongest guarde. 10 Yea she alone, next that eternall he, The expresse Image of eternitie. _From Eclogue ij_ Tell me fayre flocke, (if so you can conceaue) The sodaine cause of my night-sunnes eclipse, If this be wrought me my light to bereaue, By Magick spels, from some inchanting lips Or vgly _Saturne_ from his combust sent, This fatall presage of deaths dreryment.