Author: liza.blake

Give me a² free and noble style that goes³
In an uncurbed strain, though wild it shows:⁴
Though⁵ it runs wild about,⁶ it cares not where,
It shows more courage than it doth of fear.
Give me a style that Nature frames, not Art,               5
For Art doth seem to take the pedant’s part.
And that seems noble, which is easy, free,
And not bound up⁷ with o’ernice pedantry.

Betwixt two ridges of plowed land sat¹ Wat,
Whose body, pressed to th’earth, lay close and squat.²
His nose upon his two fore-feet close lies,³
Glaring obliquely with his great grey eyes.⁴
His head he always sets⁵ against the wind;                            5
If turn his tail, his hairs blow up behind⁶
And make him to get cold, but he, being wise,⁷
Doth keep⁸ his coat still down, so warm he lies.
Thus rests he⁹ all the day till th’sun¹⁰ doth set;
Then up he riseth,¹¹ his relief¹² to get,                                    10
Walking about¹³ until the sun doth rise,
Then coming back in’s former posture lies.¹⁴
At last, poor Wat was found, as he there lay,
By huntsmen which came with their dogs that way,¹⁵
Whom seeing, he got up, and fast did run,¹⁶                         15
Hoping some ways the cruel dogs to shun.
But they by nature have¹⁷ so quick a scent,
That by their nose they traced¹⁸ what way he went,
And with their deep, wide mouths set forth a cry,
Which answered was by echoes¹⁹ in the sky.                        20
Then Wat was struck with terror and with fear,
Seeing each shadow, thought the dogs were there,²⁰
And running out some distance from their cry,²¹
To hide himself his thoughts he did employ.²²
Under a clod of earth in sand-pit wide                                    25
Poor Wat sat close, hoping himself to hide.
There long he had not been,²³ but straight in’s²⁴ ears
The winding horns and crying dogs he hears.
Then starting up²⁵ with fear, he leap’d, and such²⁶
Swift speed he made, the ground he scarce did touch.²⁷    30
Into a great thick wood straight ways he got,²⁸
And²⁹ underneath a broken bough he sat,³⁰
Where³¹ every leaf that with the wind did shake
Did bring³² such terror, that his heart did³³ ache.
That place he left; to champaign plains he went,                 35
Winding about for to deceive their scent,
And while they snuffling were to find his track,
Poor Wat, being weary, his swift pace did slack.
On his two hinder legs for ease he sat;³⁴
His fore-feet rubbed his face from dust and sweat.             40
Licking his feet, he wiped his ears so clean
That none could tell that Wat had hunted been.
But casting round about his fair grey³⁵ eyes,
The hounds in full career he near him spies.
To Wat it was so terrible a sight                                               45
Fear gave him wings, and made his body light:
Though weary was³⁶ before, by running long,
Yet now his breath he never felt more strong,
Like those that dying are, think health returns,
When ’tis but a faint blast, which life out burns,                  50
For spirits seek to guard the heart about,
Striving with Death, but Death doth quench them out.
The hounds³⁷ so fast came on, and with such cry,³⁸
That he no hopes had³⁹ left, nor help could ’spy.⁴⁰
With that, the winds did pity poor Wat’s case,                      55
And with their breath the scent blew from that⁴¹ place;
Then every⁴² nose was⁴³ busily employed,
And every nostril was⁴⁴ set open wide,
And every head did⁴⁵ seek a several way
To find the⁴⁶ grass or track where the scent⁴⁷ lay.                60
For witty industry is never slack;⁴⁸
’Tis like to witchcraft, and⁴⁹ brings lost things back.
But⁵⁰ though the wind had tied the scent up close,
A busy dog thrust in his snuffling nose
And drew it out, with it⁵¹ did foremost run;                          65
Then horns blew loud, for th’rest⁵² to follow on.
The great slow-hounds, their throats did set a base;
The fleet swift hounds, as tenors next in place;
The little beagles did⁵³ a trebble sing,
And through the air their voices⁵⁴ round did ring,⁵⁵           70
Which made such⁵⁶ consort as they ran along,
That, had they spoken words, ’t had been a song.⁵⁷
The horns kept time; the men did⁵⁸ shout for joy,
And seemed most valiant,⁵⁹ poor Wat to⁶⁰ destroy,
Spurring their horses to a full career,                                     75
Swam⁶¹ rivers deep, leaped⁶² ditches without fear,
Endangered⁶³ life and limbs, so fast they’d⁶⁴ ride,
Only to see how patiently Wat died.
At last⁶⁵ the dogs so near his heels did get,
That they⁶⁶ their sharp teeth in⁶⁷ his breech did set.           80
Then tumbling down he fell,⁶⁸ with weeping eyes
Gave⁶⁹ up his ghost, and thus, poor Wat, he dies.
Men, hooping loud, such acclamations made⁷⁰
As if the Devil they imprisoned had,⁷¹
When they did but⁷² a shiftless creature kill;                        85
To hunt there needs no valiant soldier’s skill.
But men do⁷³ think that exercise and toil,
To keep their health, is best which makes most spoil,
Thinking that food and nourishment so good
Which doth proceed from others’⁷⁴ flesh and blood.           90
When they do lions, wolves, bears, tigers see
To kill poor⁷⁵ sheep, they say⁷⁶ they cruel be,
But for themselves, all creatures think too few,
For luxury, wish God would make more⁷⁷ new,
As if God did make⁷⁸ creatures for man’s meat,                    95
To give⁷⁹ them life and sense, for man to eat,
Or else for sport or recreation’s sake,
Destroy⁸⁰ those lives that God saw good to⁸¹ make,
Making their stomachs graves, which full they fill
With murthered bodies, which⁸² in sport they kill.              100
Yet man doth think himself so gentle, mild,⁸³
When of all creatures he’s most cruel, wild,⁸⁴
And is so proud, thinks only he shall live,⁸⁵
That God a godlike nature did him⁸⁶ give,
And that all creatures for his sake alone                                 105
Were made,⁸⁷ for him to tyrannize upon.

There was a stag did in the forest lie,
Whose neck was long, whose horns were² branched up high.
His haunch was broad, sides large, and back was long;
His legs were nervous, and his joints were strong.
His hair lay sleek and smooth; he was so fair,³                     5
None in the forest might with him compare.⁴
In summer’s heat he in cool brakes him lay,⁵
Which, being high, did keep the sun away;⁶
In evenings cool and⁷ dewy mornings new⁸
Would he rise up,⁹ and all the forest view.¹⁰                          10
Then walking to some clear and crystal brook,¹¹
Not for to drink, but on his horns to look,
Taking such pleasure in his stately crown,
His pride forgot¹² that dogs might pull him down.
From thence he to¹³ a shady wood did go,                             15
Where straightest pines and tallest cedars grow;
And upright olives, which th’loving vine oft twines;¹⁴
And slender birch bows head¹⁵ to golden mines;¹⁶
Small aspen stalk which shakes like agues cold,
That from perpetual motion never hold;                                20
The sturdy oak which on the seas¹⁷ doth ride;
Fir, which tall masts doth make, where sails are tied;
The weeping maple; and the poplar green,
Whose cooling buds in salves have healing been;
The fatting¹⁸ chestnut; and the hazel small;                          25
The smooth-rind beech, which groweth large and tall;
The loving myrtle fit for¹⁹ amorous kind;
The yielding willow, for²⁰ inconstant mind;
The cypress sad, which makes the funeral hearse;
And sycamores, where lovers write their verse;                  30
And juniper, which gives a pleasant smell;
And²¹ many more, which were too long to tell.
Round²² from their sappy roots sprout branches small;
Some call it underwood, that’s never tall.
There walking through, the stag was hindered much;        35
The bending twigs his horns did often touch.²³
While he on²⁴ tender leaves and buds did browse,
His eyes were troubled with the broken boughs.
Then straight he sought²⁵ this labyrinth to²⁶ unwind,
But²⁷ hard it was his first way out to find.                             40
Unto this wood a rising hill was near;²⁸
The sweet wild thyme and marjoram grew there,²⁹
And winter sav’ry,³⁰ which was never set,
Of³¹ which the stag took great delight³² to eat.
But looking down upon³³ the valleys low,                             45
He saw there³⁴ grass and cowslips thick did³⁵ grow,
And springs, which digged³⁶ themselves a passage out,
Much like as serpents wind each field about,
Rising in winter high, do³⁷ overflow
The flow’ry banks, but make³⁸ the soil to³⁹ grow.                50
And⁴⁰ as he went, thinking therein to feed,
He ’spied⁴¹ a field which sowed was with wheat seed.
The blades were grown a handful high and more,
Which sight to⁴² taste did soon invite him o’er.
In haste he went, fed⁴³ full, then down did lie;⁴⁴                 55
The owner, coming there, did him espy,⁴⁵
Straight called his dogs to hunt him from that place;
At last it came⁴⁶ to be a forest chase.
The chase grew hot; the stag apace did run;
Dogs followed close, and men for sport did come.⁴⁷            60
At last a troop of men, horse, dogs did meet,
Which made the hart to try his nimble feet.
Full swift he was; his horns he bore up high;
The⁴⁸ men did shout; the dogs ran yelping by.
And bugle horns with several notes did blow;                      65
Huntsmen to cross the stag did sideways go.
The horses beat their hooves against dry ground,
Raising such clouds of dust, their ways scarce found.
Their sides ran down with sweat, as if they were
New come from wat’ring,⁴⁹ dropping⁵⁰ every hair.             70
The dogs, their tongues out of their mouths hung long;
Their sides did like a feverish pulse beat strong;⁵¹
Their short ribs heaved⁵² up high, then fell down⁵³ low,
As bellows draw in wind that they may⁵⁴ blow.
Men tawny grew; the sun their skins did turn;                     75
Their mouths were dry; their bowels felt to burn.
The stag, so hot as coals when kindled through,⁵⁵
Yet swiftly ran when he the dogs did view.⁵⁶
Coming at length unto a river’s side,
Whose current flowed as with a falling tide,                         80
There he leaped in, thinking some while to stay⁵⁷
To wash his sides, his burning heat t’allay,⁵⁸
Hoping⁵⁹ the dogs could not in water⁶⁰ swim,
But was⁶¹ deceived: the dogs do enter in.⁶²
Like fishes, tried to swim in water low,⁶³                               85
But⁶⁴ out, alas, his horns too high did show.⁶⁵
The⁶⁶ dogs were covered over head and ears;⁶⁷
No part is seen, only their nose appears.⁶⁸
The stag and river like a race did show,
He striving still the river⁶⁹ to outgo,                                        90
Whilst men and horses down the banks did run,⁷⁰
Encouraging the dogs to follow on,
Where in the water,⁷¹ like a looking-glass,
He by reflection saw⁷² their shadows pass.
Fear did his breath cut⁷³ short; his limbs did⁷⁴ shrink        95
Like those the cramp⁷⁵ makes to th’bottom⁷⁶ sink.
Thus out of breath, no longer could he stay,
But leaped⁷⁷ on land and swiftly ran⁷⁸ away.
Change gave him⁷⁹ ease, ease strength; in strength hope lives;
Hope joys the heart, and joy light heels⁸⁰ still gives.⁸¹        100
His feet did like⁸² a feathered arrow fly,⁸³
Or like a wingèd bird, that mounts the sky.⁸⁴
The dogs, like ships that sail with wind and tide,
Which⁸⁵ cut the air, and waters deep divide,
Or like as greedy merchants, which for gain⁸⁶                     105
Venture their life, and traffic on the main.⁸⁷
The hunters, like to boys which, without fear,⁸⁸
To see a sight will hazard life that’s dear,⁸⁹
Which sad become⁹⁰ when mischief takes not⁹¹ place,
And⁹² out of countenance, as with disgrace,                         110
But when they see a ruin and a fall,
Return⁹³ with joy, as if they’d conquered⁹⁴ all.
And thus did their three several passions meet:⁹⁵
First the desire to catch the dogs made fleet,⁹⁶
Then fear the stag made⁹⁷ run, his life to save,                    115
Whilst men for love of mischief digged⁹⁸ his grave.
The angry dust flew in each face about,⁹⁹
As if ’twould with revenge their eyes put out,¹⁰⁰
Yet they all¹⁰¹ fast went on with a huge cry.¹⁰²
The stag no hope had left, nor help did ’spy;¹⁰³                    120
His heart so heavy grew with grief and care,
That his small feet his body scarce could¹⁰⁴ bear.
Yet loath to die or yield to foes was he,
And¹⁰⁵ to the last would strive for victory.
’Twas not for want of courage he did run,                             125
But that an army against one did come.¹⁰⁶
Had he the valor of bold Caesar¹⁰⁷ stout,
Yet yield he must¹⁰⁸ to them, or die no doubt.
Turning his head, as if he dared their spite,
Prepared himself against them all to fight.                            130
Single he was; his horns were all his helps
To guard him from a multitude of whelps.
Besides, a company of men were there,
If dogs should fail, to strike him everywhere.
But to the last his fortune he’d¹⁰⁹ try out;                               135
Then men and dogs did¹¹⁰ circle him about.
Some bit; some barked; all plied¹¹¹ him at the bay,
Where with his horns he tossèd¹¹² some away.
But Fate his thread had spun; he¹¹³ down did fall,
Shedding some tears at his own funeral.                                140

There was an island, rich by Nature’s grace;
In all the world it was the sweetest place,
Surrounded with the seas, whose waves don’t miss²
To do her homage, and her feet do kiss.³
Each wave did seem⁴ by turn to⁵ bow down low,                   5
And proud to touch her as they overflow.⁶
Armies of waves in troops high tides brought⁷ on,
Whose wat’ry arms did⁸ glister like⁹ the sun,
And on their backs burthens of ships did¹⁰ bear,
Placing them in her havens with great care.¹¹                         10
Not mercenary, for no pay they’d have,¹²
Yet¹³ as her guard did¹⁴ watch to keep her safe,
And in a ring they circled¹⁵ her about,
Strong as a wall, to keep her foes without.¹⁶
The winds did serve her, and on clouds did¹⁷ ride,                 15
Blowing their trumpets loud on every side;
Serving¹⁸ as scouts, they searched¹⁹ in every lane,
And galloped²⁰ in the forests,²¹ fields, and plain.
While she did please the gods, she did live safe,²²
And they all kind of pleasures to her gave.²³                            20
For all this place was²⁴ fertile, rich, and fair;
Both woods and hills and dales in prospects were.²⁵
Birds pleasure took,²⁶ and with delight did²⁷ sing;
In praises of this isle the woods did²⁸ ring.
Trees thrived with joy, for she their roots well fed,²⁹             25
And,³⁰ tall with pride, their tops did³¹ overspread,
Danced³² with the winds when they did³³ sing and blow,
Played³⁴ like a wanton kid, or a³⁵ swift roe.
Their several branches several birds did³⁶ bear,
Which hopped and skipped,³⁷ and always merry were;³⁸     30
Their leaves did³⁹ wave, and, rushing, make a noise,
And⁴⁰ many ways strived to express⁴¹ their joys.
All⁴² flowers there looked⁴³ fresh and gay with mirth,
Whilst they were⁴⁴ danced upon the lap of Earth.
Th’isle was their mother,⁴⁵ they her children sweet,               35
Born from her loins, got by Apollo great,
Who dressed and pruned them often with great care,⁴⁶
And washed their leaves with dew to make them fair,⁴⁷
Which being done,⁴⁸ he wiped⁴⁹ those drops away
With webs of heat,⁵⁰ which he weaves every day,                   40
Paint⁵¹⁵² them with several colors intermixed,
Veiled⁵³ them with shadows every leaf betwixt.
Their heads he dress’d, their hairy leaves spread out,⁵⁴
Wreathed round their crowns his golden beams about,⁵⁵
For he this isle esteemed⁵⁶ above the rest;                                45
Of all his wives he had, he loved⁵⁷ her best.
Daily he did present her with some gift:⁵⁸
Twelve ells of light, to make her smocks⁵⁹ for shift,
Which, every time he came, he put⁶⁰ on clean,⁶¹
And changèd oft, that she may lovely seem.⁶²                          50
And when he from her went,⁶³ the world to see,
He left⁶⁴ his sister⁶⁵ for her⁶⁶ company,
Whose name is Cynthia⁶⁷—though pale, yet clear,
Which makes her always in dark clouds appear.
Besides, he left⁶⁸ his stars to wait, for fear⁶⁹                             55
His isle too sad should be⁷⁰ when he’s not there,
And from his bounty clothed⁷¹ them all with light,
Which makes them twinkle in a frosty night.
He never brought⁷² hot beams to do her harm,
Nor let⁷³ her take a cold, but lapped⁷⁴ her warm;                    60
He⁷⁵ mantles rich of equal heat o’erspread,⁷⁶
And covered⁷⁷ her with color crimson red.
He gave⁷⁸ another o’er her head to lie—
The colour is a pure bright azure sky—
And with soft air did⁷⁹ line them all within,                              65
Like⁸⁰ furs in winter, in summer satin thin.
With silver clouds he fringèd⁸¹ them about,
And⁸² spangled meteors glist’ring hung⁸³ without.
Thus gave her⁸⁴ change, lest she⁸⁵ should weary grow,
Or think them old, and so away them throw.                           70
Nature adorned⁸⁶ this island all throughout
With landscapes, riv’lets, prospects round about;⁸⁷
There hills⁸⁸ o’ertopped⁸⁹ the dales, which level be,⁹⁰
Covered⁹¹ with cattle feeding eagerly.⁹²
Grass grew⁹³ up even to the belly high,                                     75
Where beasts that chew their cud lay pleasantly,⁹⁴
Whisking their tails about, the flies to beat,
Or else to cool them from the sultry heat.
Nature, willing to th’gods her love⁹⁵ to show,
Sent plenty in, like Nile’s great overflow,                                  80
And temperate seasons gave,⁹⁶ and equal lights:
Warm⁹⁷ sunshine days, and dewy moonshine nights.
And in this pleasant island, peace did dwell;
No noise of war or sad tale could it tell.

This island lived in peace full many a day,
So long as she unto the gods did pray.
But she grew proud with plenty and with ease,
Adored herself, and² did the gods displease.
She flung their altars down, her own set up,³                           5
And she alone would have divine worship.⁴
The gods grew angry, and commanded Fate
To alter and to ruin quite the state.
For they had changed their mind of late, they said,
And did repent unthankful man th’had made.                         10
Fates wondered much to hear what said the gods,
That they and mortal men⁵ were at great odds,
And found them apt to change, thought it did show⁶
As if the gods did not poor men foreknow.⁷
“For why,” said they, “if men do evil grow,                                15
The gods, foreseeing all, men’s hearts did⁸ know
Long, long before they did man first create;⁹
If so, what need they change or alter fate?
’Twas in their pow’r¹⁰ to make them good or ill;
Wherefore,¹¹ men cannot do just what they will.                    20
Then why do gods complain against them so,
Since men are made by them such ways to go?
If evil power hath gods to oppose,
Two¹² equal deities it plainly shows;
The one pow’r cannot keep obedience long,¹³                          25
If disobedient power¹⁴ be as strong.
And,¹⁵ being ignorant how men will prove,
Know not¹⁶ how strong or long will last their love.”¹⁷
But may’t not be the course of gods’ decree¹⁸
To love obedience whensoe’er it be?¹⁹                                       30
They from the first a changing power create,²⁰
And for that work make²¹ destiny and fate.²²
It is the mind of man²³ that’s apt to range;
The minds of gods are not subject to change.²⁴
Then did the Fates unto the planets go,                                      35
And told them they malignity must throw
Into this island, for the gods would²⁵ take
Revenge on them who did²⁶ their laws forsake.
With that, the planets drew, like²⁷ with a screw,
Bad vapors from the Earth, and then did view²⁸                      40
What place to squeeze that poison, in²⁹ which all
The venom was, that’s got from the world’s ball,³⁰
Which³¹ through men’s veins, like molten lead, it came,
And did like oil their spirits all inflame,³²
Where malice boiled with rancor, spleen, and spite.               45
In war and fraud, injustice took delight,
Thinking which way their lusts they might fulfill,³³
Committed thefts, rapes, murthers at their will;³⁴
Parents and children did unnat’ral grow,³⁵
And every friend was turned a cruel foe;³⁶                               50
Nay,³⁷ innocency no protection had;
Religious men were thought to be stark mad;
In witches, wizards they did³⁸ put their trust;
Extortions, bribes were thought to be most just;
Like Titans’ race, all in a tumult rose,³⁹                                      55
Blasphemous words against high Heaven throws.⁴⁰
The gods⁴¹ in rage unbound⁴² the winds to⁴³ blow
In foreign nations,⁴⁴ formerly their foe.
Where they did plant themselves, no Britons live,⁴⁵
For why the gods their lives and land them give.⁴⁶                  60
Compassion wept, and Virtue wrung her hands
To see that right was banished from their lands.
Thus winds and seas, the planets, fates, and all
Conspired to work her ruin and her fall.
But those that keep the laws of God on high                              65
Shall live in peace, in graves shall quiet lie.⁴⁷
And ever after like the gods shall be,
Enjoy all pleasure, know no misery.