And he himself seem'd made for merriment,
Merrily masking both in bower and hall;
There was no pleasure nor delightful play
When Astrophel so ever was away.

For he could pipe and dance, and carol sweet
Amongst the shepherds in their shearing feast,
As summer's lark, that with her song doth greet
The dawning day, forth coming from the east:
And lays of love he also could compose; :
Thrice happy she wlam he to praise did chose. I

Full many maidens often did him woo

Them to vouchsafe amongst his rhimes to name, Or make for them, as he was wont to do, For her that did with love his heart inflame; For which they promised to dight for him Gay chapelets of flowers and garlands trim...M

And many a nymph, both of the wood and brook
Soon as his oaten pipe began to shrill,

Both crystal wells and shady groves forsook,!!
To hear the charms of his enchanting skill;
And brought him presents, flowers if it were prime,
Or mellow fruit, if it were harvest-time.

But he for none of them did care a whit,
Yet wood-gods for them often sighed sore!

Nor for their gifts, unworthy of his wit,
Yet not unworthy of the country's store:
For one alone he car'd, for one he sigh❜d,
His life's desire, and his dear love's delight.

Stella the fair! the fairest star in sky,

As fair as Venus, or the fairest fair,

A fairer star saw never living eye,—

Shot her sharp-pointed beams through purest air; Her he did love, her he alone did honour,

His thoughts, his rhimes, his songs were all upon her.

To her he vow'd the service of his days,

On her he spent the riches of his wit,
For her he made hymns of immortal praise,
Of only her he sung, he thought, he writ;
Her, and but her, of love he worthy deemed,
For all the rest but little he esteemed.

Nor her with idle words alone he wooed,

And verses vain,-yet verses are not vain,But with brave deeds to her sole service vowed, And bold atchievements he did entertain; For both in deeds and words he nurtred was, Both wise and hardy,―too hardy alas !—

In wrestling nimble, and in running swift;

In 'shooting steady, and in swimming strong : Well made to strike, to throw, to leap, to lift, And all the sports that shepherds are among.

In every one he vanquished every one,

He vanquished all, and vanquished was of none.

Besides, in hunting such felicity,

Or rather infelicity, he found,

That

every

field and forest far away

He sought, where savage beasts do most abound; No beast so savage but he could it kill,

No chace so hard but he therein had skill.

Such skill, matcht with such courage as he had,

Did prick him forth with proud desire of praise

To seek abroad, of danger nought ydrad,

His mistress' name and his own fame to raise.

What needeth peril to be sought abroad,
Since round about us it doth make abode.

It fortuned as he that perilous game
In foreign soil pursued far away,
Into a forest wide and waste he came,
Where store he heard to be of savage prey:
So wide a forest, and so waste as this,
Not famous Ardeyn nor foul Arlo is.

There his well-woven toils and subtle trains
He laid, the brutish nation to enwrap; A
So well he wrought with practice and with pains,
That he of them great troops did soon entrap:
Full happy man, misweening much,-was he,
So rich a spoil within his power to see,

Eftsoons all heedless of his dearest hale,
Full greedily into the herd he thrust,

To slaughter them and work their final bale,

Lest that his toil should of their troops be burst. Wide wounds amonst them many a one he made, Now with his sharp boar-spear, now with his blade.

His care was all how he them all might kill,

That none might 'scape, so partial unto none,

Ill mind, to mind so much another's ill,

As to become unmindful of his own:

But pardon unto the cruel skies,

That from himself to them withdrew his eyes.

So as he rag'd amongst that beastly rout,

A cruel beast of most accursed brood,

Upon him turn',-despair makes cowards stout,

And with fell tooth accustomed to blood,
Launced his thigh with so mischievous might,
That it both bone and muscles rived quite.

So deadly was the dint and deep the wound,
And so huge streams of blood thereout did flow,
That he endured not the dreadful stound,

But on the cold drear earth himself did throw;
The whiles the captive herd his nets did rend,
And having none to let to wood did wend.

Ah! where were ye this while, his shepherd peer
To whom alive was nought so dear as he?
And ye, fair maids! the matches of his years,

Which in his grace did boast you most to b Ah! where were ye when he of you had need To stop his wound that wondrously did bleed?.

Ah! wretched boy! the shape of dreryhead,
And sad ensample of man's sudden end,
Full little faileth but thou shalt be dead,

Unpitied, unplain'd, of foe or friend;
Whilst none is nigh thine eyelids up to close,
And kiss thy lips like faded leaves of rose.

A sort of shepherds suing of the chace,
As they the forest ranged on a day,"

By fate or fortune came unto the place,"

Whereas the luckless boy yet bleeding lay ;

Yet bleeding lay, and yet would still have ble
Had not good hap those shepherds thither led.

They stopt his wound,--too late to stop it was
And in their arms then cott

Then as he will'd unto his loved lass,

His dearest love, him dolefully did bear:
The dolefulest bier that ever man did see.
Was Astrophel, but dearest unto me.

She, when she saw her love in such a plight,
With curdled blood and filthy gore deformed,
That wont to be with flowers and garlands dight,
And her dear favours dearly well adorned,
Her face the fairest face that eye might see,
She likewise did deform, like him to be.

Her yellow locks, that shone so bright and long,
As
sunny beams in fairest summer's day,
She fiercely tore, and with outrageous wrong
From her red cheeks the roses rent away;
And her fair breast, the treasury of joy,
She spoil'd thereof, and filled with annoy.

His pallid face, impictured with death,

She bathed oft with tears, and dried oft; And with sweet kisses suck the wasting-breath Out of his lips, like lillies, pale and soft; And oft she call'd to him who answer'd nought, But only by his looks did tell his thought.

The rest of her impatient regret,

And piteous moan the which she for him made, No tongue can tell, nor any forth can set,

But he whose heart like sorrow did invade: At last, when pain his vital powers had spent, His wasted life her weary lodge forwent.

Which when she saw, she stayed not a whit,

But after him did make untimely haste;