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CALME was the day, and through the trembling ayre | |
| Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play | |
| A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay | |
| Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre; | |
| When I, (whose sullein care, | 5 |
| Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay | |
| In princes court, and expectation vayne | |
| Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away, | |
| Like empty shadows, did afflict my brayne,) | |
| Walkt forth to ease my payne | 10 |
| Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes; | |
| Whose rutty bank, the which his river hemmes, | |
| Was paynted all with variable flowers, | |
| And all the meades adornd with dainty gemmes, | |
| Fit to decke maydens bowres, | 15 |
| And crowne their paramours | |
| Against the brydale day, which is not long: | |
| Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. * * * * * | |
| With that I saw two Swannes of goodly hewe | |
| Come softly swimming downe along the lee; | 20 |
| Two fairer birds I yet did never see; | |
| The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew, | |
| Did never whiter shew, | |
| Nor Jove himselfe, when he a swan would be | |
| For love of Leda, whiter did appeare; | 25 |
| Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he, | |
| Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near; | |
| So purely white they were, | |
| That even the gentle stream, the which them bare, | |
| Seem’d foule to them, and bad his billowes spare | 30 |
| To wet their silken feathers, least they might | |
| Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, | |
| And marre their beauties bright, | |
| That shone as heavens light, | |
| Against their brydale day, which was not long: | 35 |
| Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. * * * * * | |
| So ended she; and all the rest around | |
| To her redoubled that her undersong, | |
| Which said, their brydale daye should not be long: | |
| And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground | 40 |
| Their accents did resound. | |
| So forth those ioyous Birdes did passe along | |
| Adowne the lee, that to them murmurde low, | |
| As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong, | |
| Yet did by signes his glad affection show, | 45 |
| Making his streame run slow. | |
| And all the foule which in his flood did dwell | |
| Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell | |
| The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend | |
| The lesser stars. So they, enranged well, | 50 |
| Did on those two attend, | |
| And their best service lend | |
| Against their wedding day, which was not long: | |
| Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. | |
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| At length they all to mery London came, | 55 |
| To mery London, my most kyndly nurse, | |
| That to me gave this lifes first native sourse, | |
| Though from another place I take my name, | |
| An house of auncient fame: | |
| There when they came, whereas those bricky towres | 60 |
| The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde, | |
| Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers, | |
| There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde, | |
| Till they decayd through pride; | |
| Next whereunto there standes a stately place, | 65 |
| Where oft I gayned giftes and goodly grace | |
| Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell. | |
| Whose want too well now feels my freendles case; | |
| But ah! here fits not well | |
| Olde woes, but ioyes, to tell | 70 |
| Against the bridale daye, which is not long: | |
| Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song. * * * * * | |
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