Upon your bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song."

ΙΙΟ

So ended she; and all the rest around
To her redoubled that her undersong,
Which said their bridal day should not be long:
And gentle Echo from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.

So forth those joyous birds did pass along,
Adown the Lee, that to them murmured low,
As he would speak, but that he lacked a
tongue,

Yet did by signs his glad affection show,
Making his stream run slow.

And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell
'Gan flock about these twain, that did excel
The rest, so far as Cynthia1 doth shend 2 121
The lesser stars. So they, enrangèd well,
Did on those two attend,

And their best service lend,

Against their wedding day, which was not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my

Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder,

And Hercules' two pillars standing near
Did make to quake and fear:

Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry! 150
That fillest England with thy triumph's fame,
Joy have thou of thy noble victory,
And endless happiness of thine own name,
That promiseth the same;

That through thy prowess and victorious arms
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms;
And great Elisa's glorious name may ring
Through all the world, filled with thy wide
alarms,

Which some brave muse may sing
To ages following,

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35

1 sully 2 placed

Either by chance, against the course of kind,
Or through unaptness in the substance found,
Which it assumèd of some stubborn ground,
That will not yield unto her form's direction,
But is deformed with some foul imperfection.

And oft it falls (ay me, the more to rue!)
That goodly beauty, albe heavenly borne,
Is foul abused, and that celestial hue,
150
Which doth the world with her delight adorn,
Made but the bait of sin, and sinners' scorn,
Whilst every one doth seek and sue to have it,
But every one doth seek but to deprave it.

Apollo great, whose beams the greater world do light,

And in our little world do clear our inward sight,

Which ever shine, though hid from carth by earthly shade,

Whose lights do ever live, but in our darkness fade;

Thou god whose youth was decked with spoil of Python's skin 5

(So humble knowledge can throw down the snakish sin);

Latona's son, whose birth in pain and travail long

Doth teach, to learn the good what travails do belong;

In travail of our life (a short but tedious space),

While brickle hour-glass runs, guide thou our panting pace:

ΙΟ

Give us foresightful minds; give us minds to obey

What foresight tells; our thoughts upon thy knowledge stay.

Let so our fruits grow up that Nature be maintained,

But so our hearts keep down, with vice they be not stained.

Let this assuréd hold our judgments overtake,

That nothing wins the heaven but what doth earth forsake. 16

1 brittle