For sticklers in those stirs that at the feast should be.
These preparations great, when Charwell comes to see,
To Oxford got before, to entertain the flood,
Apollo's aid he begs, with all his sacred brood,
To that most learned place to welcome her repair.
Who in her coming on, was wax'd so wondrous fair,
That meeting, strife arose betwixt them, whether they
Her beauty should extol, or she admire their bay.
On whom their several gifts (to amplify her dow'r)
The Muses there bestow; which ever have the pow'r
Immortal her to make. And as she past along,
Those modest Thespian maids thus to their Isis sung;
"Ye daughters of the hills, come down from every
side,
And due attendance give upon the lovely bride:
Go, strew the paths with flowers, by which she is to
For be ye thus assur'd, in Albion never was [pass.
A beauty (yet) like hers: where have you ever seen
So absolute a nymph in all things, for a queen?
Give instantly in charge the day be wondrous fair,
That no disorder'd blast attempt her braided hair.
Go, see her state prepar'd, and every thing be fit.
The bride-chamber adorn'd with all beseeming it.
And for the princely groom, who ever yet could name
A flood that is so fit for Isis as the Tame ?
Ye both so lovely are, that knowledge scarce can tell,
For feature whether he, or beauty she excel:
That ravished with joy each other to behold,
When as your crystal waists you closely do enfold,
Betwixt your beauteous selves you shall beget a son,
That when your lives shall end, in him shall be begun.
The pleasant Surryan shores shall in that flood delight,
And Kent esteem herself most happy in his sight.
The shire that London loves, shall only him prefer,
And give full many a gift to hold him near to her.
The Scheldt, the goodly Meuse, the rich and viny
Rhine,
[plain,
Shall come to meet the Thames in Neptune's wat'ry
And all the Belgian streams and neighbouring floods
of Gaul,
Of him shall stand in awe his tributaries all."
So wond'rously admir'd, and her so far extend,
But to the marriage hence, industrious Muse, descend.
The Naiads and the nymphs extremely over-joy'd,
And on the winding banks all busily employ'd,
Upon this joyful day, some dainty chaplets twine:
Some others chosen out, with fingers neat and fine,
Brave anadems do make: some bauldricks up do bind :
Some, garlands; and to some the nosegays were as-
sign'd
[be
As best their skill did serve. But for that Tame should
Still man-like as himself, therefore they will that he
Should not be drest with flowers to gardens that be-
long,
(His bride that better fit) but only such as sprung
From the replenish'd meads, and fruitful pastures near.
To sort which flowers, some sit; some making gar-
lands were;
The primrose placing first, because that in the spring
It is the first appears, then only flourishing;
The azur'd hare-bell next, with them they neatly
[betwixt.
T'allay whose luscious smell, they woodbind plac'd
Amongst those things of scent, there prick they in the
And near to that again, her sister daffadilly. [lilly;
To sort these flowers of show, with th' other that were
sweet,
[meet:
The cowslip then they couch, and th' oxlip, for her
The columbine amongst they sparingly do set,
The yellow kingscup, wrought in many a curious fret,
And now and then among, of eglantine a spray,
By which again a course of lady-smocks they lay:
The crow-flower, and thereby the clover-flower they
stick,
The daisy, over all those sundry sweets so thick,
As nature doth herself, to imitate her right;
Who seems in that her pearl so greatly to delight,
That every plain therewi h she powd'reth to behold:
The crimson darnel-flower, the blue-bottle, and gold;
Which though esteem'd but weeds, yet for their dainty
hues,
And for their scent not ill, they for this purpose chuse.
Thus having told you how the bridegrom Tame was
I'll shew you how the bride, fair Isis, they invest;
Sitting to be attir'd under her bower of state,
Which scorns a meaner sort, than fits a princely rate.
In anadems for whom they curiously dispose
The red, the dainty white, the goodly damask rose,
For the rich ruby, pearl, and amethyst, men place
In kings imperial crowns, the circle that inchace.
The brave carnation then, with sweet and sovereign
power
As of fair Isis thus the learned virgins spake, A shrill and sudden bruit this Prothalamion brake; That White-horse, for the love she bare to her ally, And honour'd sister vale, the bounteous Aylsbury, Sent presents to the Tame by Ock her only flood, Which for his mother vale so much on greatness stood. From Oxford, Isis hastes more speedily, to see That river like his birth might entertained be: For that ambitious vale, still striving to command, And using for her place continually to stand, Proud White-horse to persuade, much business there hath been [queen. (So of his colour call'd, although a July-flower) T' acknowledge that great vale of Eusham for her With th' other of his kind, the speckled and the pale: And but that Eusham is so opulent and great, Then th' odoriferous pink, that sends forth such a gale That thereby she herself holds in the sovereign seat, Of sweetness; yet in scents as various as in sorts. This White-horse all the vales of Britain would o'er-The purple violet then, the pansie there supports: And absolutely sit in the imperial chair;
[bear, And boasts as goodly herbs, and numerous flocks to feed,
To have as soft a glebe, as good increase of seed;
As pure and fresh an air upon her face to flow,
As Eusham for her life; and from her steed doth show,
Her lusty rising downs, as fair a prospect take
As that imperious Wold; which her great queen doth
The marygold above t' adorn the arched bar:
The double-daisy, thrift, the button batchelor,
Sweet-william, sops-in-wine, the campion: and to
these
Some lavender they put, with rosemary and bays:
Sweet marjoram, with her like, sweet basil rare for
smell,
With many a flower, whose name were now too long
And rarely with the rest, the goodly flour-de-lis.
Thus for the nuptial hour, all fitted point-device,
Whilst some still busied are in decking of the bride,
Some others were again as seriously employ'd
In strewing of those herbs, at bridals us'd that be;
Which every where they throw with bounteous hands
and free.
[fly,
The healthful balm and mint, from their full laps do
The scentful camomile, the ven❜rous costmary;
They hot muscado oil with milder maudlin cast;
Strong tansey, fennel cool, they prodigally waste:
Clear hysop, and therewith the comfortable thyme,
Germander with the rest, each thing then in her prime;
As well of wholesome herbs, as every pleasant flower,
Which nature here produc'd, to fit this happy hour.
Amongst these strewing kinds, some other wild that
grow,
As burnet, all abroad, and meadow-wort they throw.
Thus all things falling out to every one's desire,
The ceremonies done that marriage doth require,
The bride and bridegroom set, and serv'd with sundry
And every other plac'd as fitted their estates;
Amongst this confluence great, wise Charwell here was
thought
[been taught
The fitt'st to cheer the guests; who throughly had
In all that could pertain to courtship, long agon,
As coming from his sire, the fruitful Helidon,
He travelleth to Tames; where passing by those towns
Of that rich country near, whereas the mirthful clowns,
With tabor and the pipe, on holidays do use,
Upon the may-pole green, to trample out their shoes:
And having in his ears the deep and solemn rings,
Which found him all the way, unto the learned springs,
Where he his sovereign Ouze most happily doth meet,
And him, the thrice-three maids, Apollo's offspring,
greet
With all their sacred gifts; thus, expert being grown
In music; and besides, a curious maker known;
This Charwell (as I said) the first these floods among,
For silence having call'd, thus to th' assembly sung :
"Stand fast, ye higher hills; low vallies, easily lie;
And forests, that to both you equally apply
(But for the greater part, both wild and barren be)
Retire ye to your wastes; and rivers, only we,
Oft meeting, let us mix: and with delightful grace,
Let every beauteous nymph her best-lov'd flood em-
brace,
An alien be he born, or near to her own spring, So from his native fount he bravely flourishing, Along the flow'ry fields licentiously do strain, Greeting each curled grove, and circling every plain; Or hasting to his fall, his shoaly gravel scow'rs, And with his crystal front then courts the climbing [name, "Let all the world be judge, what mountain hath a Like that from whose proud foot there springs some flood of fame:
And in the earth's survey, what seat like that is set, Whose streets some ample stream abundantly doth wet?
Where is there haven found, or harbour, like that road, Int' which some goodly flood his burden doth unload? By whose rank swelling stream the far-fetcht foreign
May up to inland-towns conveniently be brought.
Of any part of earth, we be the most renown'd;
That countries very oft, nay, empires oft we bound.
As Rubicon, much fam'd both for his fount and fall,
The ancient limit held 'twixt Italy and Gaul.
Europe and Asia keep on Tanais' either side. [vide.
Such honour have we floods, the world (even) to di-
Nay, kingdoms thus we prove are christened oft by
Iberia takes her name from crystal Iberus. [us;
Such reverence to our kind the wiser ancients gave,
As they suppos'd each flood a deity to have.
"But with our fame at home return we to proceed.
In Britain here we find, our Severn, and our Tweed,
The tripartited isle do generally divide, [side.
To England, Scotland, Wales, as each doth keep her
Trent cuts the land in two so equally, as tho'
Nature it pointed out, to our great Brute to shew
How to his mighty sons the island he might share;
A thousand of this kind, and nearer, I will spare;
Where, if the state of floods at large I list to shew,
I proudly could report how Pactolus doth throw
Up grains of perfect gold; and of great Ganges tell,
Which when full India's showers enforceth him to
swell,
[shore:
Gilds with his glistering sands the over-pamper'd
How wealthy Tagus first, by tumbling down his ore,
The rude and slothful Moors of old Iberia taught
To search into those hills, from which such wealth he
brought.
Beyond these if I pleas'd I to your praise could bring, In sacred Tempe, how (about the hoof-plough'd spring)
The Heliconian maids, upon that hallow'd ground,
Recounting heavenly hymns eternally are crown'd.
And as the earth doth us in her own bowels nourish;
So every thing that grows, by us doth thrive and
flourish.
To godly virtuous men, we wisely liken'd are:
To be so in themselves, that do not only care;
But by a sacred power, which goodness doth await,
Do make those virtuous too, that them associate."
By this, the wedding ends, and brake up all the
shew:
[flow
And Tames, got, born, and bred, immediately doth
To Windsor-ward amain (that with a wond'ring eye,
The forest might behold his awful empery)
And soon becometh great, with waters wext so rank,
That with his wealth he seems to retch his wid'ned
He in such earnest love with amorous gestures woes,
That looking still at her, his way was like to lose;
And wand'ring in and out, so wildly seems to go,
As headlong he himself into her lap would throw.
Him with the like desire the forest doth embrace,
And with her presence strives her Tames as much to
grace.
No forest, of them all, so fit as she doth stand,
When princes, for their sports, her pleasures will com-
mand;
No wood-nymph as herself such troops had ever seen, Nor can such quarries boast as have in Windsor been; Nor any ever had so many solemn days,
So brave assemblies view'd, nor took so rich assays. Then, hand in hand, her Tames the forest softly brings
To that supremest place of the great English kings,
The Garter's royal seat, from him who did advance
That princely order first, our first that conquer'd
France;
[knights,
The temple of St. George, whereas his honour'd
Upon his hallowed day, observe their ancient rites:
Where Eaton is at hand to nurse that learned brood,
To keep the Muses still near to this princely flood;
That nothing there may want to beautify that seat,
With every pleasure stor'd: and here my song com-
plete.
THE XXVIII. SONG OF THE SAME.
THREE shires at once this song assays,
By various and unusual ways.
At Nottingham first coming in,
The vale of Bever doth begin;
Tow'rds Le'ster then her course she holds,
And sailing o'er the pleasant Oulds,
She fetcheth Soare down from her springs,
By Charnwood, which to Trent she brings,
Then shows the braveries of that flood,
Makes Sherwood sing her Robin Hood;
Then rouzes up the aged Peak,
And of her wonders makes her speak:
Thence Darwin down by Derby tends,
And at her fall to Trent, it ends.
Now scarcely on this tract the Muse had entrance made,
Inclining to the south, but Bever's batning slade Receiveth her to guest, whose coming had too long Put off her rightful praise, when thus herself she sung: "Three shires there are (quoth she) in me their parts that claim, [tingham.
For it so silken is, nor any of our kind,
Or what, or where they be, or howsoe'er inclin'd,
Me Bever shall outbrave, that in my state do scorn,
By any of them all (once) to be overborn,
With theirs, do but compare the country where I lie,
My Hill, and Oulds will say, they are the island's eye.
Consider next my scite, and say it doth excel;
Then come unto my soil, and you shall see it swell
With every grass and grain that Britain forth can
bring;
I challenge any vale, to shew me but that thing
I cannot shew to her (that truly is mine own);
Beside I dare thus boast, that I as far am known,
As any of them all, the south their names doth sound,
The spacious north doth me, that there is scarcely
found,
A roomth for any else, it is so fill'd with mine,
Which but a little wants of making me divine:
Nor barren am of brooks, for that I still retain
Two neat and dainty rills, the little Snyte, and Deane,
That from the lovely Oulds, their beauteous parent
sprung
From the Leicestrian fields, come on with me along,
Till both within one bank, they on my north are meint,
And where I end, they fall, at Newark, into Trent."
Hence wand'ring as the Muse delightfully beholds The beauty of the large, and goodly full-flock'd Oulds, She on the left hand leaves old Leicester, and flies, Until the fertile earth glut her insatiate eyes, From rich to richer still, that riseth her before, Until she come to cease upon the head of Soare, Where Fosse, and Watling, cut each other in their
At Sharnford, where at first her soft and gentle source,
To her but shallow banks, begineth to repair,
Of all this beauteous isle, the delicatest air;
Whence softly sallying out, as loth the place to leave,
She Sence a pretty rill doth courteously receive:
For Swift, a little brook, which certainly she thought
Down to the banks of Trent would safely her have
brought,
Because their native springs so nearly were ally'd,
Her sister Soare forsook, and wholly her apply'd
To Avon, as with her continually to keep,
And wait on her along to the Sabrinian deep.
Thus with her handmaid Sence, the Soare doth
eas❜ly slide
By Leicester, where yet her ruins show her pride,
Demolish'd many years, that of the great foundation
Of her long buried walls, men hardly see the station;
Yet of some pieces found, so sure the cement locks
The stones, that they remain like perdurable rocks:
Where whilst the lovely Soare, with many a dear em-
brace,
Is solacing herself with this delightful place, Large Lincoln, Rutland rich, and th' north's eye Not-The forest, which the name of that brave town doth But in the last of these since most of me doth lie, To that my most-loved shire myself I must apply. "Not Eusham that proud nymph, although she still pretend
Herself the first of vales, and though abroad she send
Her awful dread command, that all should tribute pay
To her as our great queen; nor White-horse, though
her clay
Of silver seem to be, new melted, nor the vale
Of Aylsbury, whose grass seems given out by tale,
bear, [hair, With many a goodly wreath, crowns her dishevel'd And in her gallant green, her lusty livery shows Herself to this fair flood, which mildly as she flows Reciprocally likes her length and breadth to see, As also how she keeps her fertile purlues free: The herds of fallow deer she on the lawns doth feed, As having in herself to furnish every need. But now since gentle Soare such leisure seems to take, The Muse in her behalf this strong defence doth make,
Against the neighbour floods, for that which tax her so, | Who will describe to life a forest, let him take
And her a channel call, because she is so slow.
The cause is that she lies upon so low a flat,
Where nature most of all befriended her in that,
The longer to enjoy the good she doth possess:
For had those (with such speed that forward seem to
press)
So many dainty meads, and pastures theirs to be,
They then would wish themselves to be as slow as she,
Who well may be compar'd to some young tender
maid,
[ray'd,
Ent'ring some prince's court, which is for pomp ar-
Who led from room to room amazed is to see
The furniture and states, which all embroideries be,
The rich and sumptuous beds, with tester covering
plumes,
And various as the sutes, so various the perfumes, Large galleries, where piece with piece doth seem to strive,
Of pictures done to life, landskip, and perspective, Thence goodly gardens sees, where antique statues stand
In stone and copper, cut by many a skilful hand;
Where every thing to gaze, her more and more en-
tices,
Thinking at once she sees a thousand paradises,
Goes softly on, as though before she saw the last,
She long'd again to see, what she had slightly past.
So the enticing soil the Soare along doth lead,
As wond'ring in herself, at many a spacious mead;
When Charnwood from the rocks salutes her wished
sight,
[light,
(Of many a wood-god woo'd) her darling and de-
Whose beauty whilst that Soare is pausing to behold
Clear Wreakin coming in, from Waltham on the
Ould,
Brings Eye, a pretty brook, to bear her silver train,
Which on by Melton makes, and tripping o'er the
plain,
Here finding her surpriz'd with proud Mount-sorrel's
sight,
By quickening of her course, more eas'ly doth invite
Her to the goodly Trent, whereas she goes along
By Loughborough, she thus of that fair forest sung.
"O Charnwood, be thou call'd the choicest of thy
kind,
The like in any place, what flood hath hapt to find?
No tract in all this isle, the proudest let her be,
Can shew a sylvan nymph, for beauty like to thee:
The satyrs, and the fawns, by Dian set to keep
Rough hills, and forest holts, were sadly seen to weep,
When thy high-palmed harts, the sport of bows and
hounds,
By gripple borderers hands, were banished thy grounds.
The Driades that were wont about thy lawns to rove,
To trip from wood to wood, and scud from grove to
grove,
On Sharpley that were seen, and Cadman's aged rocks,
Against the rising sun, to braid their silver locks;
And with the harmless Elves, on heathy Bardon's
height,
By Cynthia's colder beams to play them night by
night,
Exil'd their sweet abode to poor bare commons fled, They with the oaks that liv'd, now with the oaks are dead.
Thy surface to himself, nor shall he need to make
Another form at all, where oft in thee is found
Fine sharp but easy hills, which reverently are crown'd
With aged antique rocks, to which the goats and sheep
(To him that stands remote) do softly seem to creep,
To gnaw the little shrubs, on their steep sides that
grow;
Upon whose other part, on some descending brow,
Huge stones are hanging out, as though they down
would drop,
Where under-growing oaks, on their old shoulders
The others hoary heads, which still seem to decline,
And in a dimble near (even as a place divine,
For contemplation fit) an ivy-ceiled bower,
As nature had therein ordain'd some sylvan power;
As men may very oft at great assemblies see,
Where many of most choice, and wond'red beauties be:
For stature one doth seem the best away to bear;
Another for her shape, to stand beyond compare;
Another for the fine composure of a face:
Another short of these, yet for a modest grace
Before them all prefer'd; amongst the rest yet one,
Adjudg'd by all to be so perfect paragon,
That all those parts in her together simply dwell,
For which the other do so severally excel.
My Charnwood, like the last, hath in herself alone,
What excellent can be in any forest shown."
On whom when thus the Soare had these high praises
spent,
She easily slid away into her sovereign Trent,
Who having wander'd long, at length began to leave
Her native country's bounds, and kindly doth receive
The lesser Tame, and Mess, the Mess a dainty rill,
Near Charnwood rising first, where she begins to fill
Her banks, which all her course on both sides do
abound
With heath and ferny olds, and often gleaby ground,
Till Croxall's fertile earth doth comfort her at last
When she is ent'ring Trent; but I was like t' have
past
The other Sence, whose source doth rise not far from
By Ancor, that herself to famous Trent prefers,
The second of that name, allotted to this shire,
A name but hardly found in any place but here;
Nor is to many known, this country that frequent.
But Muse return at last, attend the princely Trent,
Who straining on in state, the north's imperious flood,
The third of England call'd, with many a dainty wood,
Being crown'd to Burton comes, to Needwood where
she shows
Herself in all her pomp; and as from thence she flows,
She takes into her train rich Dove, and Darwin clear,
Darwin, whose font and fall are both in Derbyshire;
And of those thirty floods, that wait the Trent upon,
Doth stand without compare, the very paragon.
Thus wand'ring at her will, as uncontroul'd she
That she from running wild, but hardly can refrain,
To view in how great state, as she along doth strain,
That brave exalted seat beholdeth her in pride,
As how the large-spread meads upon the other side,
All flourishing in flowers, and rich embroideries dress'd,
In which she sees herself above her neighbours bless'd.
As wrap'd with the delights, that her this prospect
brings,
In her peculiar praise, lo thus the river sings:
"What should I care at all, from what my name
I take,
That thirty doth import, that thirty rivers make;
My greatness what it is, or thirty abbeys great,
That on my fruitful banks, times formerly did seat:
Or thirty kinds of fish that in my streams do live,
To me this name of Trent, did from that number give.
What reck I? let great Thames, since by his fortune he
Is sovereign of us all that here in Britain be;
From Isis, and old Tame, his pedigree derive;
And for the second place, proud Severn that doth
strive,
Fetch her descent from Wales, from that proud moun-
tain sprung,
Plinillimon, whose praise is frequent them among,
As of that princely maid, whose name she boasts to
bear,
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Bright Sabrin, whom she holds as her undoubted heir,
Let these imperious floods draw down their long de-
His daintiness to keep, (each curious palate's proof)
From his vile ravenous foe: next him I name the ruffe,
His very near ally, and both for scale and fin,
In taste, and for his bait (indeed) his next of kin,
The pretty slender dare, of many call'd the dace,
Within my liquid glass, when Phoebus looks his face,
Oft swiftly as he swims, his silver belly shows,
But with such nimble flight, that ere ye can disclose
His shape, out of your sight like lightning he is shot.
The trout by nature mark'd with many a crimson spot,
As though she curious were in him above the rest,
And of fresh-water fish, did note him for the best;
The roche, whose common kind to every flood doth fall;
The chub (whose neater name which some a chevin
call)
Food to the tyrant pike, (most being in his power)
Who for their numerous store he most doth them
devour;
The lusty salmon then, from Neptune's wat'ry realm,
When as his season serves, stemming my tideful
stream,
Then being in his kind, in me his pleasure takes,
(For whom the fisher then all other game forsakes)
Which bending of himself to th' fashion of a ring,
Above the forced weares, himself doth nimbly fling,
And often when the net hath drag'd him safe to land,
Is seen by natural force to 'scape his murderer's hand;
Whose grain doth rise in flakes, with fatness inter-
larded,
From these so famous stocks, and only say of Trent,Of many a liquorish lip, that highly is regarded.
That Mooreland's barren earth me first to light did
bring,
Which though she be but brown, my clear complexion'd spring
Gain'd with the nymphs such grace, that when I first did rise,
The Naiades on my brim dane'd wanton hydagies,
And on her spacious breast (with heaths that doth
abound)
Encircled my fair fount with many a lusty round:
And of the British floods, though but the third I be,
Yet Thames and Severn both in this come short of me,
For that I am the mere of England, that divides
The north part from the south, on my so either sides,
That reckoning how these tracts in compass be extent,
Men bound them on the north, or on the south of
Trent;
Their banks are barren sands, if but compar'd with
mine,
[shine:
Through my perspicuous breast, the pearly peebles
I throw my crystal arms along the flow'ry vallies,
Which lying sleek and smooth as any garden-alleys,
Do give me leave to play, whilst they do court my
And crown my winding banks with many an anadem:
My silver-scaled sculls about my streams do sweep,
Now in the shallow fords, now in the falling deep:
So that of every kind, the new spawn'd numerous fry
Seem in me as the sands that on my shore do lie.
The barbell, than which fish a braver doth not swim,
Nor greater for the ford within my spacious brim,
Nor (newly taken) more the curious taste doth please;
The greling, whose great spawn is big as any pease;
The pearch with pricking fins, against the pike pre-
par'd,
As nature had thercon bestow'd this stronger guard
And Humber, to whose waste I pay my wat'ry store,
Me of her sturgeons sends, that I thereby the more
Should have my beauties grac'd with something from
Not Ancum's silver'd eel excelleth that of Trent;
Though the sweet smelling smelt be more in Thames
than me,
The lamprey, and his lesse, in Severn general be;
The flounder smooth and flat, in other rivers caught,
Perhaps in greater store, yet better are not thought:
The dainty gudgeon, loche, the minnow, and the bleake,
Since they but little are, I little need to speak
Of them, nor doth it fit me much of those to reck,
Which every where are found in every little beck;
Nor of the crayfish here, which creeps amongst my
stones,
From all the rest alone, whose shell is all his bones:
For carp, the tench, and breame, my other store among,
To lakes and standing pools that chiefly do belong,
Here scouring in my fords, feed in my waters clear,
Are muddy fish in ponds to that which they are here."
From Nottingham, near which this river first begun
This song, she the meanwhile, by Newark having run,
Receiving little Synte, from Bever's batning grounds,
At Gainsborough goes out, where the Lincolnian
Yet Sherwood all this while, not satisfied to show
Her love to princely Trent, as downward she doth flow,
HerMeden and her Man, she down from Mansfield sends
To Iddle for her aid, by whom she recommends
Her love to that brave queen of waters, her to meet,
When she tow'rds Humber comes, do humbly kiss her
feet,
And clip her till she grace great Humber with her fall.
When Sherwood somewhat back the forward Muse
doth call;
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