And to the pitch of her perfection raised. By Edm. 1739: Spenser's Amoretti, a Collection of Twenty-five Sonnets set to Music by Dr. Greene. 1788: [A Partial Translation of The Faerie Queene.]. Full fain she lov'd, and was belov'd full fain Of her own Brother River, Bregog hight, So hight because of this deceitful Train, Which he with Mulla wrought to win Delight. beseech you to accept in part of paiment of the infinite debt in which 1590: Faerie Queene. An island which the first to west was showne. Blame is, quoth he, more blamelesse generall. Amyntas, floure of shepheards pride forlorne. That her bright glorie else hath much defamed. Her lookes were like beames of the morning sun. And leave their lambes to losse, misled amisse. Ah! Or drownded lie in pleasures wastefull well. Which having said, him Thestylis bespake: Worthie of Colin selfe, that did it make. Does graunt them grace that otherwise would die. Sweet layes of love to endlesse plaints of pittie. 1596: The Fourth Booke of the Faerie Queene. That can empierce a princes mightie hart. Can match that Muse when it with bayes is crowned. I weened sure he was our God alone, And only woon'd in Fields and Forests here. There learned arts do florish in great honor. It has been the focus of little critical attention in comparison with the poet's other works such as The Faerie Queene, yet it has been called the "greatest pastoral eclogue in the English language". My layes made of her shall not be forgotten. I feele my selfe like one yrapt in spright. 1579: Shepheardes Calender VIII: August. More fit it is t' adore with humble Mind The Image of the Heavens in Shape humane. that isA world of waters heaped vp on hie,Rolling like mountaines in wide wildernesse,Horrible, hideous, roaring with hoarse crie. Book IV. Therefore great Cynthia her in chiefest grace. Bereave of sence each rash beholders sight. 1596: An Hymne in Honour of Heavenly Love. But call it forth, O call him forth to thee. 1819: The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser. Not then to her that scorned thing so base, But to my self the blame that looks so hie: So high her Thoughts as she her self have place, And loath each lowly thing with lofty Eye. Printed by T.C. Nor outlawes fell affray the forest raunger. But rather chose back to my sheep to tourne. But we poore shepheards, whether rightly so. 1596: The Faerie Queene. 1590: Faerie Queene. 1590: Faerie Queene. Colin Clouts Come Home AgaineTHe shepheards boy (best knowen by that name)That after Tityrus first sung his lay,Laies of sweet loue, without rebuke or blame,Sate (as his custome was) vpon a day,Charming his oaten pipe vnto his peres,The shepheard swaines, that did about him play:Who all the while with greedie listfull eares,Did stand astonisht at his curious skill,Like hartlesse deare, dismayed with thunders sound.At last when as he piped had his fill,He rested him: and sitting then around,One of those groomes (a iolly groome was he,As euer piped on an oaten reed,And lou'd this shepheard dearest in degree, Hight Hobbinol) gan thus to him areed.Colin my liefe, my life, how great a losseHad all the shepheards nation by thy lacke?And I poore swaine of many greatest crosse:That sith thy Muse first since thy turning backeWas heard to sound as she was wont on hye,Hast made vs all so blessed and so blythe.Whilest thou wast hence, all dead in dole did lye:The woods were heard to waile full many a sythe,And all their birds with silence to complaine:The fields with faded flowers did seem to mourne,And all their flocks from feeding to refraine:The running waters wept for thy returne,And all their fish with langour did lament:But now both woods and fields, and floods reuiue, Sith thou art come, their cause of meriment,That vs late dead, hast made againe aliue:But were it not too painfull to repeatThe passed fortunes, which to thee befellIn thy late voyage, we thee would entreat,Now at thy leisure them to vs to tell.To whom the shepheard gently answered thus,Hobbin thou temptest me to that I couet:For of good passed newly to discus,By dubble vsurie doth twise renew it. Which, through report of that lives painted blisse. And ye, my fellow shepheards, which do see. Strange thing, how bold & swift the monster was,That neither car'd for wynd, nor haile, nor raine,Nor swelling waues, but thorough them did passeSo proudly, that she made them roare againe.The same aboord vs gently did receaue,And without harme vs farre away did beare,So farre that land our mother vs did leaue,And nought but sea and heauen to vs appeare.Then hartlesse quite and full of inward feare,That shepheard I besought to me to tell, Vnder what skie, or in what world we were,In which I saw no liuing people dwell,Who me recomforting all that he might,Told me that that same was the RegimentOf a great shepheardesse, that Cynthia hight,His leige his Ladie, and his lifes Regient.If then (quoth I) a shepheardesse she bee,Where be the flockes and heards, which she doth keep?And where may I the hills and pastures see,On which she vseth for to feede her sheepe? Nath'less the Nymph her former Liking held; For Love will not be drawn, but must be led, And Bregog did so well her Fancy weld, That her Good-will he got, her first to wed. Hear then, quoth he, the Tenor of my Tale, In sort as I it to that Shepherd told: No Leasing new, nor Grandame's Fable stale, But antient Truth, confirm'd with Credence old. She is the Well of Bounty and brave Mind, Excelling most in Glory and great Light: She is the Ornament of Woman-kind, And Court's chief Girlond, with all Vertues dight.