22.-AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE (FROM "THE MISTRESS OF PHILARETE") Two pretty rills do meet; and, meeting, make About whose banks the fertile mountains stood * * * * For pleasant was that pool; and near it, then, For, though those excellences wanting be North-east, not far from this great pool, there lies 1 Alresford. 2 The Itchen. 3 Winchester. With leisurely ascending, to such height Though near two thousand furlongs thence it lie. Which grow unset. The hedgerows do not want The cowslip, violet, primrose, nor a plant That freshly scents: as birch, both green and tall; Low sallows, on whose bloomings bees do fall; Fair woodbines, which about the hedges twine; Smooth privet, and the sharp-sweet eglantine; With many more, whose leaves and blossoms fair The earth adorn, and oft perfume the air. When you unto the highest do attain, An intermixture both of wood and plain You shall behold, which, though aloft it lie, Hath downs for sheep and fields for husbandry : So much at least, as little needeth more, If not enough, to merchandise their store. In every row hath Nature planted there Some banquet for the hungry passenger: For here the hazel-nut and filbert grows; There, bullaces; and, little farther, sloes; On this hand standeth a fair wielding-tree; On that large thickets of black cherries be; The shrubby fields are raspice orchards there; The new-felled woods like strawberry gardens are. And had the King of Rivers blest those hills With some small number of such pretty rills As flow elsewhere, Arcadia had not seen A sweeter plot of earth than this had been. G. WITHER 23. DROWNED IN YARROW DOWN in yon garden sweet and gay I heard a fair maid sighing say 66 My wish be wi' sweet Willie ! "Willie's rare, and Willie's fair, "O gentle wind, that bloweth south, "O tell sweet Willie to come down And see the birds on ilka bush And leaves around them hinging. "The lav'rock there, wi' her white breast “O Leader haughs are wide and braid, 1 Promised. 2 Low, rich lands. "But Willie's gone, whom I thought on, "O came ye by yon water-side? Or came you by yon meadow green, She sought him up, she sought him down, Syne,3 in the cleaving of a craig,' She found him drowned in Yarrow ! OLD BALLAD 24. SONG TO STELLA DOUBT you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth? To you, to you, all song of praise is due : Only in you my song begins and endeth. Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure? Who keeps the keys of Nature's chiefest treasure? 1 Parted from. 2 Mate. Who hath the lips where wit in fairness reigneth? Who hath the feet whose steps all sweetness planteth? Who else, for whom Fame worthy trumpets wanteth? To you, to you, all song of praise is due : Who hath the hand which without stroke subdueth? Who hath the hair which, loosest, fastest tieth? Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders? Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders? Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth? To you, to you, all song of praise is due : Only in you my song begins and endeth. P. SIDNEY |