Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE UNPARALLELED AUTHOR OF THE SEQUENT POEMS, W.B., by NICHOLAS DOWNEY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO THE UNPARALLELED AUTHOR OF THE SEQUENT POEMS, W.B., by                    
First Line: Hail, albion's swain, whose worthy brow those bays
Last Line: Continual candles on thy lasting urn.
Subject(s): Browne, William (1591-1645)


HAIL, Albion's swain, whose worthy brow those bays,
G'en to the victor in Pan's pastoral plays,
Ere since thy pipe's first birth have bound, whose tongue
Our loves on once lov'd Syrinx freely sung.
When mountains' heads and storm-wrong'd shrubs did cast
Their long shades westward, and when shepherds haste
To 'nbed their pended flocks, how oft among
The various sonnets of a neighbouring throng
Hast thou enchanted with a strong desire
To learn thy accents great Sylvanus' quire,
Who, like young infants willing to obtain
Their nurses' dialect and perfect strain,
Labour'd a repetition; here the thrush
Strove with his whistle; in next bord'ring bush,
Shrouded about, was the small redbreast set,With list'ning ears, and unwilling
to let
Nought pass, turn'd echo to thy tunes; above,
The soaring lark did meditating move
Her gutling tongue; but each in vain; at last,
Though out of tune, proud Philomel's distaste
To hear a rival did dispose the choice
Of nat'ral notes into an artlike voice.
Thy heavenly harmony sounding below,
Among the vales, the river gods did draw
Above their streams, shaking their silver hair;
Then lifted up, the anthems seem'd more rare;
Rap'd with such music their cold monarchy
Abandon'd straight, they mounted up on high,
There stood attentive all, as if upon
Parnassus' top, Apollo's station,
He harping lay, and with smooth Mercury
Had shar'd the spheres by better melody.
Thus long in admiration of both lays,
They gave the sentence, thou obtain'st the praise,
And with insinuation did entreat
That Tavy's banks might be thy frequent seat:
They had their will, thou yield'st a loath consent,
Thy winds must calm their swelling element,
And hear the water-nymphs e'er since that time.
We hinds, remembering thy mellifluous rhyme,
Covet to drive our cherelie flocks along
That crystal lake to hear thy wonted song,
That song which metamorphos'd raping bears,
And train'd the crafty fox into her snares.
The happier Fates had favour'd fair Marine,
Had thy lips woo'd for her her Celandine;
If Remond could persuade as thou canst move,
Had chang'd to hate that beauty's disdain'd love;
Nor had the labour of a deity
Needed to quicken her mortality,
Thy charming voice had done 't; for thy song's sake
Charon had wherried from the Stygian lake
Again her ghost; nor hath thy peerless verse
Done less, thou must immortalize thy herse.
Thou'st quite forsook Pan's sports, the more the grief,
His joy the more, thou absent, he's the chief;
We've lost thy fellowship, not lost thy fame,
We'll teach our children to adore thy name.
When as our Cornish or Devonian swains
Still sport among their lambkins on the plains,
Or celebrate their festivals, we'll raise
Our old reed once to Pan's, twice to thy praise;
And when great Jove thy soul angelical
Shall summon us to sing thy madrigal,
Our .... shall want their tallow, but we'll burn
Continual candles on thy lasting urn.





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