Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DESCENSUS ASTRAEAE, by GEORGE PEELE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DESCENSUS ASTRAEAE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: See, lovely lords, and you, my lord, behold
Last Line: Guided by grace and heaven's immortal hand.
Subject(s): Elizabeth I, Queen Of England (1533-1603; Festivals; London; Webbe, Sir William (fl 1568-1591); Fairs; Pageants


THE PRESENTER'S Speech.

SEE, lovely lords, and you, my lord, behold
How Time hath turn'd his restless wheel about,
And made the silver moon and heaven's bright eye
Gallop the zodiac, and end the year,
Whose revolution now begets anew
The days that have created and confirm'd
A worthy governor, for London's good,
To underbear, under his sovereign's sway,
Unpartial Justice' beam, and weav'd a Web
For your content, and her command in all,
You citizens of this metropolis,
Whose honour and whose oath to gratulate,
Lordings, behold what emblem I present.
Astræa, daughter of th' immortal Jove,
Great Jove, defender of this ancient town,
Descended of the Trojan Brutus' line,
Offspring of a courageous couquering king,
Whose pure renown hath pierc'd the world's large ears,
In golden scrolls rolling about the heavens;
Celestial sacred Nymph, that tends her flock
With watchful eyes, and keeps this fount in peace,
Guarded with Graces, and with gracious trains,
Virtues divine, and gifts incomparable,
Nor lets blind superstitious Ignorance
Corrupt so pure a spring: O happy times,
That do beget such calm and quiet days,
Where sheep and shepherd breathe in such content!
Honour attends her throne; in her bright eyes
Sits Majesty; Virtue and Steadfastness
Possess her heart; sweet Mercy sways her sword;
Her Champion, arm'd with resolution,
Sits at her feet to chástise malcontents
That threat her honour's wreck; and Time and Kind
Produce her years to make them numberless;
While Fortune for her service and her sake
With golden hands doth strengthen and enrich
The Web that they for fair Astræa weave.
Long may she live, long may she govern us,
In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars,
Our fair Astræa, our Pandora fair,
Our fair Eliza, our Zabeta fair;
Sweet Cynthia's darling, beauteous Cypria's peer;
As dear to England and true English hearts
As Pompey to the citizens of Rome;
As merciful as Cæsar in his might;
As mighty as the Macedonian king,
Or Trojan Hector, terror to the Greeks.
Goddess, live long, whose honours we advance,
Strengthen thy neighbours', propagate thine own:
Guide well thy helm, lay thine anointed hand
To build the temple of triumphant Truth,
That while thy subjects draw their peace from thee,
Thy friends with aid of arms may succour'd be,

ASTRÆA, with her sheephook, on the top of the Pageant.

Feed on, my flock, among the gladsome green,
Where heavenly nectar flows above the banks;
Such pastures are not common to be seen:
Pay to immortal Jove immortal thanks,
For what is good from heaven's high throne doth fall;
And heaven's great architect be prais'd for all.

SUPERSTITION to Ignorance, a friar, sitting by the fountain.

Stir, priest, and with thy beads poison this spring;
I tell thee all is baneful that I bring.

IGNORANCE, a priest.

It is in vain: her eye keeps me in awe,
Whose heart is purely fixèd on the law,
The holy law; and bootless we contend,
While this chaste nymph this fountain doth defend.

EUPHROSYNE.

Whilom, when Saturn's golden reign did cease,
And iron age had kindled cruel wars,
Envy in wrath perturbing common peace,
Engendering canker'd hate and bloody jars;
Lo, then Olympus' king, the thundering Jove,
Raught hence this gracious nymph Astræa fair:

Now once again he sends her from above,
Descended through the sweet transparent air;

And here she sits in beauty fresh and sheen,
Shadowing the person of a peerless queen.

AGLAIA.

A peerless queen, a royal princely dame,
Enroll'd in register of eternal fame.

THALIA.

The Graces throw their balm about her sacred head,
Whose government her realm's true happiness hath bred.

CHARITY.

That happiness continue in her land,
Great Israel's God, spring of all heavenly peace,
And let thine angels in her rescue stand:
With her life's wane done England's joys decrease:
O, let her princely days never have fine,
Whose virtues are immortal and divine!

HOPE.

Such virtues as her throne do beautify,
And make her honours mount and scale the sky.

FAITH.

Where hope of her eternal bliss doth rest,
Conceivèd in her sweet and sacred breast.

HONOUR.

With radiant beams, reflecting on the earth,
Even from the snowy brows of Albion,
Beyond the utmost verge of Christendom,
As bright as is the burning lamp of heaven,
Shineth my mistress' honour, in whose fame
The heathen carols sing, and all admire,
From icy Tanais to the sevenfold Nile,
Her glory, that commands this western isle.

CHAMPION.


In whose defence my colours I advance,
And girt me with my sword, and shake my lance:
These British lions, rampant in this field,
That never learn'd in battle's rage to yield,
Breathe terror to the proud aspiring foe,
Ranging the world, commanding where they go;
Therefore in vain this misproud malcontent
Threatens her state, whose harms the heavens prevent.
Sit safe, sweet nymph, among thy harmless sheep:
Thy sacred person angels have in keep.

FIRST MALCONTENT.

What meaneth this? I strive, and cannot strike;
She is preserv'd by miracle belike:
If so, then wherefore threaten we in vain
That queen whose cause the gracious heavens maintain?

SECOND MALCONTENT.

No marvel, then, although we faint and quail,
For mighty is the truth and will prevail.

In the hinder part of the Pageant did sit a child, representing Nature,
holding in her hand a distaff, and spinning a web, which passed through the hand
of Fortune, and was wheeled up by Time, who spake as followeth:

TIME.

Thus while my wheel with ever-turning gyres,
At heaven's high hest, serves earthly men's desires,
I wind the Web that Kind so well begins,
While Fortune doth enrich what Nature spins.

A Speech on the water, delivered in the morning, at my Lord Mayor's going to
Westminster.

List, gentle lords, and, bubbling stream, be still,
And, whistling winds, your angry murmur cease;
Let Thetis' nymph unfold the goddess' hest.
Behold, embark'd thus bravely as you see,
Laden with treasure and with precious ore,
From where in Tellus' veins the parching sun
Doth gold and glittering minerals create,
Are come these strangers lovingly inflam'd,
To gratulate to you, my lovely lord,
This gladsome day wherein your honours spring:
And by the bar that thwarts this silver stream,
Even to the beauteous verge of Troy-novant,
That decks this Thamesis on either side, Thus far these friends have pierc'd,
and all by me
Salute your honour and your company,
Thrice-worthy pretor of this ancient town.
The mortar of these walls, temper'd in peace,
Yet holds the building sure, as are the sprigs
Woven from the spreading root in knotty box.
Labour, fair lord, as other mayors of yore,
To beautify this city with deserts.
So with these friendly strangers, man by man,
Pass with advisement to receive thy oath;
Keep it inviolate for thy sovereign's hope,
Virtue's pure mirror, London's great mistress;
Unsheath the sword committed to thy sway,
With merciful regard of every cause.
So go in peace, happy by sea and land,
Guided by grace and heaven's immortal hand.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net