Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 3. OF CONTENTMENT, by WILLIAM BASSE Poet's Biography First Line: Chauntlet, I muse what solitary vaine Last Line: Nec sua, nec se, mens insatiata tenet. Subject(s): Contentment | ||||||||
EUTHYMIA {EGLOGUE 3} OF CONTENTMENT Meliden. Chantlet. Meliden CHAUNTLET, I muse what solitary vaine So bindes thee prentice to the lowly plaine, That we thy pleasant pipe can neuer heare In Chilterne now a dayes, nor see thee there. Would not the hilles yeild lambes a sweeter feed And woods a lowder Eccho to thy reed? Chauntlet O Meliden, Thou well perceius't these plaines To hold my humble heart in easy chaines: But in my heart, the while, thou doest not see That freedom from all vaine ambition free, Content, that truely makes a lowly state, And shuns aspiring as a dangerous mate; Content that bounds each minde within her owne, Makes want to weale, and woe to want unknowne, That by perswading men to feare to rise Aduances them, and teaching to despise Riches, enriches men. Happy Content, The bodies safeguard, and soules ornament, Gentle (detaines me) Shepheard, in this playne, As I with me my gentle sheepe detaine. Here, where their feedes and floods as equall bee As my affections are with my degree; Here where their daily walke and nightly lare Is always one, as night and day my care Of them is alwayes one, keepe I my sheepe; As them and me these humble valleys keepe. While on yon mountains side thy ramping kine To crop the blooming gosse that is not thine, And on the tender tops and veluet buds Of the young spring to whet their hungry cuds, I see, and am agas't to see them, creep Ready to tumble downe the des'prate steep, To writhe their doubling chines against their sides, And with their sharp hornes gore their lenow hides. Beleeue me, such bold climbeing often throwes The heardlem low, and in the heardsman showes Or too much couetize, or little care. Such perillous wayes my flock shall neuer fare. Meliden But since a blessing such befalles thy minde Vnsought, that all our labours cannot finde, Say (gentle Shepheard) what is true content? Where do's it grow? or whence hath it descent? And how (sith to this vale confin'd thou art) Dwelles free content in so confin'd a heart? Chantlet That haue I told thee (Neatheard) once in short; And more, if thou wilt be the better for't. Contentment is a guift proceeding forth Of inward grace, and not of outward worth: That, that of Fortunes baser seed doth grow, After her baser kinde, doth ebbe and flow As Fortune ebs and flowes: it is not found On Cedars tops, nor dig'd from under ground. It is a Iewell, lost by being sought With too much trauell, found by seeking naught But what it truely ownes: it is the grace Of greatnes, Greatnes of inferiour place. Tis double freedom to condition free; Tis sorrows ease, and thraldom's libertie. Delighting not extreames but middle part, It dwelles in neither head, nor heeles, but heart. And thus thou hearest what, and wheres, Content: But since thou askest whence it hath descent, Tis (doubtles) from some place descended hither As farre beyond the starres as it is thither. For who can thinke but such a heau'nly grace Must needs descend from such celestiall place? And this is that that ha's my lowly minde, And little flock, so in this vale confin'd; Joyn'd with his favour, who doth my content (Mecænas like) both cherish and augment. Meliden Well fare thy heart, wherein content doth dwell, And tongue for representing it, as well As I desire. But I desire withall Who's that whom thou dost thy Mecænas call? Chauntlet I cannot tell whether he would be knowne, Who noble deeds more loues to doe, then owne: But I can tell the lesse that such men would Their names to be declar'd, the more they should. Who nobly doe, and seeke no praise therefore, The more's our shame if they not prais'd the more. But Shepheard's slender Muse in great descents, In Chronicles, or ancient monuments, Is little learn'd (such storyes doe belong Not to the Heard's but to the Herald's song). Yet in my younger and delightfull dayes, Through him, and my content, his name and praise I once compos'd, in such Acrostick verse As then I could, and thus to thee reherse. S ole Lord is he of these now teeming feilds; I n time this herbage him her barbage yeilds: R ays'd were these bankes at his cost and command. R eleiuing arbours, under which we stand I n heate and cold, are his: yon pale so neare C ontaines his speckled heard of nimble deere, H e for his freinds more then himselfe doth keep (A s doe their flesh, and fleeces beare our sheep). R ight as it should, there stands his house, to sight D elightfull, and within of more delight. W here my Mecænas, in all rightes and merits, E xpired Lords of his great line inherits. N ature with almost all her beauties grac'd it; M ans art in midst of Natures pleasures plac'd it; A nd Isis ancient freind, the river Thame, N am'd it (for neighbourhood) by his owne name. K nowne far and neare, and as well lou'd as knowne; N eighbour to all good men, and strange to none: I ngenuous, temperate, of generous molde; G ood Souldier young, and as good Statesman olde. H onours for youth and age deseruing well, T rue honours in both ages on him fell. L ooke o're yon Parke of his and thou shalt finde O f beastes and birdes of sundry sortes and kinde R est there for mutuall loue and place so faire, D eere jealous of the bow, and timerous hare. V nto the sluces there the Hearne resortes; I n the thick groue airyes the hawke for sportes: S age Rauens build, amidst the oaken stelmes, C astles; and Rookes encampe in groue of elmes. O wzles (more old then oakes) their golden billes V se in wilde musick, there to shew their skilles. N uts, plummes, and berryes, there doe cherish well T he Robin sweet, and sweeter Philomel. W hen winter comes the poore finde warming there, E xcepted not against for his most deare N ame that accompts them his: and worke there made M aintaines the handler of the axe and spade. A nd (which is most to be admir'd of all) N o losse but more encrease doth still befall. R are things, but see what blessings heauens hye W ill render those whose mindes are heauenly. Meliden I now perceiue his noble name by thee, And doe by him perceiue Nobilitie In thy Content, so foster'd by his grace And favour who descends of noble race. How might I now requite thy honest Muse? Chantlet For me thy best requitall is to scuse My simple verse, that being ty'd to letters Thus puts the Muse (that should be free) in fetters. But since I able am to doe no more In my Mecænas right then this so poore, While here my flock by help of Summer showers The healing spoyles of the sharpe sythe devoures, Or winters enuy makes the swayne anew To spred the fodder where before it grew, This pipe of mine shall fill succeeding dayes With neuer silenc'd Musick in his praise. And while with streames of wealth and pure good will Our amourous neighbour Thame doth hourely fill The lap of his belou'd, and doth no lesse Therewith this house and lands his minions blesse, As long as I upon his feilds shall feed My slender flock, of such as there I breed He shall haue fruits, with honours of the Muse Whose simple state he doth so nobly use. Meliden I neuer will thee (Chantlet) more perswade From the Sun-shine into our woodland shade. Contented Shep-heard, here repose thee still, In low and louely vale: and while our hill Eccho's applauding answere to thy notes, Leade thy well-likeing lambes unto their cotes. Chantlet And, restles Neat-heard, thinke not wealth to gaine By lewd encroachings, or aspirings vaine, But learne to be contented with thine owne, (There's neither thrift nor ioy in what is stolne): And homeward turne thy heard of harmefull cowes, That now upon thy neighbours beeches browze. Chantlets Emblem Seque, suus animus placitus, res possidet omnes. Melidens Emblem Nec sua, nec se, mens insatiata tenet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTHENOPHE: SONNET 66 by BARNABE BARNES I UNCOIL MYSELF AND LIE STRAIGHT OUT by DAVID IGNATOW WITHOUT RECRIMINATION by DAVID IGNATOW EVENTIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL by DORIANNE LAUX TO TWO UNKNOWN LADIES by AMY LOWELL ELEGY ON MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by WILLIAM BASSE |
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