The Faithful Shepherdess / The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Volume 2 of 10).

Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jonathan Ingram, Chjarles M. Bidwell
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Vol. 2 of 10)
Actus Primus. Scena Prima.
Enter Clorin a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour.
Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbrace The truest man that ever fed his flocks By the fat plains of fruitful Thessaly , Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I pay My early vows, and tribute of mine eyes To thy still loved ashes; thus I free My self from all insuing heats and fires Of love: all sports, delights and jolly games That Shepherds hold full dear, thus put I off. Now no more shall these smooth brows be begirt With youthful Coronals, and lead the Dance; No more the company of fresh fair Maids And wanton Shepherds be to me delightful, Nor the shrill pleasing sound of merry pipes Under some shady dell, when the cool wind Plays on the leaves: all be far away, Since thou art far away; by whose dear side How often have I sat Crown'd with fresh flowers For summers Queen, whil'st every Shepherds Boy Puts on his lusty green, with gaudy hook, And hanging scrip of finest Cordevan. But thou art gone, and these are gone with thee, And all are dead but thy dear memorie; That shall out-live thee, and shall ever spring Whilest there are pipes, or jolly Shepherds sing. And here will I in honour of thy love, Dwell by thy Grave, forgeting all those joys, That former times made precious to mine eyes, Only remembring what my youth did gain In the dark, hidden vertuous use of Herbs: That will I practise, and as freely give All my endeavours, as I gain'd them free. Of all green wounds I know the remedies In Men or Cattel, be they stung with Snakes, Or charm'd with powerful words of wicked Art, Or be they Love-sick, or through too much heat Grown wild or Lunatick, their eyes or ears Thickned with misty filme of dulling Rheum, These I can Cure, such secret vertue lies In Herbs applyed by a Virgins hand: My meat shall be what these wild woods afford, Berries, and Chesnuts, Plantanes, on whose Cheeks, The Sun sits smiling, and the lofty fruit Pull'd from the fair head of the staight grown Pine; On these I'le feed with free content and rest, When night shall blind the world, by thy side blest.