The sea, which then was heauie, sad, and still,
Dull, vnapplyed to sportiue wantonnesse,
As if her first-borne Venus had beene ill,
Or Neptune seene the Sonne his loue possesse,
Or greater cares, that greatest comforts kill,
Had crowned with griefe, the worlds wet wildernesse,
Such was the still-foot Thetis silent paine,
Whose flowing teares, ebbing fell backe againe.
Thetis, the mother of the pleasant springs,
Grandam of all the Riuers in the world,
To whom earths veins their moistning tribut brings,
Now with a mad disturbed passion hurld,
About her caue (the worlds great treasure) flings:
And with wreath'd armes, and long wet hairs uncurld,
Within her selfe laments a losse vnlost,
And mones her wrongs, before her ioyes be crost
Thus whilst churning sorrowe ceaz'd her hart,
Grinuile (ô melt my spyrit in that name,)
As sings the Swan her funerall depart,
And waues her wings the ensignes of her fame,
So he, with vertue sweetning bitter smart,
Which from the seas long toyling seruice came:
For why, sixe Moones, and so oft times the Sunne
Was past, and had one halfe the signes ore-runne,
Ere he the earth, our common Mother saw;
Now earlie greets black Flores banefull Ile,
(Flores, from whence afflictions selfe doth draw
The true memorialls of a weeping stile;)
And with Caisters Querristers[1] which straw
Descant, that might Death of his darts beguile,
He tunes saluting notes, sweeter then long,
All which are made his last liues funerall song.
Skillesse in deaths great Parliament he cals
His fellow mat's, and minions to his fame,
Shewes them long lookt for land, and how it brauls,
Repulsing backe the billowes as they came,
Much he triumphes, and passed griefe for-stals
With present ioy (sorrow lights pleasures flame:)
And whilst his hopes of Happy-Fortune sings,
Misfortune by, controls them with her wings.
Desir'd reliefe, and euer welcome rest,
The elements that forme the wearie man,
Began to hold a counsaile in his brest,
Painting his wants by sicknes pale and wan;
With other griefes, that others force opprest,
Aduising stay, (as what is but they can,)
Whilst he that fate to come, and past, nere feard,
Concludes to stay till strength decayd repaird.
Then casts he Anchor hulling on the maine,
And all his shyps poore Citizens recounts,
And hundred iust were free from sicknes paine,
Fourscore and ten death their redress accounts;
So that of all both sicke and sound vnslaine,
Vnto two hundred wanting ten amounts.
A slender armie for so great a guide,
But vertue is vnknowne till it be tride.
Those whom their harts enabled to attempt,
He puts a shoare to make supplie for neede;
Those whom long sicknes taught of death contempt,
He visits, and from Ioues great Booke doth reede
The balme which mortall poysen doth exempt;
Those whom new breathing health like sucklings feed,
Hie to the sands, and sporting on the same,
Finde libertie, the liues best liuing flame.
Looke how a troope of Winter-prisoned Dames,
Pent in th' inclosure of the walled townes,
Welcoms the Spring, Vsher to Somer flames,
Making their Pastimes in the flowrie downes,
Whose beauteous Arras[2] wrought in natures frames,
Through eyes admire, the hart with wonder crownes,
So the wood-walled citizens at sea,
Welcome both Spring and Sommer in a day.
The warring byllowes, seas artillerie,
With long held siege, had bruz'd their beaten keele,
Which to repaire the most, most busied be,
Lab'ring to cure, what want in labours feele;
All pleas'd with toyle, clothing extremitie
In Hopes best robes, that hang on Fortunes wheele
But men are men, in ignorance of Fate,
To alter chaunce, exceedeth humaine state.