Page:Works of Edmund Spenser - 1857.djvu/452

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

PROTHALAMION:

OR,

A SPOUSALL VERSE.

MADE BY

EDM. SPENSER,

In honour of the double marriage of the two honorable and vertuous ladies, the Ladie Elizabeth, and toe Ladie Katherine Somerset, daughters to the right honorable the Earle of Worcester, and espoused to the two worthie gentlemen, M. Henry Gilford and M. William Peter, Esquyers.

Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayreSweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly playA gentle spirit, that lightly did delayHot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre;When I (whom [whose] sullein care, 5Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stayIn princes court, and expectation vayneOf idle hopes, which still doe fly away,Like empty shaddowes, did aflict my brayne,)Walkt forth to ease my payne 10Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes;Whose rutty bank, the which his River hemmes,Was paynted all with variable flowers,And all the meades adornd with daintie gemmesFit to decke maydens bowres, 15And crowne their paramoursAgainst the brydale day, which is not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.
There, in a meadow, by the rivers side,A flocke of nymphes I chaunced to espy, 20All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde,As each had bene a bryde;And each one had a little wicker basket,Made of fine twigs, entrayled curiously, 25In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,And with fine fingers cropt full feateouslyThe tender stalkes on hye.Of every sort, which in that meadow grew, They gathered some; the violet, pallid blew, 30The little dazie, that at evening closes,The virgin lillie, and the primrose trew,With store of vermeil roses,To deck their bridegroomes posiesAgainst the brydale day, which was not long: 35 Sweete themmes! Runne softly, till I end my song.
With that I saw two swannes of goodly heweCome softly swimming downe along the lee;Two fairer birds I yet did never see;The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew, 40Did never whiter shew,Nor Jove himselfe, when he a swan would beFor love of Leda, whiter did appeare;Yet Leda was (the say) as white as he,Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near; 45So purely white they were,That even the gentle stream, the which them bare,Seem'd foule to them, and bad his billowes spareTo wet their silken feathers, least they mightSoyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, 50And marre their beauties bright,That shone as heavens light,Against their brydale day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.
Eftsoones the nymphes, which now had Flowers their fill,Ran all in haste, to see that silver brood,As they came floating on the cristal flood; 57Whom when they sawe, they stood amazed still,Their wondering eyes to fill;Them seem'd they never saw a sight so fayre, 60Of fowles, so lovely, that they sure did deemeThem heavenly borne, or to be that same payreWhich through the skie draw Venus silver teeme;For sure they did not seemeTo be begot of any earthly seede, 65But rather angels, or of angels breede;Yet were they bred of somers-heat, they say,In sweetest season, when each flower and weedeThe earth did fresh aray;So fresh they seem'd as day,Even as their brydale day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.