She told me all her friends had said; But in my words were seeds of fire. "Through slander, meanest spawn of hell,- We parted; sweetly gleamed the stars, So fresh they rose in shadowed swells; PROTHALAMION CALM was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair; Through discontent of my long fruitless stay In Prince's Court, and expectation vain Of idle hopes, which still do fly away, Prothalamion Along the shore of silver streaming Thames; And all the meads adorned with dainty gems, And crown their paramours Against the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. There, in a meadow, by the river's side, And each one had a little wicker basket, Made of fine twigs, entrailèd curiously, 1179 In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket, Of every sort, which in that meadow grew, To deck their bridegroom's posies Against the bridal day, which was not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. With that I saw two swans of goodly hue The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew, Did never whiter shew, Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be For love of Leda, whiter did appear; Yet Leda was, they say, as white as he, Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near; So purely white they were, That even the gentle stream, the which them bare, Seemed foul to them, and bade his billows spare That shone as heaven's light, Against their bridal day, which was not long: Eftsoons the nymphs, which now had flowers their fill, As they came floating on the crystal flood; Their wondering eyes to fill; Them seemed they never saw a sight so fair Of fowls so lovely, that they sure did deem To be begot of any earthly seed, But rather angels, or of angels' breed; Yet were they bred of summer's heat, they say, So fresh they seemed as day, Even as their bridal day, which was not long: Then forth they all out of their baskets drew That like old Peneus' waters they did seem, When down along by pleasant Tempe's shore, Two of those nymphs, meanwhile, two garlands bound Prothalamion The which presenting all in trim array, 1181 Their snowy foreheads therewithal they crowned, Prepared against that day, Against their bridal day, which was not long: "Ye gentle birds! the world's fair ornament, And let fair Venus, that is queen of love, Let endless peace your steadfast hearts accord, And make your joys redound Upon your bridal day, which is not long": So ended she: and all the rest around Which said their bridal day should not be long: So forth those joyous birds did pass along, And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell Did on those two attend, And their best service lend Against their wedding day, which was not long: At length they all to merry London came, There when they came, whereas those bricky towers Next whereunto there stands a stately place, Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell, But ah! here fits not well Old woes, but joys, to tell Against the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory, and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear: Fair branch of honor, flower of chivalry! That fillest England with thy triumph's fame, Joy have thou of thy noble victory, And endless happiness of thine own name, That promiseth the same; That through thy prowess, and victorious arms, And great Elisa's glorious name may ring Through all the world, filled with thy wide alarms, To ages following, |