The Complete Poems of Richard Barnfield/Cynthia/T. T. in commendation of the Author, his Works
T. T. in commendation of the Authour, his Worke.
Whylom that in a shepheards gray coate masked
(Where masked loue the nonage of his skill),
Reares new Eagle-winged pen, new tasked,
To scale the by-clift Muse sole-pleasing hill:
Dropping sweete Nectar poesie from his quill,
Admires faire CYNTHIA with his iuory pen,
Faire CYNTHIA lou'd, fear'd, of Gods and men.
Downe sliding from that cloudes ore-pearing mounteine:
Decking with double grace the neighbour plaines,
Drawes chrystall dew, from PEGASE foote-sprung fountain,
Whose flower-set banks delights, sweet choice containes:
Nere yet discouerd to the country swaines:
Heere bud those branches, which adome his turtle,
With loue made garlands, of heart-bleeding Mirtle.
Rays'd from the cynders of the thrice-sact towne:
ILLIONS sooth-telling SYBILLIST appeares.
Eclipsing Phæbvs' loue, with scornefull frowne,
Whose tragicke end, affords warme-water teares,
Eor pitty wanting PACOE, none forbeares,
Such period haps, to beauties price ore-priz'd:
Where IANVS-faced loue, doth lurke disguiz'd.
Nere waining CYNTHIA yeelds thee triple thankes,
Whose beames vnborrowed darke the worlds faire eie.
And as full streames that euer fill their bankes,
So those rare Sonnets, where wits tipe doth lie,
With Troian Nimph, doe scare thy fame to skie.
And those, and these, contend thy Muse to raise
(Larke mounting Muse) with more then common praise.