EDMUND SPENSER

8 1. 'Prothalamion

��was the day, and through the trembling ayre Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre ; When I, (whom sullein care, Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay In Princes Court, and expectation vayne Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away, Like empty shaddowes, did afflict my brayne,) Walkt forth to ease my payne Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes; Whose rutty Bancke, the which his River hemmes, Was paynted all with variable flowers, And all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes Fit to decke maydens bowres, And crowne their Paramours Against 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,

All 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,

In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,

And with fine Fingers cropt full feateously

The tender stalkes on hye.

Of every sort, which in that Meadow grew,

They gathered some; the Violet, pallid blew,

�� �� �