Rutter, Joseph · published 1635 · first performed or written 1634 [1633-1635] (Annals) pastoral · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
Well, we will think of this: Come Daphnis, come, I see you love my daughter, and you only Shall have her, it is I that tell you so, That am her Father. Thank you good Charinus: But I had rather she had told me so. THis day the Sun shot forth his beams as fair As ere he did, and through the trembling air Cool Zephyrus with gentle murmuring Breathed a new freshness on each Tree and Plant: My Kids as game some too, as ere they were; All show a face of gladness but myself. And why not you as well by their example? Not in this life, here joy would be untimely: The Gods reserve for me their comforts in Th' Elyzian fields, or else they mock my sorrows. O say not so, they're just and pitiful. They are, but Father, (so I still must call you) When in the sadness of my soul I asked Before the Altar of our great Apollo, What should become of me, or where my love Bright Silvia was, whether alive or dead, Why should the Oracle reply, Go home, Thou shalt enjoy thy Silvia? What more could you Desire to hear? ay, but when greedily I asked the time, the answer was, That day Thou art not Thirsis, nor she Silvia. Then in this life I'm sure it must not be, For I was Thyrsis ever called, and she Known by no other name then Sylvia. It may be for your importunity You might deserve this answer, or else is it Because the Gods speak not their mysteries To be conceived by every vulgar sense? I now remember what Acrisius, The wise and virtuous Acrisius Was wont to say. Why? what said he? Does it concern me aught? It may do son, He bid us fly all curiosity. Seeking to know what future time may bring To us, which only Gods above do know, And if at any time they do impart This knowledge unto us, it is enwrapped In such a mist, as we shall ne'er see through it: Because, said he, we have enough to do With what is present: the celestial powers Would not cut of our hopes, nor multiply Our cares, by showing us our destiny. Oh this discourse to a despairing lover, What comfort does it bring? for heaven's sake leave it, And me; for I am best, I find, alone: Yet stay, there's something that I fain would ask you: You said this Circle here about my neck Has so continued from my infancy, When first you took me up. 'tis true, that Circle Hung loosely then about your neck, which since Is filled with it. I left it there, because I saw some letters that were wrought about it. And may they not be read?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Well, we will thinke of this: Come Daphnis, come, I ſee you love my daughter, and you onely Shall have her, it is I that tell you ſo, That am her Father. Thanke you good Charinus: But I had rather ſhe had told me ſo. THis day the Sunne ſhot forth his beames as faire As ere he did, and through the trembling aire Coole Zephyrus with gentle murmuring Breath'd a new freſhneſſe on each Tree and Plant: My Kids as game ſome too, as ere they were; All ſhew a face of gladneſſe but my ſelfe. And why not you aſwell by their example? Not in this life, here joy would be untimely: The Gods reſerve for me their comforts in Th' Elyzian fields, or elſe they mocke my ſorrows. O ſay not ſo, they're juſt and pittifull. They are, but Father, (ſo I ſtill muſt call you) When in the ſadneſſe of my ſoule I askt Before the Altar of our great Apollo, What ſhould become of me, or where my love Bright Silvia was, whether alive or dead, Why ſhould the Oracle reply, Goe home, Thou ſhalt enjoy thy Silvia? What more could you Deſire to heare? I, but when greedily I askt the time, the anſwere was, That day Thou art not Thirſis, nor ſhe Silvia. Then in this life I'me ſure it muſt not be, For I was Thyrſis ever call'd, and ſhe Knowne by no other name then Sylvia. It may be for your importunity You might deſerve this anſwere, or elſe is it Becauſe the Gods ſpeake not their myſteries To be conceiv'd by every vulgar ſence? I now remember what Acriſius, The wiſe and vertuous Acriſius Was wont to ſay. Why? what ſaid he? Does it concerne me ought? It may do ſonne, He bid us flie all curioſitie. Seeking to know what future time may bring To us, which onely Gods above do know, And if at any time they do impart This knowledge unto us, it is inwrapt In ſuch a miſt, as we ſhall neere ſee through it: Becauſe, ſaid he, we have enough to doe With what is preſent: the celeſtiall powers Would not cut of our hopes, nor multiply Our cares, by ſhewing us our deſtinie. Oh this diſcourſe to a deſpairing lover, What comfort does it bring? for heavens ſake leave it, And me; for I am beſt, I finde, alone: Yet ſtay, there's ſomething that I faine would aske you: You ſaid this Circle here about my necke Has ſo continu'd from my infancie, When firſt you tooke me up. Tis true, that Circle Hung looſely then about your necke, which ſince Is filld with it. I left it there, becauſe I ſaw ſome letters that were wrought about it. And may they not be read?