Nashe, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1592 (Annals) comedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
But when to ripen harvest I was forced, To make my rays more fervent than I wont, For Daphne's wrongs and scapes in Thetis lap, All Gods are subject to the like mishap. Stars daily fall ('tis use is all in all) And men account the fall but nature's course: Vaunting my jewels, hasting to the West, Or rising early from the grey eyed morn. What do I vaunt but your large bountihood And show how liberal a Lord I serve. Music and poetry, my two last crimes, Are those two exercises of delight, Wherewith long labours I do weary out. The dying Swan is not forbid to sing. The waves of Heber played on Orpheus strings, When he (sweet music's trophy) was destroyed. And as for Poetry, wood's eloquence, (Dead Phaeton's three sisters' funeral tears That by the gods were to Electrum turned) Not flint, or rocks of Icy cinders framed, Deny the source of silver-falling streams. Envy envieth not outcries unrest: In vain I plead, well, is to me a fault, And these my words seem the flight web of art, And not to have the taste of sounder truth. Let none but fools, be cared for of the wise; Knowledge own children, knowledge most despise. Thou know'st too much, to know to keep the mean. He that sees all things, oft sees not himself. The Thames is witness of thy tyranny, Whose waves thou hast exhaust for winter showers. The naked channel plains her of thy spite, That laidst her entrails unto open sight. Unprofitably borne to man and beast, Which like to Nilus yet doth hide his head, Some few years since thou let'st o'erflow these walks, And in the horse-race headlong ran at race, While in a cloud, thou hidest thy burning face: Where was thy care to rid contagious filth, When some men wet-shod, (with his waters) drooped? Others that ate the Eels his heat cast up, Sickened and dyde by them empoisoned. Sleep'st thou, or keep'st thou then Admetus' sheep, Thou drivest not back these flowings to the deep? The winds, not I, have floods & tides in chase: Diana, whom our fables call the moon, Only commandeth o'er the raging main, She leads his wallowing offspring up and down, She waning, all streams ebb in the year: She was eclipsed, when that the Thames was bare. A bare conjecture, builded on perhaps; In laying thus the blame upon the moon, Thou imitatest subtle Pythagoras, Who, what he would the people should believe, The same he wrote with blood upon a glass, And turned it opposite 'gainst the new moon; Whose beams reflecting on it with full force, Showed all those lines, to them that stood behind, Most plainly writ in circle of the moon, And then he said, Not I, but the new moon Fair Cynthia persuades you this and that; With like collusion shalt thou not blind me: But for abusing both the moon and me, Long shalt thou be eclipsed by the moon, And long in darkness live, and see no light. A way with him, his doom hath no reverse.
seed 43: T49 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But when to ripen haruest I was forc'st, To make my rayes more feruent then I wont, For Daphnes wrongs and scapes in Thetis lap, All Gods are subiect to the like mishap. Starres daily fall (t'is vse is all in all) And men account the fall but natures course: Vaunting my iewels, hasting to the West, Or rising early from the gray ei'de morne. What do I vaunt but your large bountihood And shew how liberall a Lord I serue. Musique and poetrie, my two last crimes, Are those two exercises of delight, Wherewithlong labours I doe weary out. The dying Swanne is not forbid to sing. The waues of Heber playd on Orpheus strings, When he (sweete musiques Trophe) was destroyd. And as for Poetry, woods eloquence, (Dead Phaetons three sisters funerall teares That by the gods were to Electrum turnd) Not flint, or rockes of Icy cynders fram'd, Deny the sourse of siluer-falling streames. Enuy enuieth not outcryes vnrest: In vaine I pleade, well, is to me a fault, And these my words seeme the flyght webbe of arte, And not to haue the taste of sounder truth. Let none but fooles, be car'd for of the wise; Knowledge owne children, knowledge most despise. Thou know'st too much, to know to keepe the meane. He that sees all things, oft sees not himselfe. The Thames is witnesse of thy tyranny, Whose waues thou hast exhaust for winter showres. The naked channell playnes her of thy spite, That laid'st her intrailes vnto open sight. Vnprofitably borne to man and beast, Which like to Nilus yet doth hide his head, Some few yeares since thou let'st o'reflow these walks, And in the horse-race headlong ran at race, While in a cloude, thou hid'st thy burning face: Where was thy care to rid contagious filth, When some men wetshod, (with his waters) droupt? Others that ate the Eeles his heate cast vp, Sickned and dyde by them impoysoned. Sleep'st thou, or keep'st thou then Admetus sheepe, Thou driu'st not back these flowings to the deepe? The winds, not I, haue floods & tydes in chase: Diana, whom our fables call the moone, Only commaundeth o're the raging may ne, Shee leads his wallowing ofspring vp and downe, Shee wayning, all streames ebbe in the yeare: Shee was eclipst, when that the Thames was bare. A bare coniecture, builded on perhaps; In laying thus the blame vpon the moone, Thou imitat'st subtill Pithagoras, Who, what he would the people should beleeue, The same he wrote with blood vpon a glasse, And turnd it opposite gainst the new moone; Whose beames reflecting on it with full force, Shewd all those lynes, to them that stood behinde, Most playnly writ in circle of the moone, And then he said, Not I, but the new moone Faire Cynthia perswades you this and that; With like collusion shalt thou not blind mee: But for abusing both the moone and mee, Long shalt thou be eclipsed by the moone, And long in darknesse liue, and see no light. A way with him, his doome hath no reuerse.