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The sixth muse
71
Thus Satan served is; what men allow
On idols in his Name; to him they do:
And now these Friers destroyers may be seene,
And wracks of that cities
And of that cities wrake the cause have been:
For none dare buy the smallest peace of ground,
So many annuel rents thereon are found,
And if he build thereon, doubtlesse he shall
Spend in long suits of Law his moyen all.
If some good salve cure not this sore, I fear
It shall be said, some time a town was there.
Good Gall, said I, some melancholious fit
Molests your Joviall sprite, and pregnat wit,
I would some Venus-heir might cure your sadnesse;
Repell your sorrowes, and repleage your gladnesse:
Therefore I'le quickelie go a herbarising
To cure that melancholik mood by snising.
Herewith we turne our pace, and down againe
Passe by the Windie gowle, unto the plaine;
And herbarising there a prettie while,
Galls lustie face blithly began to smile:
Guesse then how blith was I, if I had found
(I would not been so blith) a thousand pound.
Thus recreat, to boat againe we go,
And down the river smothly do we row,
Neerby Kinfaunes, which famous Longoveil
Sometime did hold; whose auncient sword of steele[1]
Remaines unto this day, and of that land
Is chiefest evident; on th'other hand
Elcho and Elcho park, wwhere Wallace haunted,[2]
A sure refuge, wwhen Englishmen he daunted;
On idols in his Name; to him they do:
And now these Friers destroyers may be seene,
And wracks of that cities
And of that cities wrake the cause have been:
For none dare buy the smallest peace of ground,
So many annuel rents thereon are found,
And if he build thereon, doubtlesse he shall
Spend in long suits of Law his moyen all.
If some good salve cure not this sore, I fear
It shall be said, some time a town was there.
Good Gall, said I, some melancholious fit
Molests your Joviall sprite, and pregnat wit,
I would some Venus-heir might cure your sadnesse;
Repell your sorrowes, and repleage your gladnesse:
Therefore I'le quickelie go a herbarising
To cure that melancholik mood by snising.
Herewith we turne our pace, and down againe
Passe by the Windie gowle, unto the plaine;
And herbarising there a prettie while,
Galls lustie face blithly began to smile:
Guesse then how blith was I, if I had found
(I would not been so blith) a thousand pound.
Thus recreat, to boat againe we go,
And down the river smothly do we row,
Neerby Kinfaunes, which famous Longoveil
Sometime did hold; whose auncient sword of steele[1]
Remaines unto this day, and of that land
Is chiefest evident; on th'other hand
Elcho and Elcho park, wwhere Wallace haunted,[2]
A sure refuge, wwhen Englishmen he daunted;
And