Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Hardy M. Cook
Not Peer Reviewed

The Passionate Pilgrim (Octavo, 1599)

SWeet Cytherea, sitting by a Brooke,
With young Adonis, louely, fresh and greene,
45Did court the Lad with many a louely looke,
Such lookes as none could looke but beauties queen.
She told him stories, to delight his eares:
She shew'd him fauors, to allure his eie:
To win his hart, she toucht him here and there,
50Touches so soft still conquer chastitie.
But whether vnripe yeares did want conceit,
Or he refusde to take her figured proffer,
The tender nibler would not touch the bait,
But smile, and ieast, at euery gentle offer:
55 Then fell she on her backe, faire queen, & toward
He rose and ran away, ah foole too froward.
IF Loue make me forsworn, how shal I swere to loue?
O, neuer faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed:
Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile constant proue,
60those thoghts to me like Okes, to thee like Osiers bowed.
Studdy his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eies,
where all those pleasures liue, that Art can comprehend:
If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice:
Wel learned is that toung that well can thee commend,
65All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder,
Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admyre:
Thine eye Ioues lightning seems, thy voice his dreadfull thunder
which (not to anger bent) is musick & sweet fire
Celestiall as thou art, O, do not loue that wrong:
70 To sing heauens praise, with such an earthly toung.
SCarse had the Sunne dride vp the deawy morne,
And scarse the heard gone to the hedge for shade:
When Cytherea (all in Loue forlorne)
A longing tariance for Adonis made
75Vnder an Osyer growing by a brooke,
A brooke, where Adon vsde to coole his spleene:
Hot was the day, she hotter that did looke
For his approch, that often there had beene.
Anon he comes, and throwes his Mantle by,
80And stood starke naked on the brookes greene brim:
The Sunne look't on the world with glorious eie,
Yet not so wistly, as this Queene on him:
He spying her, bounst in (whereas he stood)
Oh IOVE (quoth she) why was not I a flood?