Robert Greene

Henry Upcher, in Greene's Arcadia (1610); Censura Literaria 7 (1808) 265-66.

Delicious words, the life of wanton wit,
That doth inspire our soules with sweet content,
Why hath our father Hermes thought it fit,
Mine eyes should surfet by my heart's consent?
Full twentie summers have I fading seene,
And twentie Floraes in their golden guise:
Yet never viewed I such a pleasant Greene,
As this whose garnisht gleades compared, devise.
Of all the flowers a Lilly once I lov'd,
Whose labouring beautie brancht it self abroad.
But now olde age his glory hath remov'd,
And greener objects are mine eyes abroad.
No countrey to the downes of Arcadie,
Where Aganippe's ever springing wels
Doe moist the meades with bubbling melodie,
And makes me muse what more in Delos dwels.
There feeds our Menaphon's celestial Muse,
There makes his pipe his pastorall report:
Which strained now a note above his use,
Fore-tels hee'le ne're come chaunt of Thoaes sport.
Read all that list, and read till you mislike
To condemne who can, so Envie be not Judge:
No, reade who can, swell more higher, lest it shreeke,
Robin, thou hast done well, care not who grudge.