more of nature
Than man her first born and most perfect creature,
Let me adore you; you that only can
Help or kill nature, drawing out that span
Of life and breath even to the end of time;
You that these hands did crop, long before prime
Of day; give me your names, and next your hidden power.
This is the _Clote_ bearing a yellow flower,
And this black Horehound, both are very good
For sheep or Shepherd, bitten by a wood-
Dogs venom'd tooth; these Ramuns branches are,
Which stuck in entries, or about the bar
That holds the door fast, kill all inchantments, charms,
Were they _Medeas_ verses that doe harms
To men or cattel; these for frenzy be
A speedy and a soveraign remedie,
The bitter Wormwood, Sage, and Marigold,
Such sympathy with mans good they do hold;
This Tormentil, whose vertue is to part
All deadly killing poyson from the heart;
And here _Narcissus_ roots for swellings be:
Yellow _Lysimacus_, to give sweet rest
To the faint Shepherd, killing where it comes
All busie gnats, and every fly that hums:
For leprosie, Darnel, and Sellondine,
With Calamint, whose vertues do refine
The blood of man, making it free and fair
As the first hour it breath'd, or the best air.
Here other two, but your rebellious use
Is not for me, whose goodness is abuse;
Therefore foul Standergrass, from me and mine
I banish thee, with lustful Turpentine,
You that intice the veins and stir the heat
To civil mutiny, scaling the seat
Our reason moves in, and deluding it
With dreams and wanton fancies, till the fit
Of burning lust be quencht; by appetite,
Robbing the soul of blessedness and light:
And thou light _Varvin_ too, thou must go after,
Provoking easie souls to mirth and laughter;
No more shall I dip thee in water now,
And sprinkle every post, and every bough
With thy well pleasing juyce, to make the grooms
Swell with high mirth, as with joy all the rooms.

_Enter_ Thenot.

_The_. This is the Cabin where the best of all
Her Sex, that ever breath'd, or ever shall
Give heat or happiness to the Shepherds side,
Doth only to her worthy self abide.
Thou blessed star, I thank thee for thy light,
Thou by whose power the darkness of sad night
Is banisht from the Earth, in whose dull place
Thy chaster beams play on the heavy face
Of all the world, making the blue Sea smile,
To see how cunningly thou dost beguile
Thy Brother of his brightness, giving day
Again from _Chaos_, whiter than that way
That leads to _Joves_ high Cour