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The Healing Tree Botanicals Remedies and Rituals From African Folk Traditions Stephanie Rose Bird PDF Download

The document discusses 'The Healing Tree Botanicals Remedies and Rituals' by Stephanie Rose Bird, which explores African folk traditions related to healing. It also includes links to various other recommended books on healing and spirituality. Additionally, there are excerpts from classical poetry, reflecting themes of love, beauty, and nature.

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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
55 views32 pages

The Healing Tree Botanicals Remedies and Rituals From African Folk Traditions Stephanie Rose Bird PDF Download

The document discusses 'The Healing Tree Botanicals Remedies and Rituals' by Stephanie Rose Bird, which explores African folk traditions related to healing. It also includes links to various other recommended books on healing and spirituality. Additionally, there are excerpts from classical poetry, reflecting themes of love, beauty, and nature.

Uploaded by

vrjbsfwq920
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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The Healing Tree Botanicals Remedies And Rituals

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Usque adeo latet utilitas.
THE TWENTY-FIRST IDILLION.
Argument.
A Neatherd is brought chafing that Eunica, a Maid of the city,
disdained to kiss him. Whereby it is thought that Theocritus
seemeth to check them that think this kind of writing in Poetry
to be too base and rustical. And therefore this Poem is termed
Neatherd.

NEATHERD.
Unica scorned me, when her I would have sweetly kist
And railing at me said, "Go with a mischief, where thou
list!
Thinkest thou, a wretched Neatherd, me to kiss! I have
no will
After the country guise to smouch! Of city lips I skill!
My lovely mouth, so much as in thy dream, thou shalt
not touch!
How dost thou look! How dost thou talk! How play'st
thou the slouch!
How daintily thou speak'st! What Courting words thou bringest out!
How soft a beard thou hast! How fair thy locks hang round about!
Thy lips are like a sick man's lips! thy hands, so black they be!
And rankly thou dost smell! Away, lest thou defilest me!"
Having thus said, she spattered on her bosom twice or thrice;
And, still beholding me from top to toe in scornful wise,
She muttered with her lips; and with her eyes she looked aside,
And of her beauty wondrous coy she was; her mouth she wryed,
And proudly mocked me to my face. My blood boiled in each vein,
And red I wox for grief as doth the rose with dewy rain.
Thus leaving me, away she flang! Since when, it vexeth me
That I should be so scorned of such a filthy drab as She.
"Ye shepherds, tell me true, am not I as fair as any swan?
Hath of a sudden any god made me another man?
For well I wot, before a comely grace in me did shine,
Like ivy round about a tree, and decked this beard of mine.
My crispèd locks, like parsley, on my temples wont to spread;
And on my eyebrows black a milk white forehead glisterèd:
More seemly were mine eyes than are Minerva's eyes, I know.
My mouth for sweetness passèd cheese; and from my mouth did
flow
A voice more sweet than honeycombs. Sweet is my Roundelay
When on the whistle, flute, or pipe, or cornet I do play.
And all the women on our hills do say that I am fair,
And all do love me well: but these that breathe the city air
Did never love me yet. And why? The cause is this I know.
That I a Neatherd am. They hear not how in vales below,
Fair Bacchus kept a herd of beasts. Nor can these nice ones tell
How Venus, raving for a Neatherd's love, with him did dwell
Upon the hills of Phrygia; and how she loved again
Adonis in the woods, and mourned in woods when he was slain.
Who was Endymion? Was he not a Neatherd? Yet the Moon
Did love this Neatherd so, that, from the heavens descending soon,
She came to Latmos grove where with the dainty lad she lay.
And Rhea, thou a Neatherd dost bewail! and thou, all day,
O mighty Jupiter! but for a shepherd's boy didst stray!
Eunica only, deigned not a Neatherd for to love:
Better, forsooth, than Cybel, Venus, or the Moon above!
And Venus, thou hereafter must not love thy fair Adone
In city, nor on hill! but all the night must sleep alone!"

Emblem.

Habitarunt Dii quoque sylvas.


THE THIRTY-FIRST IDILLION.
Argument
The conceit of this Idillion is very delicate. Wherein it is imagined
how Venus did send for the Boar who in hunting slew Adonis, a
dainty youth whom she loved: and how the Boar answering for
himself that he slew him against his will, as being enamoured
on him, and thinking only to kiss his naked thigh; she forgave
him. The Poet's drift is to shew the power of Love, not only in
men, but also in brute beasts: although in the last two verses,
by the burning of the Boar's amorous teeth, he intimateth that
extravagant and unorderly passions are to be restrained by
reason.

ADONIS.
Hen Venus first did see
Adonis dead to be;
With woeful tattered hair
And cheeks so wan and sear,
The wingèd Loves she bade,
The Boar should straight be had.
Forthwith like birds they fly,
And through the wood they hie;
The woeful beast they find,
And him with cords they bind.
One with a rope before
Doth lead the captive Boar:
Another on his back
Doth make his bow to crack.
The beast went wretchedly,
For Venus horribly
He feared; who thus him curst:
"Of all the beasts the worst,
Didst thou this thigh so wound?
Didst thou my Love confound?"
The beast thus spake in fear
"Venus, to thee I swear!
By thee, and husband thine,
And by these bands of mine,
And by these hunters all,
Thy husband fair and tall,
I mindèd not to kill!
But, as an image still,
I him beheld for love:
Which made me forward shove
His thigh, that naked was;
Thinking to kiss, alas,
And that hath hurt me thus.
"Wherefore these teeth, Venus!
Or punish, or cut out:
Why bear I in my snout
These needless teeth about!
If these may not suffice;
Cut off my chaps likewise!"
To ruth he Venus moves,
And she commands the Loves,
His bands for to untie.
After he came not nigh
The wood; but at her will
He followed Venus still.
And coming to the fire,
He burnt up his desire.

Emblem.

Raris forma viris, secula prospice


Impunita fuit.

FINIS.
The Affectionate
Shepheard.

Containing the Complaint of Daphnis


for
the loue of Ganymede.

Amor plus mellis, quam fellis, est.


LONDON,
Printed by Iohn Danter for T.G. and
E.N.
and are to bee sold in Saint
Dunstones
Church-yeard in Fleetstreet,
1 5 9 4.
To the Right Excellent
and most beautifull Lady, the Ladie
PENELOPE RITCH.
Ayre louely Ladie, vvhose Angelique eyes
Are Vestall Candles of sweet Beauties
Treasure,
Whose speech is able to inchaunt the
wise,
Conuerting Ioy to Paine, and Paine to
Pleasure;
Accept this simple Toy of my Soules
Dutie,
Which I present vnto thy matchles
Beautie.

And albeit the gift be all too meane,


Too meane an Offring for thine Iuorie Shrine;
Yet must thy Beautie my iust blame susteane,
Since it is mortall, but thy selfe diuine.
Then (Noble Ladie) take in gentle vvorth,
This new-borne Babe which here my Muse brings
forth.

Your Honours most affectionate


and perpetually deuoted Shepheard:
DAPHNIS.
The Teares of an
affectionate Shepheard sicke

for Loue.

OR
The Complaint of Daphnis for the Loue
of Ganimede.
Carce had the morning Starre hid from the light
Heauens crimson Canopie with stars bespangled,
But I began to rue th'vnhappy sight
Of that faire Boy that had my hart intangled;
Cursing the Time, the Place, the sense, the sin;
I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.

If it be sinne to loue a sweet-fac'd Boy,


(Whose amber locks trust vp in golden tramels
Dangle adowne his louely cheekes with ioy,
When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels)
If it be sinne to loue a louely Lad;
Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad.

His Iuory-white and Alabaster skin


Is staind throughout with rare Vermillion red,
Whose twinckling starrie lights do neuer blin
To shine on louely Venus (Beauties bed:)
But as the Lillie and the blushing Rose,
So white and red on him in order growes.

Vpon a time the Nymphs bestird them-selues


To trie who could his beautie soonest win:
But he accounted them but all as Elues,
Except it were the faire Queene Guendolen,
Her he embrac'd, of her was beloued,
With plaints he proued, and with teares he moued.

But her an Old-Man had beene sutor too,


That in his age began to doate againe;
Her would he often pray, and often woo,
When through old-age enfeebled was his Braine:
But she before had lou'd a lustie youth
That now was dead, the cause of all her ruth.
at o as dead, t e cause o a e ut

And thus it hapned, Death and Cupid met


Vpon a time at swilling Bacchus house,
Where daintie cates vpon the Board were set,
And Goblets full of wine to drinke carouse:
Where Loue and Death did loue the licor so,
That out they fall and to the fray they goe.

And hauing both their Quiuers at their backe


Fild full of Arrows; Th'one of fatall steele,
The other all of gold; Deaths shaft was black,
But Loues was yellow: Fortune turnd her wheele;
And from Deaths Quiuer fell a fatall shaft,
That vnder Cupid by the winde was waft.

And at the same time by ill hap there fell


Another Arrow out of Cupids Quiuer;
The which was carried by the winde at will,
And vnder Death the amorous shaft did shiuer:
They being parted, Loue tooke vp Deaths dart,
And Death tooke vp Loues Arrow (for his part.)

Thus as they wandred both about the world,


At last Death met with one of feeble age:
Wherewith he drew a shaft and at him hurld
The vnknowne Arrow; (with a furious rage)
Thinking to strike him dead with Deaths blacke dart,
But he (alas) with Loue did wound his hart.

This was the doting foole, this was the man


That lou'd faire Guendolena Queene of Beautie;
Shee cannot shake him off, doo what she can,
For he hath vowd to her his soules last duety:
Making him trim vpon the holy-daies;
And crownes his Loue with Garlands made of Baies.

Now doth he stroke his Beard; and now (againe)


o dot e st o e s ea d; a d o (aga e)
He wipes the driuel from his filthy chin;
Now offers he a kisse; but high Disdaine
Will not permit her hart to pity him:
Her hart more hard than Adamant or steele,
Her hart more changeable than Fortunes wheele.

But leaue we him in loue (vp to the eares)


And tell how Loue behau'd himselfe abroad;
Who seeing one that mourned still in teares
(a young-man groaning vnder Loues great Load)
Thinking to ease his Burden, rid his paines:
For men haue griefe as long as life remaines.

Alas (the while) that vnawares he drue


The fatall shaft that Death had dropt before;
By which deceit great harme did then issue,
Stayning his face with blood and filthy goare.
His face, that was to Guendolen more deere
Than loue of Lords, of any lordly Peere.

This was that faire and beautifull young-man,


Whom Guendolena so lamented for;
This is that Loue whom she doth curse and ban,
Because she doth that dismall chaunce abhor:
And if it were not for his Mothers sake,
Euen Ganimede himselfe she would forsake.

Oh would shee would forsake my Ganimede,


Whose sugred loue is full of sweete delight,
Vpon whose fore-head you may plainely reade
Loues Pleasure, grau'd in yuorie Tables bright:
In whose faire eye-balls you may clearely see
Base Loue still staind with foule indignitie.

Oh would to God he would but pitty mee,


That loue him more than any mortall wight;
Then he and I with loue would soone agree
Then he and I with loue would soone agree,
That now cannot abide his Sutors sight.
O would to God (so I might haue my fee)
My lips were honey, and thy mouth a Bee.

Then shouldst thou sucke my sweete and my faire flower


That now is ripe, and full of honey-berries:
Then would I leade thee to my pleasant Bower
Fild full of Grapes, of Mulberries, and Cherries;
Then shouldst thou be my Waspe or else my Bee,
I would thy hiue, and thou my honey bee.

I would put amber Bracelets on thy wrests,


Crownets of Pearle about thy naked Armes:
And when thou sitst at swilling Bacchus feasts
My lips with charmes should saue thee from all harmes:
And when in sleepe thou tookst thy chiefest Pleasure,
Mine eyes should gaze vpon thine eye-lids Treasure.

And euery Morne by dawning of the day,


When Phœbus riseth with a blushing face,
Siluanus Chappel-Clarkes shall chaunt a Lay,
And play thee hunts-vp in thy resting place:
My Coote thy Chamber, my bosome thy Bed;
Shall be appointed for thy sleepy head.

And when it pleaseth thee to walke abroad,


(Abroad into the fields to take fresh ayre:)
The Meades with Floras treasure should be strowde,
(The mantled meaddowes, and the fields so fayre.)
And by a siluer Well (with golden sands)
Ile sit me downe, and wash thine yuory hands.

And in the sweltring heate of summer time,


I would make Cabinets for thee (my Loue:)
Sweet-smelling Arbours made of Eglantine
Should be thy shrine, and I would be thy Doue.
Coole Cabinets of fresh greene Laurell boughs
Coole Cabinets of fresh greene Laurell boughs
Should shadow vs, ore-set with thicke-set Eughes.

Or if thou list to bathe thy naked limbs,


Within the Christall of a Pearle-bright brooke,
Paued with dainty pibbles to the brims;
Or cleare, wherein thyselfe thy selfe mayst looke;
Weele goe to Ladon, whose still trickling noyse,
Will lull thee fast asleepe amids thy ioyes.

Or if thoult goe vnto the Riuer side,


To angle for the sweet fresh-water fish:
Arm'd with thy implements that will abide
(Thy rod, hooke, line) to take a dainty dish;
Thy rods shall be of cane, thy lines of silke,
Thy hooks of siluer, and thy bayts of milke.

Or if thou lou'st to heare sweet Melodie,


Or pipe a Round vpon an Oaten Reede,
Or make thy selfe glad with some myrthfull glee,
Or play them Musicke whilst thy flocke doth feede;
To Pans owne Pipe Ile helpe my louely Lad,
(Pans golden Pype) which he of Syrinx had.

Or if thou dar'st to climbe the highest Trees


For Apples, Cherries, Medlars, Peares, or Plumbs,
Nuts, Walnuts, Filbeards, Chest-nuts, Ceruices,
The hoary Peach, when snowy winter comes;
I have fine Orchards full of mellowed frute;
Which I will giue thee to obtain my sute.

Not proud Alcynous himselfe can vaunt,


Of goodlier Orchards or of brauer Trees
Than I haue planted; yet thou wilt not graunt
My simple sute; but like the honey Bees
Thou suckst the flowre till all the sweet be gone;
And lou'st mee for my Coyne till I haue none.
Leave Guendolen (sweet hart) though she be faire
Yet is she light; not light in vertue shining:
But light in her behauiour, to impaire
Her honour in her Chastities declining;
Trust not her teares, for they can watonnize,
When teares in pearle are trickling from her eyes.

If thou wilt come and dwell with me at home;


My sheep-cote shall be strowd with new greene rushes:
Weele haunt the trembling Prickets as they rome
About the fields, along the hauthorne bushes;
I haue a pie-bald Curre to hunt the Hare:
So we will liue with daintie forrest fare.

Nay more than this, I haue a Garden-plot,


Wherein there wants nor hearbs, nor roots, nor flowers;
(Flowers to smell, roots to eate, hearbs for the pot,)
And dainty Shelters when the Welkin lowers:
Sweet-smelling Beds of Lillies and of Roses,
Which Rosemary banks and Lauender incloses.

There growes the Gilliflowre, the Mynt, the Dayzie


(Both red and white,) the blew-veynd-Violet:
The purple Hyacinth, the Spyke to please thee,
The scarlet dyde Carnation bleeding yet;
The Sage, the Sauery, and sweet Margerum,
Isop, Tyme, and Eye-bright, good for the blinde and dumbe.

The Pinke, the Primrose, Cowslip, and Daffadilly,


The Hare-bell blue, the crimson Cullumbine,
Sage, Lettis, Parsley, and the milke-white Lilly,
The Rose, and speckled flowre cald Sops in wine,
Fine pretie King-cups, and the yellow Bootes,
That growes by Riuers, and by shallow Brookes.

And manie thousand moe (I cannot name)


Of h b d fl th t i d
Of hearbs and flowers that in gardens grow,
I haue for thee; and Coneyes that be tame,
Yong Rabbets, white as Swan, and blacke as Crow,
Some speckled here and there with daintie spots:
And more I haue two mylch and milke-white Goates.

All these, and more, Ile giue thee for thy loue;
If these, and more, may tyce thy loue away:
I haue a Pidgeon-house, in it a Doue,
Which I loue more than mortall tongue can say:
And last of all, Ile giue thee a little Lambe
To play withall, new weaned from her Dam.

But if thou wilt not pittie my Complaint,


My Teares, nor Vowes, nor Oathes, made to thy Beautie:
What shall I doo? But languish, die, or faint,
Since thou dost scorne my Teares, and my Soules Duetie:
And Teares contemned, Vowes and Oaths must faile;
For where Teares cannot, nothing can preuaile.

Compare the loue of faire Queene Guendolin


With mine, and thou shalt [s]ee how she doth loue thee:
I loue thee for thy qualities diuine,
But She doth loue another Swaine aboue thee:
I loue thee for thy gifts, She for hir pleasure;
I for thy Vertue, She for Beauties treasure.

And alwaies (I am sure) it cannot last,


But sometime Nature will denie those dimples:
In steed of Beautie (when thy Blossom's past)
Thy face will be deformed, full of wrinckles:
Then She that lou'd thee for thy Beauties sake,
When Age drawes on, thy loue will soone forsake.

But I that lou'd thee for thy gifts diuine,


In the December of thy Beauties waning,
Will still admire (with ioy) those louely eine,
That now behold me with their beauties baning:
Though Ianuarie will neuer come againe,
Yet Aprill yeres will come in showers of raine.

When will my May come, that I may embrace thee?


When will the hower be of my soules ioying?
Why dost thou seeke in mirthe still to disgrace mee?
Whose mirth's my health, whose griefe's my harts annoying.
Thy bane my bale, thy blisse my blessednes,
Thy ill my hell, thy weale my welfare is.

Thus doo I honour thee that loue thee so,


And loue thee so, that so doo honour thee,
Much more than anie mortall man doth know,
Or can discerne by Loue or Iealozie:
But if that thou disdainst my louing euer;
Oh happie I, if I had loued neuer. Finis.

Plus fellis quam mellis Amor.


The second Dayes Lamentation
of
the Affectionate Shepheard.
Ext Morning when the golden Sunne was risen,
And new had bid good morrow to the Mountaines;
When Night her siluer light had lockt in prison,
Which gaue a glimmering on the christall Fountaines:
Then ended sleepe: and then my cares began,
Eu'n with the vprising of the siluer Swan.

O glorious Sunne quoth I, (viewing the Sunne)


That lightenst euerie thing but me alone:
Why is my Summer season almost done?
My Spring-time past, and Ages Autumne gone?
My Haruest's come, and yet I reapt no corne:
My loue is great, and yet I am forlorne.

Witnes these watrie eyes my sad lament


(Receauing cisternes of my ceaseles teares),
Witnes my bleeding hart my soules intent,
Witnes the weight distressed Daphnis beares:
Sweet Loue, come ease me of thy burthens paine;
Or els I die, or else my hart is slaine.

And thou loue-scorning Boy, cruell, vnkinde;


Oh let me once againe intreat some pittie:
May be thou wilt relent thy marble minde,
And lend thine eares vnto my dolefull Dittie:
Oh pittie him, that pittie craues so sweetly;
Or else thou shalt be neuer named meekly.

If thou wilt loue me, thou shalt be my Boy,


My sweet Delight, the Comfort of my minde,
My Loue, my Doue, my Sollace, and my Ioy:
But if I can no grace nor mercie finde,
Ile goe to Caucasus to ease my smart,
And let a Vulture gnaw vpon my hart.
Yet if thou wilt but show me one kinde looke
(A small reward for my so great affection)
Ile graue thy name in Beauties golden Booke,
And shrowd thee vnder Hellicons protection;
Making the Muses chaunt thy louely prayse:
(For they delight in Shepheards lowly layes.)

And when th'art wearie of thy keeping Sheepe


Vpon a louely Downe, (to please thy minde)
Ile giue thee fine ruffe-footed Doues to keepe,
And pretie Pidgeons of another kinde:
A Robbin-red-brest shall thy Minstrell bee,
Chirping thee sweet, and pleasant Melodie.

Or if thou wilt goe shoote at little Birds


With bow and boult (the Thrustle-cocke and Sparrow)
Such as our Countrey hedges can afford's;
I haue a fine bowe, and an yuorie arrow:
And if thou misse, yet meate thou shalt [not] lacke,
Ile hang a bag and bottle at thy backe.

Wilt thou set springes in a frostie Night,


To catch the long-billd Woodcocke and the Snype?
(By the bright glimmering of the Starrie light)
The Partridge, Phæsant, or the greedie Grype?
Ile lend thee lyme-twigs, and fine sparrow calls,
Wherewith the Fowler silly Birds inthralls.

Or in a mystie morning if thou wilt


Make pit-falls for the Larke and Pheldifare;
Thy prop and sweake shall be both ouer-guilt;
With Cyparissus selfe thou shalt compare
For gins and wyles, the Oozels to beguile;
Whilst thou vnder a bush shalt sit and smile.

Or with Hare-pypes (set in a muset hole)


Wilt thou deceaue the deep-earth-deluing Coney?
t t ou deceaue t e deep ea t de u g Co ey
Or wilt thou in a yellow Boxen bole,
Taste with a woodden splent the sweet lythe honey?
Clusters of crimson Grapes Ile pull thee downe;
And with Vine-leaues make thee a louely Crowne.

Or wilt thou drinke a cup of new-made Wine


Froathing at top, mixt with a dish of Creame;
And Straw-berries, or Bil-berries in their prime,
Bath'd in a melting Sugar-Candie streame:
Bunnell and Perry I haue for thee (alone)
When Vynes are dead, and all the Grapes are gone.

I have a pleasant noted Nightingale,


(That sings as sweetly as the siluer Swan)
Kept in a Cage of bone; as white as Whale,
Which I with singing of Philemon wan:
Her shalt thou haue, and all I haue beside;
If thou wilt be my Boy, or else my Bride.

Then will I lay out all my Lardarie


(Of Cheese, of Cracknells, Curds and Clowted-creame)
Before thy male-content ill-pleasing eye:
But why doo I of such great follies dreame?
Alas, he will not see my simple Coate;
For all my speckled Lambe, nor milk-white Goate.

Against my Birth-day thou shalt be my guest:


Weele haue Greene-cheeses and fine Silly-bubs;
And thou shalt be the chiefe of all my feast.
And I will giue thee two fine pretie Cubs,
With two young Whelps, to make thee sport withall,
A golden Racket, and a Tennis-ball.

A guilded Nutmeg, and a race of Ginger,


A silken Girdle, and a drawn-worke Band,
Cuffs for thy wrists, a gold Ring for thy finger,
And sweet Rose-water for thy Lilly-white hand
And sweet Rose water for thy Lilly white hand,
A Purse of silke, bespangd with spots of gold,
As braue a one as ere thou didst behold.

A paire of Kniues, a greene Hat and a Feather,


New Gloues to put vpon thy milk-white hand
Ile giue thee, for to keep thee from the weather;
With Phœnix feathers shall thy Face be fand,
Cooling those Cheekes, that being cool'd wexe red,
Like Lillyes in a bed of Roses shed.

Why doo thy Corall lips disdaine to kisse,


And sucke that Sweete, which manie haue desired?
That Baulme my Bane, that meanes would mend my misse:
Oh let me then with thy sweete Lips b'inspired;
When thy Lips touch my Lips, my Lips will turne
To Corall too, and being cold yce will burne.

Why should thy sweete Loue-locke hang dangling downe,


Kissing thy girdle-steed with falling pride?
Although thy Skin be white, thy haire is browne:
Oh let not then thy haire thy beautie hide;
Cut off thy Locke, and sell it for gold wier:
(The purest gold is tryde in hottest fier).

Faire-long-haire-wearing Absolon was kild,


Because he wore it in a brauerie:
So that whiche gracde his Beautie, Beautie spild,
Making him subiect to vile slauerie,
In being hangd: a death for him too good,
That sought his owne shame, and his Fathers blood.

Againe, we read of old King Priamus,


(The haplesse syre of valiant Hector slaine)
That his haire was so long and odious
In youth, that in his age it bred his paine:
For if his haire had not been halfe so long,
His life had been and he had had no wrong
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