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THE DESCRIPTION OF THE SHEPHERD AND HIS WIFE.

Ir was near a thicky shade,

That broad leaves of beech had made,
Joining all their tops so nigh,
That scarce Phoebus in could pry,
To see if lovers in the thick
Could dally with a wanton trick;
Where sat the swain and his wife,
Sporting in that pleasing life,
That Coridon commendeth so,
All other lives to over-go.
He and she did sit and keep
Flocks of kids and folds of sheep:
He upon his pipe did play;
She tun'd voice unto his lay,
And, for you might her huswife know,
Voice did sing and fingers sew.
He was young: his coat was green,
With welts of white seam'd between,
Turned over with a flap

That breast and bosom in did wrap,
Skirts side and plighted + free,
Seemly hanging to his knee:
A whittle with a silver chape:
Cloak was russet, and the cape
Served for a bonnet oft

To shroud him from the wet aloft:

A leather scrip of colour red,
With a button on the head.
A bottle full of country whig‡
By the shepherd's side did lig; §
And in a little bush hard by,
There the shepherd's dog did lie,
Who, while his master gan to sleep,
Well could watch both kids and sheep.
The shepherd was a frolic swain;
For though his 'parel was but plain,
Yet doon the authors soothly say,
His colour was both fresh and gay,
And in their writs plain discuss,
Fairer was not Tityrus,

Nor Menalcas, whom they call
The alderliefest Tswain of all.
Seeming him was his wife,

**

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Fair she was as fair might be,
Like the roses on the tree;
Buxom, blithe, and young, I ween,
Beauteous like a summer's queen,
For her cheeks were ruddy-hu'd,
As if lilies were imbru'd

With drops of blood, to make the white
Please the eye with more delight:
Love did lie within her eyes
In ambush for some wanton prize.
A liefer* lass than this had been
Coridon had never seen,
Nor was Phillis, that fair may,t
Half so gaudy or so gay.

She wore a chaplet on her head;
Her cassock was of scarlet red,
Long and large, as straight as bent:
Her middle was both small and gent;
A neck as white as whalés-bone,
Compass'd with a lace of stone.
Fine she was, and fair she was,
Brighter than the brightest glass;
Such a shepherd's wife as she
Was not more in Thessaly.

THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE'S SONG.

AH, what is love? It is a pretty thing,.
As sweet unto a shepherd as a king;
And sweeter too,

For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,
And cares can make the sweetest love to frown:

Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain, What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

His flocks are folded, he comes home at night, As merry as a king in his delight;

And merrier too,

For kings bethink them what the state require,
Where shepherds careless carol by the fire:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do § gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat
His cream and curds as doth the king his meat;
And blither too,

liefer] i. e. more dear, more agreeable. may] i. e. maid.

Where] i. e. Whereas.

§ do] The 4to. omits this word of the burden in all the stanzas except the first.

For kings have often fears when they do sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

To bed he goes, as wanton then, I ween,
As is a king in dalliance with a queen;
More wanton too,

For kings have many griefs affects to move,
Where shepherds have no greater grief than love:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound,
As doth the king upon his bed * of down;
More sounder too,

For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Thus with his wife he spends the year, as blithe
As doth the king at every tide or sithe;+
And blither too,

For kings have wars and broils to take in hand,
Where shepherds laugh and love upon the land:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

HEXAMETRA ALEXIS IN LAUDEM
ROSAMUNDÆ.

OFT have I heard my lief Coridon report on a love-day,

When bonny maids do meet with the swains in the valley by Tempe,

How bright-ey'd his Phillis was, how lovely they glanced,

When from th' arches ebon-black flew looks as a lightning,

That set a-fire with piercing flames even hearts adamantine:

Face rose-hu'd, cherry-red, with a silver taint§ like a lily:

Venus' pride might abate, might abash with a blush to behold her;

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Phoebus' wires compar'd to her hairs unworthy For she's quite bereft of her love, and left of

the praising;

Juno's state and Pallas' wit disgrac'd with the

graces

That grac'd her whom poor Coridon did choose for a love-mate.

Ah, but had Coridon now seen the star that Alexis

Alexis :

Once was she lik'd and once was she lov'd of wanton Alexis;

Now is she loath'd and now is she left of trothless Alexis.

Here did he clip and kiss Rosamond, and vow by Diana,

Likes and loves so dear that he melts to sighs None so dear to the swain as I, nor none so

when he sees her,

Did Coridon but see those eyes, those amorous eye-lids,

From whence fly holy flames of death or life in a

moment!

beloved;

Here did he deeply swear and call great Pan for a witness,

That Rosamond was only the rose belov'd of Alexis,

Ah, did he see that face, those hairs that Venus, That Thessaly had not such another nymph to

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Fair Tempe, the gladsome grove of greatest Apollo,

Shrubs, and dales, and neighbouring hills, that

heard when he swore him,

Witness all, and seek to revenge the wrongs of a virgin!

Had any swain been lief to me but guileful Alexis,

Had Rosamond twin'd myrtle-boughs, or rosemary branches,

Sweet hollyhock, or else daffodil, or slips of a bay-tree,

And given them for a gift to any swain but Alexis,

Well had Alexis done t' have left his rose for a giglott:

But Galate ne'er lov'd more dear her lovely Menalcas

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Than Rosamond did dearly love her trothless Alexis;

*

Endymion was ne'er belov'd of his Cytherea Half so dear as true Rosamond belov'd her Alexis. [down to the willows, Now, seely lass, hie down to the lake, haste And with those forsaken twigs go make thee a chaplet; [brooks, by the rivers,

Mournful sit, and sigh by the springs, by the Till thou turn for grief, as did Niobe, to a marble; Melt to tears, pour out thy plaints, let Echo reclaim them, [Alexis. How Rosamond, that lovèd so dear, is left of Now die, die, Rosamond! let men engrave o' thy [Alexis, Here lies she that loved so dear the youngster Once beloved, forsaken late of faithless Alexis, Yet Rosamond did die for love, false-hearted

tomb-stone,

Alexis!

PHILADOR'S ODE

THAT HE LEFT WITH THE DESPAIRING LOVER.

WHEN merry autumn in her prime,
Fruitful mother of swift time,
Had filled Ceres' lap with store

Of vines and corn, and mickle more
Such needful fruits as do grow
From Terra's bosom here below;
Tityrus did sigh, and see

With heart's grief and eyes' gree,†
Eyes and heart both full of woes,
Where Galate his lover goes.
Her mantle was vermilion red;
A gaudy chaplet on her head,

A chaplet that did shroud the beams
That Phoebus on her beauty streams,
For sun itself desir'd to see
So fair a nymph as was she,
For, viewing from the east to west,
Fair Galate did like him best.
Her face was like to welkin's shine;
Crystal brooks such were her ‡ eyne,
And yet within those brooks were fires
That scorched youth and his desires.
Galate did much impair

Venus' honour for her fair; §

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For stately stepping, Juno's pace
By Galate did take disgrace;
And Pallas' wisdom bare no prize
Where Galate would show her wise.
This gallant girl thus passeth by
Where Tityrus did sighing lie,
Sighing sore, for love strains
More than sighs from lovers' veins :
Tears in eye, thought in heart,
Thus his grief he did impart.
"Fair Galate, but glance thine eye;
Here lies he that here must die,
For love is death, if love not gain
Lover's salve for lover's pain.
Winters seven and more are past
Since on thy face my thoughts I cast:
When Galate did haunt the plains,
And fed her sheep amongst the swains,
When every shepherd left his flocks
To gaze on Galate's fair locks,
When every eye did stand at gaze,

When heart and thought did both amaze,
When heart from body would asunder,
On Galate's fair face to wonder;

Then amongst them all did I

Catch such a wound as I must die,

If Galate oft say not thus,

'I love the shepherd Tityrus.'

'Tis love, fair nymph, that doth pain Tityrus, thy truest swain;

True, for none more true can be
Than still to love, and none but thee.
Say, Galate, oft smile and say,
'Twere pity love should have a nay';
But such a word of comfort give,
And Tityrus thy love shall live:
Or with a piercing frown reply,
'I cannot love', * and then I die,
For lover's nay is lover's death,
And heart-break frowns do stop the breath."
Galate at this arose,

And with a smile away she goes,

As one that little car'd to ease
Tityr, pain'd with love's disease.
At her parting, Tityrus
Sigh'd amain, and sayèd thus:
"O, that women are so fair,
To trap men's eyest in their hair,
With beauteous eyes, love's fires,
Venus' sparks that heat desires !

* love] The 4to. "liue."

eyes] An error, I believe, caused by the occurrence of the word in the next line.

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