| |
| IN sweetest pride of youthful May, | |
| Where my poor flocks were wont to stay | |
| About the valleys and high hills, | |
| Which FLORA with her glory fills; | |
| PARTHENOPHIL, the gentle Swain, | 5 |
| Perplexèd with a pleasing pain, | |
| |
| Despairing how to slack his pain; | |
| To woods and floods, these words did say, | |
| “PARTHENOPHE, mine heart’s Soverain! | |
| Why dost thou, my delights delay? | 10 |
| And with thy cross unkindness kills, | |
| Mine heart, bound martyr to thy wills!” | |
| |
| But women will have their own wills, | |
| Alas, why then should I complain? | |
| Since what She lists, her heart fulfils. | 15 |
| I sigh! I weep! I kneel! I pray! | |
| When I should kiss, She runs away! | |
| Sighs! knees! tears! prayers! spent in vain! | |
| |
| My verses do not please her vain, | |
| Mine heart wears with continual thrills | 20 |
| His Epilogue about to play! | |
| My Sense, unsound; my Wits, in wane; | |
| I still expect a happy day! | |
| Whilst harvest grows, my winter spills! | |
| |
| PARTHENOPHE mine harvest spills! | 25 |
| She robs my storehouse of his grain! | |
| Alas, sweet Wench! thy rage allay! | |
| Behold, what fountain still distils; | |
| Whiles thine heat’s rage in me doth rain! | |
| Yet moisture will not his flame stay. | 30 |
| |
| PARTHENOPHE! thy fury stay! | |
| Take hence! the occasion of these ills | |
| Thou art the cause! but come again! | |
| Return! and FLORA’s pride disdain! | |
| Her lilies, rose, and daffodils! | 35 |
| Thy cheeks and forehead disarray | |
| |
| The roses and lilies of their grain; | |
| What swans can yield so many quills | |
| As all her glories can display? | |
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