Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes, But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. VII. NICHOLAS BRETON, 1542-1626? A PASTORAL OF PHILLIS AND CORYDON. Na hill there grows a flower, ΟΝ Fair befall the dainty sweet; In that bower there is a chair, Fringed all about with gold; It is Phillis fair and bright, She that is the shepherd's joy ; She that Venus did despite, And did blind her little boy. This is she, the wise, the rich, That the world desires to see ; This is ipsa qua the which, There is none but only she. Who would not this face admire? Who would not this saint adore ? Though he thought to see no more? Oh fair eyes, yet let me see, One good look, and I am gone; Look on me, for I am he, Thy poor silly Corydon. Thou that art the shepherd's queen, By thy comfort have been seen Dead men brought to life again. VIII. CORYDON'S SUPPLICATION TO PHILLIS. WEET Phillis, if a silly swain, SWE May sue to thee for grace; See not thy loving shepherd slain, With looking on thy face. But think what power thou hast got, Upon my flock and me; Thou seest they now regard me not, And if I have so far presum'd, With prying in thine eyes; That in thy pity lies. But as thou art that Phillis fair, But if thy beauty make thee proud, . Let me report for thy behoof, Is sworn the Shepherd's Queen. IX I OLDEN LOVE-MAKING. N time of yore when shepherds dwelt And simple people never felt The pain of lovers' mocks ; But little birds would carry tales Twixt Susan and her sweeting; And all the dainty nightingales Did sing at lovers' meeting; And where the life of true love was, Then yea and nay was thought an oath There was no speech of sunny beam C |