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¶ A Pastorall of Phillis and Coridon. +

O N a Hill there growes a flower, faire befall the daintie sweete: By that flower there is a Bower, Where the heauenly Muses meete.
(5) In that Bower there is a chaire, fringed all about with gold: Where doth sit the fairest faire, that euer eye did yet behold.
It is Phillis faire and bright, (10) shee that is the Shepheards ioy: Shee that Venus did despight, and did blind her little boy.
This is shee, the wise, the rich, that the world desires to see: (15) This is ipsa quœ the which, there is none but onely shee.
Who would not this face admire? who would not this Saint adore? Who would not this sight desire, (20) though he thought to see no more?
Oh faire eyes, yet let mee see, one good looke, and I am gone: Looke on me, for I am hee, thy poore silly Coridon.