¶ The vnknowne Shepheards complaint. +
M Y Flocks feede not, my Ewes breed not, My Rammes speed not, all is amisse: Loue is denying, Faith is defying, Harts renying, causer of this. (5) All my merry Iiggs are quite forgot, All my Ladies loue is lost God wot. Where her faith was firmely fixt in loue, There a nay is plac’d without remoue. One silly crosse, wrought all my losse, (10) O frowning Fortune , cursed fickle Dame: For now I see, inconstancie More in women then in men remaine.
In black mourne I, all feares scorne I, Loue hath forlorne me, liuing in thrall: (15) Hart is bleeding, all helpe needing, O cruell speeding, fraughted with gall. My Shepheards pipe can sound no deale, My Weathers bell rings dolefull knell. My curtaile dogge that wont to haue plaide, (20) Playes not at all, but seemes afraide. With sighs so deepe, procures to weepe, In howling-wise, to see my dolefull plight: How sighs resound, through hartlesse ground, Like a thousand vanquish’d men in bloody fight.