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She kist me sweete, and call’d me new-Loue. (5) With my siluer haire she toyed, In my stayed lookes she ioyed. Boyes (shee sayd) breede beauties sorrow: Olde men cheere it euen and morrow. +

My face she nam’d the seate of fauour, (10) All my defects her tongue defended, My shape she prais’d, but most commended. My breath more sweete then Balme in sauour. Be old man with me delighted, Loue for loue shall be requited. (15) With her toyes at last she wone me: Now she coyes that hath vndone me.


¶ The Sheepheard Syluanus his Song. +

M Y life (young Shepheardesse) for thee Of needes to death must post: But yet my griefe must stay with me, After my life is lost.
(5) The grieuous ill, by death that cured is, Continually hath remedy at hand: +But not that torment that is like to this, That in slow time, and Fortunes meanes + |(doth stand.
And if this sorrow cannot be (10) Ended with life (at most:)