What then doth this thing profit me) A sorrow wonne or lost?
Yet all is one to me, as now I trie a flattering hope, or that that had not beene yet: (15) For if to day for want of it I die, Next day I doe no lesse for hauing seene it.
Faine would I die, to end and free This grieefe, that kills me most: If that it might be lost with me, (20) Or die when life is lost.
FINIS. Bar. Yong.
¶ Coridons Song. +
A Blithe and bonny Country-Lasse, heigh hoe bonny-Lasse, Sate sighing on the tender grasse, and weeping said: will none come wooe me? (5) A smicker Boy, a lither Swaine: heigh hoe a smicker Swaine: That in his loue was wanton faine, with smiling lookes straight came vnto her.