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And wearied eyes, leaue off your burning teares, (20) For soone you shall behold her with delight, For whom my spoiles with glory Cupid beares. Senses which seeke my starre so cleare and bright, By making here & there your thoughts estray: Tell me, what will you feele before her sight? (25) Hence solitarinesse, torments away, Felt for her sake, and wearied members cast Off all your paine, redeem’d this happy day. O stay not time, but passe with speedy hast, And Fortune hinder not her comming now. (30) O God, betides me yet this griefe at last? Come my sweet Shepheardesse, the life which thou (Perhaps) didst thinke was ended long agoe, At thy commaund is readie still to bow. Comes not my Shepheardesse desired so? (35) O God, what if she’s lost, or if she stray Within this wood, where trees so thick doe |(grow? Or if this Nimph that lately went away, Perhaps forgot to goe and seeke her out: No, no, in (her) obliuion neuer lay. (40) Thou onely art my Shepheardesse, about Whose thoughts my soule shall finde her ioy ||(and rest: Why comm’st not then to assure it from doubt? O seest thou not the Sunne passe to the West? And if it passe, and I behold thee not: (45) Then I my wonted torments will request And thou shalt waile my hard and heauie lot.

FINIS. Bar. Yong.