¶ To Amarillis. +
T Hough Amarillis dance in greene, Like Fairie Queene, And sing full cleere, With smiling cheere. (5) Yet since her eyes make heart so sore, hey hoe, chill loue no more.
My Sheepe are lost for want of foode And I so woodThat all the day: (10) I sit and watch a Heard-mayde gay, Who laughs to see me sigh so sore: hey hoe, chill loue no more.
Her louing lookes, her beautie bright, Is such delight, (15) That all in vaine: I loue to like, and loose my gaine, For her that thanks me not therefore, hey hoe, chill loue no more.