Me thinkes loue is an idle toy, heigh hoe busie paine: Both wit and sense it doth annoy, both sense & wit thereby we gaine. (45) Tush Phillis cease, be not so coy, heigh hoe, heigh hoe coy disdaine: I know you loue a Shepheards boy, fie that Maydens so should faine. Well Amarillis, now I yeeld, (50) Shepheards pipe aloude: Loue conquers both in towne and field, +like a Tirant, fierce and proude. The euening starre is vp ye see, Vesper shines, + we must away: (55) Would euery Louer might agree, so we end our Roundelay.
FINIS. H. C.
The Shepheards Antheme. +
N Eere to a banke with Roses set about, Where prettie Turtles ioyning bill to bill: And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out, Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill. (5) There little Loue sore wounded lyes, his bow and arrowes broken: Bedewde with teares from Venus eyes, Oh that it should be spoken.