¶ The Shepheards Sunne. +
F Aire Nimphs, sit ye here by me, on this flowrie greene: While we this merrie day doe see, some things but sildome seene. (5) Shepheards all, now come sit a round, on yond checquerd plaine: While from the Woods we here resound, some comfort for Loues paine. Euery bird sits on his bough, (10) As brag as he that is the best: Then sweet Loue, reueale how our mindes may be at rest. Eccho thus replied to mee, Sit vnder yonder Beechen tree, (15) And there Loue shall shew thee how all may be redrest.
Harke, harke, harke the Nightingale , in her mourning lay: She tells her stories wofull tale, (20) to warne yee if she may. Faire Maides, take yee heede of loue, it is a perilous thing: As Philomell her selfe did proue, abused by a King. (25) If Kings play false, beleeue no men. That make a seemely outward show: