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wherewith he still aspired. A bowe he bare to worke mens wrack, A little Quiuer at his back, (15) with many arrowes filled: And in his soft and pretty hand, He held a liuely burning brand, where-with he Louers killed. Fast by his side, in rich aray, (20) There sate a louely Lady + gay, his mother as I guessed: That set the Lad vpon her knee, And trimd his bowe, and taught him flee, and mickle Loue professed. (25) Oft from her lap at sundry stoures, +He leapt, and gathered Sommer flowres, both Violets and Roses: But see the chaunce that followed fast, As he the pompe of prime dooth wast, (30) before that he supposes: A Bee that harbour’d hard thereby, Did sting his hand, and made him crye Oh Mother, I am wounded: Faire Venus that beheld her Sonne, (35) Cryed out alas, I am vndone, and there-vpon she swounded. My little Lad the Goddesse sayd, Who hath my Cupid so dismayd? he aunswered: Gentle Mother (40) The hony-worker in the Hiue, My greefe and mischiefe dooth contriue, alas it is none other. Shee kist the Lad: Now marke the chaunce, And straite she fell into a traunce, (45) and crying, thus concluded: Ah wanton boy, like to the Bee, Thou with a kisse hast wounded me, and haplesse Loue included. A little Bee dooth thee affright,