(50) But ah, my wounds are full of spright, and cannot be recured: The boy that kist his Mothers paine, Gan smile, and kist her whole againe, and made her hope assured. (55) She suckt the wound, and swag’d the sting, And little Loue ycurde did sing, then let no Louer sorrow: To day though greefe attaint his hart, Let him with courage bide the smart, (60) amends will come to morrow.
FINIS. Thom. Lodge.
¶ Menaphons Roundelay. +
W Hen tender Ewes brought home with euenings Sun, Wend to their Folds, And to their holds The Sheepheards trudge when light of day is done: (5) Vpon a tree, The Eagle Ioues faire bird + did pearch, There resteth hee. A little Flie his harbour then did search, And did presume, (though others laugh’d thereat) (10) To pearch whereas the Princely Eagle sat.
The Eagle frownd, and shooke his royall wings, and charg’d the Flie From thence to hie. Afraide, in hast the little creature flings, (15) Yet seekes againe, Fearefull to pearke him by the Eagles side. With moodie vaine The speedie poast of Ganimede replide: Vassaile auaunt, or with my wings you die. (20) Is’t fit an Eagle seate him with a Flie?