EnglandsHelicon E3v


¶ Tityrus to his faire Phillis. +

T HE silly Swaine whose loue breedes discontent, Thinks death a trifle, life a loathsome thing, Sad he lookes, sad he lyes: But when his Fortunes mallice dooth relent, (5) Then of Loues sweetnes he will sweetly sing, thus he liues, thus he dyes. Then Tityrus whom Loue hath happy made, Will rest thrice happy in this Mirtle shade. For though Loue at first did greeue him: (10) yet did Loue at last releeue him.


¶ Sheepheard. +

S Weete thrall, first step to Loues felicitie, Sheepheardesse. Sweete thrall, no stop to perfect libertie. Hee. O life. Shee. What life? (5) Hee. Sweete life. Shee. No life more sweete: Hee. O Loue. Shee. What loue? Hee. Sweete Loue. Shee. No loue more meete.


Another of the same Authour. +

F Ields were ouer-spread with flowers, Fairest choise of Floraes treasure: Sheepheards there had shadie Bowers, Where they oft reposd with pleasure.