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Shee knowes my guiltlesse hart, and yet she lets it pine: Of her vntrue professed loue, so feeble is the twine. (15) What wonder is it then, if I berent my haires: And crauing death continually, doo bathe my selfe in teares? When Cræsus King of Lide,was cast in cruell bands, And yeelded goods and life into his enemies hands: What tongue could tell his woe? yet was his griefe much lesse (20) Then mine, for I haue lost my Loue, which might my woe redresse. Ye woods that shroud my limbs, giue now your hollow sound: That ye may helpe me to bewaile, the cares that me confound . Ye Riuers rest a while, and stay your streames that runne: Rue Thestilis, the wofulst man that rests vnder the Sunne. (25) Transport my sighs ye winds, vnto my pleasant foe: My trickling teares shall witnes heare, of this my cruell woe. Oh happy man were I, if all the Gods agreed: That now the Sisters three should cut in twaine my fatall threed. Till life with loue shall end, I heere resigne all ioy, (30) Thy pleasant sweete I now lament, whose lacke breeds mine annoy. Farewell my deere therefore, farewell to me well knowne, If that I die, it shall be sayd: that thou hast slaine thine owne.

FINIS. L. T. Howard, E. of Surrie.

¶ To Phillis the faire Sheepheardesse. +

M Y Phillis hath the morning Sunne, at first to looke vpon her: And Phillis hath morne-waking birds, her risings still to honour. (5) My Phillis hath prime-featherd flowres, that smile when she treads on them: And Phillis hath a gallant flocke, that leapes since she dooth owne them. But Phillis hath too hard a hart, (10) alas that she should haue it: