And euery Swaine his chaunce dooth proue, (30) To winne faire Amarganaes loue, In sporting strifes quite voide of spleene: To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
All happines let Heauen her lend, And all the Graces her attend. (35) Thus bid me pray the Muses nine , Long liue our louely Sommer Queene.
FINIS. W. H.
¶ Another of the same. +
H Appy Sheepheards sit and see, with ioy, The peerelesse wight: For whose sake Pan keepes from ye (5) annoy, And giues delight. Blessing this pleasant Spring, Her praises must I sing. List you Swaines, list to me: (10) The whiles your Flocks feeding be.
First her brow a beauteous Globe, I deeme, And golden haire; And her cheeke Auroraes roabe, +(15) dooth seeme, But farre more faire. Her eyes like starres are bright. And dazle with their light, Rubies her lips to see, (20) But to tast, Nectar they be.