By a Well of Marble-stone, A Sheepheard lying all a-lone. Weepe he did, and his weeping Made the fading flowers spring. (15) Daphnis was his name I weene, Youngest Swaine of Sommers Queene. When Aurora saw t’was he Weepe she did for companie: Weepe she did for her sweet Sonne, +(20) That (when antique Troy was wonne) Suffer’d death by lucklesse Fate, Whom she now laments too late: And each morning (by Cocks crewe) Showers downe her siluer dewe, (25) Whose teares falling from their spring, Giue moisture to each liuing thing That on earth encrease and grow, Through power of their friendly foe. Whose effect when Flora felt, (30) Teares, that did her bosome melt, (For who can resist teares often, But she whom no teares can soften?) Peering straite aboue the banks, Shew’d her selfe to giue her thanks. (35) Wondring thus at Natures worke (Wherein many meruailes lurke) Me thought I heard a dolefull noyse, Consorted with a mournfull voyce, Drawing neere, to heare more plaine, (40) Heare I did, vnto my paine, (For who is not pain’d to heare Him in griefe whom hart holds deere?) Silly Swaine with griefe ore-gone Thus to make his pitteous mone. (45) Loue I did, alas the while, Loue I did, but did beguile My deere Loue with louing so, Whom as then I did not know.