Alas say I, when will my notes afford Such like remorce, who still beweepe my paine?
(25) When I behold vpon the leafe-lesse bow The haplesse bird lament her Loues depart: I draw her biding nigh, And sitting downe I sigh, And sighing say: Alas, that birds auow (30) A setled faith, yet Phæbe scornes my smart.
Thus wearie in my walke, and wofull too, I spend the day, fore-spent with daily greefe: Each obiect of distresse My sorrow dooth expresse. (35) I doate on that which dooth my hart vndoo: And honour her that scornes to yeeld releefe.
¶ Espilus and Therion, their contention in Song for the
Espilus. T Vne vp my voyce, a higher note I yeeld, To high conceite, the Song must needes neede be hie: More high then starres, more firme then flintie field Are all my thoughts, in which I liue and die. (5) Sweete soule to whom I vowed am a slaue: Let not wild woods so great a treasure haue.
Therion. The highest note comes oft from basest minde, As shallow Brookes doo yeeld the greatest sound: +Seeke other thoughts thy life or death to find, (10) Thy starres be falne, plowed is thy flinty ground. Sweet soule, let not a wretch that serueth Sheepe, Among his Flock so sweete a treasure keepe.