¶ Cinthia the Nimph, her Song to faire Polydora. +
N Eere to the Riuer banks, with greene And pleasant trees on euery side, Where freest minds would most haue beene, That neuer felt braue Cupids pride, (5) To passe the day and tedious howers: Amongst those painted meades and flowers.
A certaine Sheepheard full of woe, Syrenus call’d, his flocks did feede: Not sorrowfull in outward show, (10) But troubled with such greefe indeede, As cruell Loue is wont t’impart Vnto a painefull louing hart.
This Sheepheard euery day did die, For loue he to Diana bare: (15) A Sheepheardesse so fine perdie, So liuely, young, and passing faire, Excelling more in beauties feature: Then any other humane creature.
Who had not any thing, of all (20) She had, but was extreame in her, For meanely wise none might her call, Nor meanely faire, for he did erre If so he did: but should deuise H er name of passing faire and wise.