¶ To Amarillis. +
T Hough Amarillis daunce in greene, Like Faierie Queene, And sing full cleere, With smiling cheere.(5) Yet since her eyes make hart so sore, hey hoe, chill loue no more.
My Sheepe are lost for want of foode And I so woodThat all the day: (10) I sit and watch a Heard-mayde gay, Who laughs to see me sigh so sore: hey hoe, chill loue no more.
Her louing lookes, her beautie bright, Is such delight, (15) That all in vaine: I loue to like, and loose my gaine,For her that thanks me not therefore, hey hoe, chill loue no more.
Ah wanton eyes, my friendly foes, (20) And cause of woes, Your sweet desire Breedes flames of yce, and freeze in fire. You scorne to see me weepe so sore: hey hoe, chill loue no more.
(25) Loue ye who list, I force him not,Sith God it wotThe more I waile: The lesse my sighs and teares preuaile. What shall I doo, but say therefore, (30) hey hoe, chill loue no more?
FINIS. Out of M. Birds set Songs.