Well may the shepheard lasses now lament;
For doubble losse by her hath on them light,
To loose both her and bounties ornament.
[* _Bounty_, goodness.]
"Ne let Elisa, royall shepheardesse, 225
The praises of my parted* love envy,
For she hath praises in all plenteousnesse
Powr'd upon her, like showers of Castaly,
By her owne shepheard, Colin, her own shepheard,
That her with heavenly hymnes doth deifie, 230
Of rusticke Muse full hardly to be betterd.
[* _Parted_, departed.]
"She is the rose, the glory of the day,
And mine the primrose in the lowly shade:
Mine? ah, not mine! amisse I mine did say:
Not mine, but His which mine awhile her made; 235
Mine to be-his, with him to live for ay.
O that so faire a flowre so soon should fade,
And through untimely tempest fall away!
"She fell away in her first ages spring,
Whilst yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde;
And whilst her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring, 241
She fell away against all course of kinde*.
For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong;
She fell away like fruit blowne down with winde.
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