315
[* _Trace_, step]
"But now, ye shepheard lasses! who shall lead
Your wandring troupes, or sing your virelayes*?
Or who shall dight** your bowres, sith she is dead
That was the lady of your holy-dayes?
Let now your blisse be turned into bale, 320
And into plaints convert your ioyous playes,
And with the same fill every hill and dale.
[* _Virelayes_, roundelays.]
[** _Dight_, deck.]
"Let bagpipe never more be heard to shrill,
That may allure the senses to delight,
Ne ever shepheard sound his oaten quill 325
Unto the many*, that provoke them might
To idle pleasance; but let ghastlinesse
And drearie horror dim the chearfull light,
To make the image of true heavinesse.
[* _Many_, company.]
"Let birds be silent on the naked spray, 330
And shady woods resound with dreadfull yells;
Let streaming floods their hastie courses stay,
And parching drouth drie up the cristall wells;
Let th'earth be barren, and bring foorth no flowres,
And th'ayre be fild with noyse of dolefull knells, 335
And wandring spirits walke untimely howres.
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