"And ye, ray fellow Shepheards! which do feed
Tour carelesse flocks on hils and open plaines, 520
With better fortune than did me succeed,
Remember yet my undeserved paines;
And when ye heare that I am dead or slaine,
Lament my lot, and tell your fellow-swaines
That sad Aleyon dyde in lifes disdaine. 525
"And ye, faire Damsels! shepheards deare delights,
That with your loves do their rude hearts possesse,
When as my hearse shall happen to your sightes,
Vouchsafe to deck the same with cyparesse;
And ever sprinckle brackish teares among, 530
In pitie of my undeserv'd distresse,
The which, I, wretch, endured have thus long.
"And ye, poore Pilgrims! that with restlesse toyle
Wearie your selves in wandring desart wayes,
Till that you come where ye your vowes assoyle*, 535
When passing by ye reade these wofull layes
On my grave written, rue my Daphnes wrong,
And mourne for me that languish out my dayes.
Cease, Shepheard! cease, and end thy undersong."
[* _Assoyle_, absolve, pay.]
Thus when he ended had his heavie plaint, 540
The heaviest plaint that ever I heard sound,
His cheekes wext pale, and sprights began to faint,
As if againe he would have fallen to ground;
Which when I saw, I, stepping to him light,
Amooved* him out of his stonie swound, 545
And gan him to recomfort as I might.
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