Reliques of Ancient English Poetry consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, (Chiefly of the Lyric kind.) Together with some few of later Date |
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 | Reliques of Ancient English Poetry |  |
XXV. CORIN'S FATE.
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Only the three first stanzas of this song are ancient; these are extracted from the quarto MS. mentioned in vol. I. p. 66. As they seemed to want application, this has been attempted by a modern hand.
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Corin, most unhappie swaine,
Whither wilt thou drive thy flocke?
Little foode is on the plaine;
Full of danger is the rocke:
Whither wilt thou drive thy flocke?
Little foode is on the plaine;
Full of danger is the rocke:
Wolfes and beares doe kepe the woodes;
Forests tangled are with brakes:
Meadowes subject are to floodes;
Moores are full of miry lakes.
Forests tangled are with brakes:
Meadowes subject are to floodes;
Moores are full of miry lakes.
Yet to shun all plaine, and hill,
Forest, moore, and meadow-ground,
Hunger will as surely kill:
How may then reliefe be found?
Forest, moore, and meadow-ground,
Hunger will as surely kill:
How may then reliefe be found?
Such is hapless Corins fate:
Since my waywarde love begunne,
Equall doubts begett debate
What to seeke, and what to shunne.
Since my waywarde love begunne,
Equall doubts begett debate
What to seeke, and what to shunne.
Spare to speke, and spare to speed;
Yet to speke will move disdaine:
If I see her not I bleed,
Yet her sight augments my paine.
Yet to speke will move disdaine:
If I see her not I bleed,
Yet her sight augments my paine.
What may then poor Corin doe?
Tell me, shepherdes, quicklye tell;
For to linger thus in woe
Is the lover's sharpest hell.
Tell me, shepherdes, quicklye tell;
For to linger thus in woe
Is the lover's sharpest hell.
| Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | |