University of Virginia Library



XVI. Come shepheard swaines.

Come shepheard swaines

Come shepheard swaines, and on this Cipres tree hang all your pipes, Sing not a note of mirth, But sigh, with me, Adew, adew, adew, adew delights, Adew, adew, adew, adew delights, For shee is dead, who while shee liu'd was such, As in her praises, none could sing too much, none could sing too much, But now her body lies full low, full low, The more her ioy The more our woe, the more our woe.