University of Virginia Library

[Leave of my sheepe, yt ys no tyme to feede]

Leave of my sheepe, yt ys no tyme to feede,
My Sunne ys gon̄, youre pasture bareyn growes,
O Crewell Sunne thy hate this harme dothe breede,
Leave of my Sheepe, my shower of Teres oreflowes
Youre sweetest flowers youre herbes no service yeelde
My Sunne, alas, from mee for ever gooes.
Leave of my Sheepe my sighes burne up youre feelde,
My Playntes calle wolves, my plagues in yow prevayle,
My Sunne ys gonn̄, from stormes that shoulde us shielde:
Leave of my Sheepe, sorowe hathe hoysed saile.
Wayle in my woes, taste of youre Masters payne,
My sunne ys gonne, now Cloudy greeves assayle;
Leave Leaving not my mourning to meyntayne,
Yow beare no wolle, and losse ys all my gayne.