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Montanus praise of his faire Phæbe.
Phæbe
sate,
Sweete she sate,
sweete sate Phæbe when I saw her,
Sweete she sate,
sweete sate Phæbe when I saw her,
White her brow
Coy her eye,
brow and eye, how much you please me?
Coy her eye,
brow and eye, how much you please me?
Words I spent,
Sighs I sent,
sighs and words could neuer draw her,
Sighs I sent,
sighs and words could neuer draw her,
Oh my Loue,
Thou art lost,
since no sight could euer ease thee.
Thou art lost,
since no sight could euer ease thee.
Phæbe sate
By a Fount,
sitting by a Fount I spide her,
By a Fount,
sitting by a Fount I spide her,
Sweete her touch,
Rare her voyce,
touch and voyce, what may distaine you?
Rare her voyce,
touch and voyce, what may distaine you?
As she sung,
I did sigh,
And by sighs whilst that I tride her,
I did sigh,
And by sighs whilst that I tride her,
Oh mine eyes
You did loose,
her first sight whose want did paine you.
You did loose,
her first sight whose want did paine you.
Phœbes flocks
White as wooll,
yet were Phœbes lookes more whiter,
White as wooll,
yet were Phœbes lookes more whiter,
Phœbes eyes
Doue-like mild,
Doue-like eyes both mild and cruell,
Doue-like mild,
Doue-like eyes both mild and cruell,
Montane sweares
In your Lamps,
he will die for to delight her,
In your Lamps,
he will die for to delight her,
Phœbe yeeld
Or I die,
shall true harts be fancies fuell?
Or I die,
shall true harts be fancies fuell?
FINIS.
Thom. Lodge.
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