 | Englands Helicon |  |
The Sheepheard Dorons Iigge.
Through the shrubs as I can crack,
for my Lambs pretty ones,
mongst many little ones,
Nimphs I meane, whose haire was black
As the Crow.
Like as the Snow
for my Lambs pretty ones,
mongst many little ones,
Nimphs I meane, whose haire was black
As the Crow.
Like as the Snow
Her face and browes shin'd I weene,
I saw a little one,
a bonny pretty one,
As bright, buxome, and as sheene:
As was shee
On her knee
I saw a little one,
a bonny pretty one,
As bright, buxome, and as sheene:
As was shee
On her knee
That lull'd the God, whose arrowes warmes
such merry little ones,
such faire-fac'd pretty ones,
As dally in Loues chiefest harmes.
Such was mine,
Whose gray eyne
such merry little ones,
such faire-fac'd pretty ones,
As dally in Loues chiefest harmes.
Such was mine,
Whose gray eyne
Made me loue: I gan to wooe
this sweete little one,
this bonny pretty one.
I wooed hard a day or two,
Till she bad,
Be not sad,
this sweete little one,
this bonny pretty one.
Till she bad,
Be not sad,
Wooe no more, I am thine owne,
thy dearest little one,
thy truest pretty one.
Thus was faith and firme loue showne,
As behooues
Sheepheards Loues.
thy dearest little one,
thy truest pretty one.
Thus was faith and firme loue showne,
As behooues
Sheepheards Loues.
FINIS.
Ro. Greene.
| Englands Helicon | |