 | To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox |  |
Anus speakis to Galathea.
Far from thy mind, lat all this feir be tane,
Thair is na caus, of feir the till offend,
Considring, that thair sall be neuer nane,
This mater to make manifest and kend:
Now Pamphilvs, dois daily him pretend,
To be your husband, gif ye wald proceid,
His cair and labour, halily is tend,
How to performe this purpose intill speid.
Thair is na caus, of feir the till offend,
Considring, that thair sall be neuer nane,
This mater to make manifest and kend:
Now Pamphilvs, dois daily him pretend,
To be your husband, gif ye wald proceid,
His cair and labour, halily is tend,
How to performe this purpose intill speid.
A thousand wais, behauiour schaws me more,
The ardent lufe, quhilk in him dois acres,
Quhen he lamentis, with murning teirs maist sore,
Thir wourdis to me he plainly dois expres:
Sche is to me, baith dolour and distres,
And als sche is remeder of my paine,
Onely sche may, me wound I will confes,
And quhen sche pleis, sche may me pance againe.
The ardent lufe, quhilk in him dois acres,
Quhen he lamentis, with murning teirs maist sore,
Thir wourdis to me he plainly dois expres:
Sche is to me, baith dolour and distres,
And als sche is remeder of my paine,
Onely sche may, me wound I will confes,
And quhen sche pleis, sche may me pance againe.
The pitie, quhilk on Pamphilvs I had,
Compeld my eis with teirs to be oprest,
Yit not the les, I was reioysd and glad,
Into my mind, with quietnes and rest:
To se all things proceiding for the best,
And as I wischit, the mater for to strike,
I knew that ye, brunt baith into wanrest,
With equall fire, inflaming you alike.
Yit not the les, I was reioysd and glad,
Into my mind, with quietnes and rest:
To se all things proceiding for the best,
And as I wischit, the mater for to strike,
I knew that ye, brunt baith into wanrest,
With equall fire, inflaming you alike.
The flame ay vsis, hurtfull for to be,
Thairfoir, forse your selfis, now hereintill,
Wald God, lufe wald commit you baith to me,
Els at the leist, at my consent and will.
Thairfoir, forse your selfis, now hereintill,
Wald God, lufe wald commit you baith to me,
Els at the leist, at my consent and will.
| To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox | |