University of Virginia Library



Flote meos casus.

How can I choose but dolefully complaine
Unto each gentle eare, and tender minde
The sorrie accident, that doth constraine
My heart to scald with sighs of strangled wind,
And eyes to drown in their own dreery drain?
Who sees a field, sowne with all sorts of graine,
Some newly springing up, some spindled new,
Some goodly blooming, others in the wane,
Hanging their tydie eares of yellow hewe
Downe to the earth, (from whence at first they grew)
Then sees belive a thriftlesse husbandman
Passe by the aged croppe (which cumbers ground
And hinders that no other prosper can)
While with his corbed sickle hee reapes downe
The fresh young stalkes whose joynts with sap abound;
Such one (comparing this sad uncouth sight)
The root of my complaint, may reade aright.
Tu quibus ista leges incertum est Lector ocellis,
Ipse equidem siccis scribere non potui.