THE LAPWING.
3. ODE.
Vnhappie I to change my aerie nest,
For this same marish dwelling where I rest,
Wherfore my song while I repeate,
I'le close it vp;
Rue yet, rue yet,
Euery Cowheard driuing his beasts to graze,
Disturbs my rest, me from my nest doth raise,
Which makes my young take vp this song,
To wreake my wrong;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Thou subtile Stockdoue that hast cheated me,
By taking vp thy nest where I should be,
Hast me and mine in perill set,
Whose song is fit;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Solely-retired, see I liue alone,
Farre from recourse or sight of any one,
And well that life would suite with me,
Were I but free;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Young-ones I haue, that thinking I am fled,
Do leaue their nest, and run with shell on head,
And hauing found me out we cry,
Both they and I;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Crest-curled mates why do you beare so long
The Stockdoues pride, that triumphs in your wrong
Let vs our signals once display,
And make him say;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Too tedious hath our bondage bene I wis,
And onely patience was the cause of this,
Where if we would contract our power,
We'de sing no more;
Rue yet, rue yet.
March on then brauely, as if Mars were here,
And hate no guest so much as slauish feare,
Let the proud Stockdoue feele your wing,
That he may sing;
Rue yet, rue yet.
Let none escape, though they submissiue seeme,
Till you haue spoil'd and quite vnfether'd them,
So you shall make them vaile the wing,
And henceforth sing;
Rue yet, rue yet.
