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Pamphilus speakis to Galathea.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

Pamphilus speakis to Galathea.

Not small rewardis, on me thou dois imploy,
Bot gifts maist gret, with fauour I do feil,
Gret gladnes I consaiue, and inwart ioy,
Your talking hes contentit me so weill:
To rander thankis, I scantly can haif skeill,
To you, quha did the benefits auance,
The constant talke, and wourds quhilk ye reueill,
I am vnabill for to recompance.
Perchance, the time sall schortly cum behind,
And I beleife to see that happy day,
That for your fauour, ye schall frendschip find,
And to my power, sall the fame repay:
I dar demaund, or seik na thing, I say,
For feir I suld prouoke your wrath and ier,
Bot vnto you, I man bow and obay,
Albeid, I yit haue sum things to requier.


Thy lufe and fauour, I wald ken and knaw,
Gif kissis sweit, thou wald vouchsafe on me,
That we mair kindnes, micht till vther schaw,
Quhen time and place suld offerit till vs be.