University of Virginia Library

Another of the same Sheepheards.

As it fell vpon a day,
In the merry moneth of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade,
Which a groue of Mirtles made.
Beasts did leape, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring.
Euery thing did banish moane,
Saue the Nightingale alone.
Shee poore bird, as all forlorne,
Lean'd her breast against a thorne,
And there sung the dolefull'st Ditty,
That to heare it was great pitty.
Fie, fie, fie, now would she crie
Teru, Teru, by and by.
That to heare her so complaine,
Scarse I could from teares refraine.
For her greefes so liuely showne,
Made me thinke vpon mine owne.
Ah (thought I) thou mourn'st in vaine,
None takes pitty on thy paine.
Sencelesse trees, they cannot heare thee,
Ruthlesse beasts, they will not cheere thee.
King Pandion he is dead,
All thy friends are lapt in Lead.
All thy fellow birds doo sing,
Carelesse of thy sorrowing.
Euen so poore bird like thee,
None a-liue will pitty mee.