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The complaint of the Shepheard Harpalus.

Poore Harpalus opprest with loue,
Sate by a christall brooke:
Thinking his sorrowes to remooue,
Oft-times therein did looke.
And hearing how on pibble stones,
The murmuring riuer ran,
As if it had bewail'd his grones,
Vnto it thus began.
Faire streame (quoth he) that pitties me,
And heares my matchlesse moane,
If thou be going to the sea,
As I do so suppone,
Attend my plaints past all releefe,
Which dolefully I breath,
Acquaint the sea Nymphes with the greefe,
Which stil procures my death:
Who sitting on the cliffy rockes,
May in their songs. expresse:
While as they combe their golden lockes,
Poore Harpalus distresse.
And so perhaps some passenger,
That passeth by the way:
May stay and listen for to heare,
Them sing this dolefull lay.

Poore Harpalus a shepheard swaine,
More rich in youth then store,
Lou'd faire Philena, haplesse man,
Philena oh therefore!
Who still remorceles-hearted maide,
Tooke pleasure in his paine:
And his good will (poore soule) repayd
With vndeseru'd disdayne.
Ne're shepheard lou'd a shepherdesse
More faithfully then he:
Ne're shepheard yet beloued lesse,
Of shepheardesse could be.
How oft with dying lookes did he
To her his woes impart?
How oft his sighes did testifie
The dolor of his hart?
How oft from valleis to the hils,
Did he his griefes rehearse?
How oft re-eccho'd they his ills,
Abacke againe (alas?)
How oft on barkes of stately Pines,
Of Beech, of Holen greene,
Did he ingraue in mournfull lines,
The dole he did sustaine?
Yet all his plaints could haue no place,
To change Philena's mind:

The more his sorrowes did increase,
The more she prou'd vnkind.
The thought whereof through verie care,
Poore Harpalus did moue:
That ouercome with high despaire,
He quat both life and loue.
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