Of 5. Voc.
[IX. Though faint & wasted.]
Though faint & wasted, with
ouerlong desiring
Though faint & wasted, with
ouerlong desiring, of my belou'd but cruell foe, whose delights are in my woe, yet fancie frameth, no retyring, but dyes admyring: O Loue, ô help at last, let her feele
thy dart, That so vnkyndly kills my hart.
[X. Since my heedlesse eyes.]
Since my heedlesse eies began to be ranging
Since my heedlesse eies began to be ranging,
I thrise accursed alwais haue bin changing: first was I made a Hart, in whō yet
all my hope was grounded, Then to a dying Swan, my altring state was turned, for though I sung, yet my
fainting hart still moorned, & now to a Salamander,
changed, with flames surrounded, O
what a life is this, to liue still wounded.
[XI. When all alone my bony loue.]
When all alone my bony loue was playing
When all alone my bony loue was playing, And I saw Phœbus stand at a
gaze staying, Alas I feard betraying, Alas I feard, ther wold be some betraying.
[XII. When I beheld the faire face of Phillis sleeping.]
When I beheld the faire face of Phyllis sleeping
When I beheld the faire face of Phyllis sleeping I shewd my ioy by
weeping: And kissing oft her cheeks with roses stained, To my self I thus cōplained,
now feed your selues my feeble eies with gazing,
while her eies with a clowd of sleepe are kept from blazing, and thou my hart, whō she hath fired,
dispaire not of thy desired, As now mine eies are pleased, So haply when
she awakes, yu shalt be eased.
[XIII. Alas, where is my Loue.]
Alas, where is my loue, wher is my sweeting
Alas, where is my loue, wher is my sweeting, That hath stolne awaie my hart, God send vs meeting, And all my weeping, But if my sight she fly, Till hartlesse I die, my
greiued ghost, with shryks & dreadfull crying, Alwaies about her flying, shall murmur out cōplayning, To be reuengd of
all her deep disdayning.
[XIIII. Sweet hart arise.]
Sweet hart arise, that we may take our pleasure
Sweet hart arise, that we may take our pleasure, With prety pastimes,
louers onely treasure, dancing amongst faire Nymphs & louely Graces,
wher a chast kisse, is mixt with sweet imbraces,
O to the woods wend we without delaying, wher sweetly singing Byrds on bowes are playing, &
beasts in wāton order, frō euery moūtaine, each
after other, come to wait on Floraes traine.
[XV. But if the country gods.]
Bvt if the countrie Gods' seeke to surround thee
Bvt if the countrie Gods' seeke to surround thee,
fly then my sweet Phillis, false wanton Satirs vse much beguyling, Alas if they but ketch thee, the
sight will wound me, And my poore hart, though now it liue in pleasure, will die with onely feare, to leese his treasure.
[XVI. When from my selfe sweet Cupid first bereft me.]
When frō my selfe sweet Cupid first bereft me
When frō my selfe sweet Cupid first bereft me, In Phillis hands he
left me, Wher in a Sunne of gladnes, That sees no clowds of
sadnesse, Myne eye beholds the beames of Beauties
treasure, Adoring Loue, for god of pleasure.
[XVII. Sweet singing Amarillis.]
Sweet singing Amarillis, my listning eare incharmed
Sweet singing Amarillis, my listning eare incharmed,
And my heedlesse eie was deadly harmed, when I there beheld the wanton looks of Phillis,
Alas, wherfore, haue not heauenly
fates prouided, By whom all things are guyded, That either Phyllis fare were
not so brightsom, Or Amarillis singing were lesse delightsom.
[XVIII. Fancy retyre thee.]
Fancy retyre thee
Fancy retyre thee, Alas my hart will fire thee,
And bony loue now frendlesse, that lyfe may remaine, Released of paine, Alas, the
hoopes are endlesse, yeelding much grief, but no gaine, And thou that wert my Iewell,
but alwaies cruell, yet because I lou'd thee, when loue and fancy mou'd mee,
O Amaryllis farewell. O Amarillis farewell.
[XIX. How long with vaine complaining.]
How long with vaine complayning
How long with vaine complayning, how long with dryry teares,
and ioyes refrayning, Shall we renewe his dying,
whose happy soull is flying, Not in a place of sadnes,
But of eternall gladnes, Sweet Sydney
liues in heau'n [ô] therfore let our weeping, be turnd to
hymns & songs of plesant greeting.
[XX. All ye that ioy in wailing.]
All yee that ioy in wayling
All yee that ioy in wayling, Come seat your selues arowe, and weepe beside me, That while my
life is fayling, The world may see, in loue what
ill betyd me: And after death doe this in my behoue, Tell
Cressed Troyilus is dead for loue.
