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[XVIII. Upon a bank with Roses set about]

Upon a banke with Roses set about

Upon a banke with Roses set about, Vpon a banke with Roses set about, with where pretty Turtles, ioyning bill to bill, And gentle springs steale softly murmuring out, Washing the foote of pleasures sacred hill, There little Loue sore wounded lyes, sore wounded lyes, His bow and arrowes broken, bedew'd with teares from Uenus eyes, with teares from Uenus eyes, Oh grieuous to be spoken, oh, Oh grieuous to be spoken.