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The Sheepheard Damons passion.
Ah trees, why fall your leaues so fast?
Ah Rocks, where are your roabes of mosse?
Ah Flocks, why stand you all agast?
Trees, Rocks, and Flocks, what, are ye pensiue for my loste?
Ah Rocks, where are your roabes of mosse?
Ah Flocks, why stand you all agast?
Trees, Rocks, and Flocks, what, are ye pensiue for my loste?
The birds me thinks tune naught but moane,
The winds breath naught but bitter plaint:
The beasts forsake their dennes to groane,
Birds, winds, and beasts, what, dooth my losse your powers attaint?
The winds breath naught but bitter plaint:
The beasts forsake their dennes to groane,
Birds, winds, and beasts, what, dooth my losse your powers attaint?
Floods weepe their springs aboue their bounds,
And Eccho wailes to see my woe:
The roabe of ruthe dooth cloath the grounds,
Floods, Eccho, grounds, why doo ye all these teares bestow?
And Eccho wailes to see my woe:
The roabe of ruthe dooth cloath the grounds,
Floods, Eccho, grounds, why doo ye all these teares bestow?
The trees, the Rocks and Flocks replie,
The birds, the winds, the beasts report:
Floods, Eccho, grounds for sorrow crie,
We greeue since Phillis nill kinde Damons loue consort.
The birds, the winds, the beasts report:
Floods, Eccho, grounds for sorrow crie,
We greeue since Phillis nill kinde Damons loue consort.
FINIS.
Thom. Lodge.
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