THE SHEPHERD’S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE.
Good Muse, rocke me aslepe
With some swete harmony:
This wearie eyes is not to kepe
Thy wary company.
Sweete Love, begone a while,
Thou seest my heavinesse;
Beautie is borne but to beguyle
My harte of happinesse.
See how my little flocke,
That lovde to feede on highe,
Doe headlonge tumble downe the rocke,
And in the valley dye.
The bushes and the trees,
That were so freshe and greene,
Doe all their daintie colors leese,
And not a leafe is seene.
The blacke bird and the thrushe,
That made the woodes to ringe,
With all the rest, are now at hushe,
And not a note they singe.
Swete Philomele, the birde
That hath the heavenly throte,
Doth nowe, alas! not once afforde
Recordinge of a note.
The flowers have had a frost,
The herbes have lost their savoure;
And Phillada the faire hath lost
For me her wonted favour.
Thus all these careful sights
So kill me in conceit,
That now to hope upon delights
It is but mere deceite.
And therefore my sweete muse,
That knoweth what helpe is best,
Doe nowe thy heavenlie cunning use
To sett my harte at rest.
And in a dream bewraie
What fate shall be my friende;
Whether my life shall still decaye,
Or when my sorrowes ende.
Nicholas Breton, about 1570.
PHILLIDA AND CORYDON.[[9]]
In the merrie moneth of Maye,
In a morne by break of daye,
With a troope of damsells playing,
Forth I yode forsooth a maying;
Where anon by a wood side,
Where as May was in his pride,
I espied all alone
Phillida and Corydon.
Much adoe there was, God wot;
He wold love, and she wold not.
She sayde never man was trewe;
He sayes none was false to you.
He sayde hee had lovde her longe:
She sayes love should have no wronge.
Corydon wold kisse her then:
She sayes maids must kisse no men,
Tyll they doe for good and all.
When she made the shepperde call
All the heavens to wytnes truthe,
Never lov’d a truer youthe.
Then with many a prettie othe,
Yea, and naye, and faithe and trothe;
Such as seelie shepperdes use
When they will not love abuse;
Love that had bene long deluded
Was with kisses swete concluded;
And Phillida with garlands gaye
Was made the ladye of the Maye.
N. Breton.