For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after joy,[°]
But pynd away in anguish and selfe-wild annoy.[°]
XVIII
The wooddy Nymphes, faire Hamadryades,[°]
Her to behold do thither runne apace,
And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades[°]
Flocke all about to see her lovely face:
But when they vewed have her heavenly grace,
They envy her in their malitious mind,