In secret shade farre moved from mortals sight
In lowly dale my wandring limbs I laid
On the cool grasse where Natures pregnant wit
A goodly bower of thickest trees had made.
Amongst the leaves the chearfull birds did fare
And sweetly carrol’d to the echoing air.
Hard at my feet ran down a crystall spring
Which did the cumbrous pebbles hoarsly chide
For standing in the way. Though murmuring
The broken stream his course did rightly guide