Here in my breast my Phyllis I descry.
DAMON.
If in her lovely face thou hadst espied
Signs of displeasure when thou didst depart
Far from the joy that thee hath satisfied,
Full well I know, my Thyrsis, that thine heart
Would be as full as mine of bitter woe—
Love's bliss was thine, but mine Love's cruel smart—
THYRSIS.
With words like these I pass the time, and so,