Sphere of his bliss, and bade sweet fortune come;
But now I fear that in the silent tomb
Alone shall my presumption find its rest.
Of hope did Love, as vine of elm, take hold
Securely, and was climbing up with speed,
When moisture failed, and its ascent was stayed.
'Twas not the moisture of mine eyes: of old
Their tribute ever—Fortune this doth heed—
Unto face, breast and earth, mine eyes have paid.
Damon ceased, and Thyrsis, to the sound of the instruments of the three shepherds, began to sing this sonnet: