THYRSIS.
My faith broke through the net that death had spread;
To this pass have I come that I no more
Envy the highest and the richest store
Of happiness that man hath merited.
I saw thee, and this bliss was straightway born,
Fair Phyllis, unto whom fate gave for dower
To turn to good that which was bad before,
And win to laughter him who once did mourn.
E'en as the felon, when he doth espy