“This pleasant land, which nature’s hand hath set
Before your eyes, might cause you to forget
Your discontent, the obiect of the eye
Oft times giues ease to woes, which inward lie.
99.
Behold vpon that mountaine’s top so steepe,
Which seemes to pierce the cloudes and kisse the skie,
How the gray shepheard driues his flock of sheepe
Downe to the vale, and how on rockes fast by
The goates frisk to and fro for iollitie: