I'll learn to swim of some or other stranger passing by,
That I may know what pleasure 'tis in waters deep to dwell.
"Come forth, fair Galate! and once got out, forget thee well
}
(As I do, sitting on this rock) home to return again!{
But feed my sheep with me, and for to milk them take the pain!{
And cheese to press, and in the milk the rennet sharp to strain!{
My mother only wrongeth me; and her I blame, for she
Spake never yet to thee one good, or lovely, word of me:
And that, although she daily sees how I away do pine.