25 'But since that I shall die her slave,
Her slave, and eke her thrall,
Write you, my friends, upon my grave
This chance that is befall:
26 '"Here lieth unhappy Harpalus,
By cruel love now slain:
Whom Phillida unjustly thus
Hath murder'd with disdain."'
[1] 'Yfere' together. [2] 'Forced' cared for. [3] 'Shent:' spoiled. [4] 'Forwacht:' from much watching. [5] 'Makes:' mates. [6] 'Prest:' ready.
A PRAISE OF HIS LADY.
1 Give place, you ladies, and begone,
Boast not yourselves at all,
For here at hand approacheth one
Whose face will stain you all.
2 The virtue of her lively looks
Excels the precious stone;
I wish to have none other books
To read or look upon.
3 In each of her two crystal eyes
Smileth a naked boy;
It would you all in heart suffice
To see that lamp of joy.
4 I think Nature hath lost the mould
Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt if Nature could
So fair a creature make.
5 She may be well compared
Unto the phoenix kind,
Whose like was never seen nor heard,
That any man can find.
6 In life she is Diana chaste,
In truth Penelope;
In word, and eke in deed, steadfast;
What will you more we say?