r'd my sense, given me new breath,
And brought me back out of the arms of death?

_God._ I have heal'd thy wounds.

_Amo._ Ay me!

_God._ Fear not him that succour'd thee:
I am this Fountains god; below,
My waters to a River grow,
And 'twixt two banks with Osiers set,
That only prosper in the wet,
Through the Meadows do they glide,
Wheeling still on every side,
Sometimes winding round about,
To find the evenest channel out.
And if thou wilt go with me,
Leaving mortal companie,
In the cool streams shalt thou lye,
Free from harm as well as I:
I will give thee for thy food,
No Fish that useth in the mud,
But Trout and Pike that love to swim
Where the gravel from the brim
Through the pure streams may be seen:
Orient Pearl fit for a Queen,
Will I give thy love to win,
And a shell to keep them in:
Not a Fish in all my Brook
That shall disobey thy look,
But when thou wilt, come sliding by,
And from thy white hand take a fly.
And to make thee understand,
How I can my waves command,
They shall bubble whilst I sing
Sweeter than the silver spring.

_The SONG.

Do not fear to put thy feet
Naked in the River sweet;
Think not Leach, or Newt or Toad
Will bite thy foot, when thou hast troad;
Nor let the water rising high,
As thou wad'st in, make thee crie
And sob, but ever live with me,
And not a wave shall trouble thee._

_Amo._ Immortal power, that rul'st this holy flood,
I know my self unworthy to be woo'd
By thee a god: for e're this, but for thee
I should have shown my weak Mortalitie:
Besides, by holy Oath betwixt us twain,
I am betroath'd unto a Shepherd swain,
Whose comely face, I know the gods above
May make me leave to see, but not to love.

_God._ May he prove to thee as true.
Fairest Virgin, now adieu,
I must make my waters fly,
Lest they leave their Channels dry,
And beasts that come unto the spring
Miss their mornings watering,
Which I would not; for of late
All the neighbour people sate
On my banks, and from the fold,
Two white Lambs of three weeks old
Offered to my Deitie:
For which this year they shall be free
From raging floods, that as they pass
Leave their gravel in the grass:
Nor shall their Meads be overflown,
When their grass is newly mown.

_Amo._ For thy kindness to me shown,
Never from thy banks be blown
Any tree, with windy force,
Cross thy streams, to stop thy course:
May no beast that comes to drink,
With his horns cast down thy brink;
May none that for thy fish do