shepheard, Colin, her own shepheard,
That her with heavenly hymnes doth deifie, 230
Of rusticke Muse full hardly to be betterd.
[* _Parted_, departed.]

"She is the rose, the glory of the day,
And mine the primrose in the lowly shade:
Mine? ah, not mine! amisse I mine did say:
Not mine, but His which mine awhile her made; 235
Mine to be-his, with him to live for ay.
O that so faire a flowre so soon should fade,
And through untimely tempest fall away!

"She fell away in her first ages spring,
Whilst yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde;
And whilst her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring, 241
She fell away against all course of kinde*.
For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong;
She fell away like fruit blowne down with winde.
Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong**.
[* _Kinde_, nature.]
[** _Undersong_, accompaniment.]

II.

"What hart so stonie hard but that would weepe.
And poure forth fountaines of incessant teares?
What Timon but would let compassion creepe
Into his breast, and pierce his frosen eares?
In stead of teares, whose brackish bitter well 250
I wasted have, my heart bloud dropping weares,
To think to ground how that faire blossome fell.

"Yet fell she not as one enforst to dye,
Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent,
But as one toyld with travell downe doth lye, 255
So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went,
And closde her eyes with carelesse quietriesse;
The whiles soft death away her spirit hent*,
And soule assoyld** from sinfull fleshlinesse.
[* _Hent_, took]
[** _Assoyld_, absolved.]

"Yet ere that life her lodging did forsake, 260
She, all resolv'd, and readie to remove,
Calling to me (ay me!) this wise bespake;
'Alcyon! ah, my first and latest love!
Ah! why does my Alcyon weepe and mourne,
And grieve my ghost, that ill mote him behove, 265
As if to me had chaunst some evill tourne!

"'I, since the messenger is come for mee
That summons soules unto the bridale feast
Of his great Lord, must needs depart from thee,
And straight obay his soveraine beheast; 270
Why should Alcyon then so sore lament
That I from miserie shall be releast,
And freed from wretched long imprisonment!

"'Our daies are full of dolour and disease.
Our life afflicted with incessant paine,