MY flocks feed not, |
|
My ewes breed not, |
|
My rams speed not, |
|
All is amiss: |
|
Love s denying, |
5 |
Faith s defying, |
|
Heart s renying, |
|
Causer of this. |
|
All my merry jigs are quite forgot, |
|
All my ladys love is lost, God wot: |
10 |
Where her faith was firmly fixd in
love, |
|
There a nay is placd without remove. |
|
One silly cross |
|
Wrought all my loss; |
|
O! frowning Fortune, cursed,
fickle dame; |
15 |
For now I see |
|
Inconstancy |
|
More in women than in men remain. |
|
|
In black mourn I, |
|
All fears scorn I, |
20 |
Love hath forlorn me, |
|
Living in thrall: |
|
Heart is bleeding, |
|
All help needing, |
|
O! cruel speeding, |
25 |
Fraughted with gall. |
|
My shepherds pipe can sound no deal, |
|
My wethers bell rings doleful knell; |
|
My curtal dog, that wont to have playd, |
|
Plays not at all, but seems afraid; |
30 |
My sighs so deep |
|
Procures to weep, |
|
In howling wise, to see my doleful
plight. |
|
How sighs resound |
|
Through heartless ground, |
35 |
Like a thousand vanquishd
men in bloody fight! |
|
|
Clear well spring not, |
|
Sweet birds sing not, |
|
Green plants bring not |
|
Forth their dye; |
40 |
Herds stand weeping, |
|
Flocks all sleeping, |
|
Nymphs back peeping |
|
Fearfully: |
|
All our pleasure known to us poor swains, |
45 |
All our merry meetings on the plains, |
|
All our evening sport from us is fled, |
|
All our love is lost, for Love is dead. |
|
Farewell, sweet lass, |
|
Thy like neer was |
50 |
For a sweet content, the cause
of all my moan: |
|
Poor Corydon |
|
Must live alone; |
|
Other help for him I see that
there is none. |
|