_Gorbo_, as thou cam'st this waye
By yonder little hill,
Or as thou through the fields didst straye
Sawst thou my _Daffadill_?
Shee's in a frock of Lincolne greene
The colour maides delight
And neuer hath her beauty seen
But through a vale of white.
Then Roses richer to behold
That trim vp louers bowers, 10
The Pansy and the Marigould
Tho _Phoebus_ Paramours.
_Gorbo._ Thou well describ'st the Daffadill
It is not full an hower
Since by the spring neare yonder hill
I saw that louely flower.
_Batte._ Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
Nor news of her didst bring,
And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
Then that by yonder spring. 20
_Gorbo._ I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
In yonder field of Lillies,
Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
A wreathe of Daffadillies.
_Batte._ Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
My flower thou didst not see,
For know my pretie _Daffadill_
Is worne of none but me.
To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
No Lilly is so bould, 30
Except to shade her from the heate,
Or keepe her from the colde:
_Gorbo._ Through yonder vale as I did passe,
Descending from the hill,
I met a smerking bony lasse,
They call her _Daffadill_:
Whose presence as along she went,
The prety flowers did greet,
As though their heads they downward bent,
With homage to her feete. 40
And all the shepheards that were nie,
From toppe of euery hill,
Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
There goes sweet _Daffadill_.
_Gorbo._ I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
Thou all my flockes dost fill,
That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
Let vs to _Daffadill_.
_From Eclogue ix_
_Motto._ Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
Who's yonder in the vally set?
_Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
The Lilly, Rose, or violet.
_Motto._ Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
_Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
With gazing on her heauenly eies:
_Motto._ Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
Which somtyme was their chiefe delight, 10
_Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
That liue in presence of her sight:
_Motto._ How com those flowers to florish still,
Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
_Perkin._ She hath robd nature of her skill,
And comforts all things with her breath:
_Motto._ Why slide these brookes so slow away,
As swift as the wild Roe that were,
_Perkin._ O muse not shepheard that they stay,
When they her heauenly voice do heare. 20
_Motto._ From whence com all these goodly swayns
And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
_Perkin._ From gathering garlands on the playnes,
To crowne thy _Siluia_ shepheards queen.
_Motto._ The sun that lights this world below,
Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
_Perkin._ These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
Thy _Syluia_ is as chast, as fayre.
_From Eclogue ix_
_Rowland._ Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
_Chorus._ Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
_Row:_ O she alone the shepheards Queen,
_Cho:_ Her Flocke that leades,
The goddesse of these medes,
These mountaines and these plaines.
_Row:_ Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
_Cho:_ Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
_Row:_ Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
_Cho:_ Fy on that prayse, 10
In striuing things to rayse:
That doth but make them lesse.
_Row:_ That doe the flowery spring prolong,
_Cho:_ So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
_Row:_ And keeps the plenteous summer young:
_Cho:_ And doth asswage
The wrathfull winters rage
That would our flocks destroy.
_Row:_ _Ioue_ saw her brest that naked lay,
_Cho:_ A sight alone was fit for _Ioue_ to see: 20
_Row:_ And swore it was the milkie way,
_Cho:_ Of all most pure,
The path (we vs assure)
Vnto _Ioues_ court to be.
_Row:_ He saw her tresses hanging downe.
_Cho:_ That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
_Row:_ And sayd that _Ariadnes_ crowne,
_Cho:_ With those compar'd:
The gods should not regard
Nor _Berenices_ hayre. 30
_Row:_ When she hath watch'd my flockes by night,
_Cho:_ O happie were the flockes that she did keepe:
_Row:_ They neuer needed _Cynthia's_ light,
_Cho:_ That soone gaue place,
Amazed with her grace,
That did attend thy sheepe.
_Row:_ Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
_Cho:_ When as she shall be placed in the skies,
_Row:_ She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
_Cho:_ And euermore, 40
We shepheards will adore,
Her setting and her rise.