NO sooner had fair PHŒBUS trimmed his car,
Being newly arisen from AURORA's bed;
But I, in whom Despair and Hope did war,
My unpenned flock unto the mountains led.
Tripping upon the snow-soft downs I spied
Three Nymphs, more fairer than those Beauties Three
Which did appear to PARIS on Mount Ide.
Coming more near, my goddess I there see.
For She, the field Nymphs oftentimes doth haunt,
To hunt with them the fierce and savage boar:
And having sported, Virelays they chant;
Whilst I, unhappy, helpless cares deplore.
There did I call to her, ah, too unkind!
But tiger-like, of me she had no mind.