¶Philon the Sheepheard, his Song.
WHile that the Sunne with his beames hot,
Scorched the fruites in vale and mountaine:
Philon the Sheepheard late forgot,
Sitting besides a Christall Fountaine:
In shaddow of a greene Oake tree,
Vpon his Pipe this Song plaid he.
Adiew Loue, adiew Loue, vntrue Loue,
Vntrue Loue, vntrue Loue, adiew Loue:
Your minde is light, soone lost for new loue.
So long as I was in young sight,
I was as your hart, your soule, and treasure:
And euermore you sob'd and sigh'd,
Burning in flames beyond all measure.
Three dayes endured your loue to me:
And it was lost in other three.
Adiew Loue, adiew Loue, vntrue Loue. &c.
Another Sheepheard you did see,
To whom your hart was soone enchained:
Full soone your loue was leapt from me,
Full soone my place he had obtained.