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¶Corins dreame of his faire Chloris.
WHat time bright Titan in the Zenith sat, And equally the fixed poales did heate: When to my flock my daily woes I chat, And vnderneath a broade Beech tooke my seate. The dreaming God which Morpheus Poets call Augmenting fuell to my Aetnaes fire, With sleepe possessing my weake sences all, In apparitions makes my hopes aspire. Me thought I saw the Nimph I would embrace, With armes abroade comming to me for helpe: A lust-led Satire hauing her in chace, Which after her about the fields did yelpe. I seeing my Loue in such perplexed plight, A sturdie bat from off an Oake I reft: And with the Rauisher continued fight, Till breathlesse I vpon the earth him left. Then when my coy Nimph saw her breathlesse foe, With kisses kind she gratifies my paine: Protesting rigour neuer more to show, Happy was I this good hap to obtaine. But drowsie slumbers flying to their Cell, My sudden ioy conuerted was to bale: My wonted sorrowes still with me doo dwell, I looked round about on hill and Dale: But I could neither my faire Chloris view, Nor yet the Satire which yer-while I slew.W. S.
FINIS.