¶ The Sheepheards Sonnet.
MY fairest Ganimede disdaine me not, Though sillie Sheepheard I, presume to loue thee, Though my harsh Songs and Sonnets cannot mooue thee: Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot: Apollo, Ioue, and many Gods beside S'dain'd not the name of Country Sheepheards Swaines, Nor want we pleasures, though we take some paines. We liue contentedly: A thing call'd pride Which so corrupts the Court and euery place, (Each place I meane where learning is neglected, And yet of late, euen learnings selfe's infected,) I know not what it meanes in any case. We onely (when Molorchus gins to peepe, Learne for to fold, and to vnfold our Sheepe.Rich. Barnefielde.
FINIS.