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¶The Shepheards solace.
PHoebus delights to view his Laurell tree, The Poplar pleaseth Hercules alone: Melissa mother is and sautrixe to the Bee, Pallas will weare the Oliue branch alone. Of Shepheards and their Flocks Pales is Queene: And Ceres ripes the Corne was lately greene. To Chloris euery flower belongs of right, The Dryade Nimphs of Woods make chiefe account: Orcades in hills haue their delight, Diana doth protect each bubling Fount. To Hebe louely kissing is assign'd: To Zephire euery gentle-breathing wind. But what is Loues delight? To hurt each where He cares not whom, with Darts of deepe desire: With watchfull iealousie, with hope, with feare, With nipping cold, and secret flames of fire. O happy houre, wherein I did forgoe: This little God, so great a cause of woe.FINIS.
Tho. Watson.