¶Montana the Shepheard, his loue to Aminta.
I Serue Aminta, whiter then the snowe,
Straighter then Cedar, brighter then the glasse:
More fine in trip, then foote of running Roe,
More pleasant then the field of flowring grasse.
More gladsome to my withering ioyes that fade:
Then Winters Sunne, or Summers cooling shade,
Sweeter then swelling Grape of ripest wine,
Softer then feathers of the fairest Swan:
Smoother then let, more stately then the Pine,
Fresher then Poplat, smaller then my span.
Clearer then Phaebus fierie pointed beame:
Or Icie crust of Christals frozen streame.
Yet is she curster then the Beare by kinde,
And harder harted then the aged Oake:
More glib then Oyle, more fickle then the winde,
More stiffe then steele, no sooner bent but broake.
Loe thus my seruice is a lasting sore:
Yet will I serue, although I die therefore.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.