As fair as morn, as fresh as May, a pretty grace in saying nay, Smil’st thou sweetheart? then sing and say, Ta na na no, But O! that love enchanting eye,

Of joys and pleasing pains I late… O joys with pains! O pains with j… And little thought as then of now… But now think of my then sweet bit… All day long I my hands, alas! go…

Down in a valley as Alexis trips, Daphne sat sweetly sleeping. Soon as the wanton touch’€™d her r… She nicely falls aweeping. The wag full softly lifts her,

Long have I made these hills and… With noise of these my shrieks and… She only, who should make me merry… Hears not my prayer: That I, alas! misfortune’s son an…

Adieu, adieu sweet amaryllis. For since to part your will is. O heavy tiding Here is for me no biding.

I live, and yet methinks I do not… I thirst, and drink, and drink, an… I sleep, and yet I dream I am awa… I hope for that I have; I have an… I sing and sigh; I love and hate…

Hard destinies are love and beauty… Fair Daphne so disdainful! Cupid, thy shafts are too unjustly… Fond love, thy wounds are painful: But sith my lovely jewel

I love, alas! yet am not loved, For cruel she to pity is not moved… My constant love with scorn she il… Only my sighs a little she regarde… Yet more and more the quenchless f…

Thus saith my Cloris bright, when we of Love sit downe and talk… Beware of Love, deere, Love is a… And Love is this and that, And O I wot not what,

There, where I saw her lovely bea… Where, Venus-like, my sacred godd… There, with *precellent object min… That fair, but fatal star, my dole… As soon as morning in her light ap…

Ah! cannot sighs not tears, nor au… To pity me, who more than life do… O cruel fates! see, now away she’€… And fly, alas! alas! and leave me… Farewell, most fair, farewell, yet…

Away, thou shalt not love me. So shall my love seem greater And I shall love the better. Shall it be so? what say you? Why speak you not I pray you?

Cruel, behold my heavy ending, See what you wrought by your disda… Causeless I die, love still atten… Your hopeless pity of my complaini… Suffer those eyes which thus have…

The Lady Oriana Was dight all in the treasures of… And on her Grace a thousand grace… And thus sang they, fair Queen of… The fairest queen of twenty:

I am quite tired with my groans; O’ercharged with a heavy load Of miseries, breaking all my bones… Laid on me justly by my God.