Corydon. When my lovely one goes to her wheel, Singing cheerily— Phyllida. Sure methinks my true love doth excel For sweetness, for sweetness, Our Pan, that old Arcadian knight. Corydon. And methinks my true love bears the bell For clearness, for clearness, Beyond the nymphs that be so bright. Phyllida. Had my Corydon, my Corydon, Been, alack, her swainCorydon. Had my lovely one, my lovely one, Been in Ida plain— Phyllida. Cynthia Endymion had refused, Preferring, preferring, My Corydon to play withal. Corydon. The queen of love had been ex cused, Bequeathing, bequeathing, My Phyllida the golden ball. Phyllida. Yonder comes my mother, Cory don, Whither shall I fly? PHYLLIDA'S LOVE-CALL Corydon. Under yonder beech, my lovely one, While she passeth by. Phyllida. Say to her thy true love was not here: Remember, remember, To-morrow is another day. Corydon. Doubt me not, my true love, do not fear: Farewell then, farewell then, Heaven keep our loves alway. but oh I Dare not Fain I would, but oh I dare not, Speak my thoughts at full to praise her: Speak the best," cries Love, "and spare not; Thy speech can no higher raise her: Thy speech than thy thoughts are lower, Yet thy thoughts doth not half know her." How many New Years have grown Old How many new years have grown old Since first your servant old was new! How many long hours have I told Since first my love was vowed to you! And yet, alas! she doth not know Whether her servant love or no. How many walls as white as snow, Which faithfully performed was! And yet you'll swear you do not know Whether your servant love or no. How often hath my pale lean face, Whom neither sighs nor tears can move! O cruel, yet do you not know Whether your servant love or no? |