Shepheard:
Tell me O Loue, when shall it be
that thy faire eyes shall shine on me ?
Whom nothing now reuiueth,
Nimph:
I pray thee Shepheard leaue thy feares,
Drowne not thy heart and eyes with teares,
Such sighes my sence depriueth,
Shepheard:
Alas sweet Nymph, I cannot chuse
since thou estranged liues from me,
Nimph:
O doe not me for that accuse,
My loue, my life doth lifue in thee,
Both:
Alas, what ioy is in such loue
Shepheard:
that euer liues apart ?
Nimph:
and neuer other comforts proue,
but cares that kill the hart ?
Shepheard:
O, let me die,
Nimph:
And so will I,
Both:
yet stay sweet Loue and sing this song with me,
time bring to passe, what loue thinks could not be.
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