Corydon's Hymn in praise of Amaryllis

Would mine eyes were crystal fountains,
Where you might the shadow view
Of my griefs, like to these mountains,
Swelling for the loss of you!
Cares which cureless are, alas!
Helpless, hapless, for they grow;
Cares like tares in number pass
All the seeds that Love doth sow.
Who but could remember all?
Twinkling eyes still representing
Stars which pierce me to the gall,
'Cause they lend no more contenting.
And you, nectar-lips, alluring
Human sense to taste of heaven;
For no art of man's manuring
Finer silk hath ever weaven.
Who but could remember this?
The sweet odours of your favour
When I smell'd I was in bliss,
Never felt I sweeter savour.
And your harmless heart anointed.
As the custom was of kings.
Shows your sacred soul appointed
To be prime of earthly things.
Ending thus remember all:
Clothed in a mantle green; —
'Tis enough I am your thrall;
Leave to think what eye hath seen.
Yet the eye may not so leave,
Though the thought do still repine,
But must gare till death bequeath
Eyes and thoughts unto her shrine.
Which if Amaryllis chance
Hearing to make haste to see,
To life death she may advance:
Therefore eyes and thoughts goes free.