The Nightingall

Ivg, IVg; faire fall the Nightingall,
Whose tender breast
Chants out her merrie Madrigal,
With hawthorne prest:
Te'u, Te'u, thus sings she euen by euen,
And represents the melodie in heauen;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.

Rape-defiled Phylomel
In her sad mischance,
Tells what she is forc'd to tell,
While the Satyres dance:
Vnhappie I, quoth she, vnhappie I,
That am betraide by Tereus trecherie;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish:

Chast-vnchast, defloured, yet
Spotlesse in heart,
Lust was all that He could get,
For all his art:
For I nere attention lt
To his suite, nor gaue consent
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.

Thus hath faithlesse Tereus made
Heartlesse Phylomele
Mone her in her forlorne shade,
Where griefe I feele:
Griefe that wounds me to the heart,
Which though gone, hath left her smart;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.