Orpheus’ Song

He that did sing the motions of the starres,
Pale colour’d Phaebus borrowing of her light:
Aspects of planets oft oppos’d in iarres,
Of Hesper Henchmen to the day and night
Sings now of Loue as taught by proofe to sing:
Women are false and loue a bitter thing.

I lou’d Eurydice the brighest Lasse,
More fond to like so faire a Nymph as she:
In Thesaly, so bright none euer was,
But faire and constant hardly may agree.
False harted wife to him that loued thee well:
To leaue thy loue and choose the Prince of hell.

Theseus did helpe, and I in hast did hie,
To Pluto, for the Lasse I loued so:
The God made graunt, and who so glad as I,
I tunde my Harpe, and shee and I gan goe,
Glad that my loue was left to me alone.
I looked back, Eurydice was gone.

She slipt aside backe to her latest loue,
Vnkinde shee wrong’d her first and truest Feere,
Thus womens loues, delights as tryall proues,
By false Eurydice I loued so deere.
To change, and fleete, and euery way to shrinke,
To take in loue, and lose it with a winke.