Espilus and Therion, their Contention in Song for the May-Lady

Espilus. Tune up my voice, a higher note I yield;
To high conceit the song must needs be high!
More high than stars, more firm than flinty field.
Are all my thoughts, in which I live and die.
Sweet soul, to whom I vow'd am a slave.
Let not wild woods so great a treasure have.

Therion. The highest note comes oft from basest mind,
As shallow brooks do yield the greatest sound;
Seek other thoughts thy life or death to find,
Thy stars be fallen, plough'd is thy flinty ground:
Sweet soul, let not a wretch that serveth sheep.
Among his flocks so sweet a treasure keep.

Espilus. Two thousand sheep I have, as white as milk.
Though not so white as is thy lovely face.
The pasture rich, the wool as soft as silk;
All this I give, let me possess thy grace.
But still take heed, lest thou thyself submit
To one that hath no wealth, and wants his wit.

Therion. Two thousand deer in wildest woods I have;
Them can I take, but you I cannot hold:
He is not poor who can his freedom save;
Bound but to you, no wealth but you I would.
But take this beast, if beasts you fear to miss,
For of his beasts the greatest beast he is.

Both kneeling to her Majesty.
Espilus. Judge you, to whom all beauty's force is lent.
Therion. Judge you of Love to whom all love is bent.