Pastorall Equinocks, or a Shepheards complaint

I That haue trac'd the mountaines vp and downe,
And pipte and chanted Songs and pleasant layes:
The whilst my flokes haue friskt it on the downe,
Now blinded loue my sportiue pleasures layes.
I that on greeny grasse could lay me do wne,
And sleepe as soundly as on beds of downe.

I then was free from loues all wounding blowe,
My Ewes and Lambs then merrily could folde:
I carde not then which way the winde did blowe,
Nor had I cause with griefe my armes to folde,
I feard not Winters frost, nor Summers sonne,
And then was I a happy mothers sonne.

I then could haunt the Market and the Faire,
And in a frolicke humor leape and spring:
Till she whose beauty did surpasse all faire,
Did with her frosty nip my Spring.
Then I alas, alas vnhappy I,
Was made a captiue to her scornefull eie.

When loue's fell shaft within my breast did light,
Then did my Cock-horse pleasures all a light,
Loues fiery ecclipsed all my light,
And she vnkinde, weyde all my woes to light.
O then my merry dayes away did hie,
When I so lowe did dote on one so hie.

Her beauty, which did make Loues Queene a Crowe,
Whofe white did shame the Lilly, red the Rose.
When Phoebus messenger the Cocke did crowe,
Each morne when from hia Antipods he rose.
Despight of gates, and barres, and bolts, and lockes,
Heed kisse her face, and guild her golden lockes.

Which makes my rest, like those that restles be,
Like one that's hard pursude, and cannot flye:
Or like the busie buzzing humming Bee,
Or like the fruitles nought respected Flye.
That cuts the subtill ayre so swift and fast,
Till in the Spiders web hee's tangled fast.

As blustring Boreas rends the losty Pyne,
So her vnkindenes rends and reaues my heart,
I weepe, I waile, I sigh, I grone, I pine,
I in ward bleed as doth the wounded Hart.
She that alone should onely wish me well,
Hath drownd my ioyes in sorrowes ioyles well.

The Tyger, and the sauage Beare,
All Beasts and Birds of prey that haunt the wood,
In my laments doe seeme some part to beare,
But onely She whose feature makes me wood,
As barbing Autumne robs the trees of leaues:
Her scorne me voyd of comfort leaues.

No Castle, Fort, no Rampier, or strong Hold,
But Loue will enter without Law or Leaue:
For where affections force hath taken hold,
There lawles loue will such impression ,
That Gods, nor men, nor fier, earth, water, winde,
Loues straight lawes can neither turne nor wind.

Then since haples haps falls out so hard,
Since all the fates on me their anger powre:
Since my laments and moanes cannot be heard,
And she on me shewes her commaunding power.
What then remaines, but I dissolue in teares,
Since her disdaines my heart in pieces teares.

Dye then sad heart in sorrowes prison pend,
Dye face thats with a deadly dye:
that in her praise hath Poems pend,
, and Hand, haples and helples dye.
Serieant Death, that rests and tak'st no bale,
onely thou must ease my bitter bale.

This said, he sighd, and fell into a sownd,
That the Hills, and Groues, and neigbouring Plaines,
The Ecchoes of his groanings seemd to sound,
With repercussion of his dying plaines.
And where in life he scorned counsell graue,
Now in his death he rests him in his graue.