The Shepherd Arsilius his Song to his Rebeck

Now love and fortune turn to me again,
And now each one enforceth and assures
A hope, that was dismayed, dead, and vain;
And from the harbour of mishaps recures
A heart that is consumed in burning fire.
With unexpected gladness, that adjures
My soul to lay aside her mourning tire,
And senses to prepare a place for joy;
Care in oblivion endless shall expire;
For every grief of that extreme annoy.

Which, when my torment reign'd, my soul, alas!
Did feel, the which long absence did destroy,
Fortune so well appays, that never was
So great the torment of my passed ill.
As is the joy of this same good I pass.
Return, my heart, sursaulted with the fill
Of thousand great unrests and thousand fears;
Enjoy thy good estate, if that thou will.
And wearied eyes, leave off your burning tears.

For soon you shall behold her with delight.
For whom my spoils with glory Cupid bears.
Senses which seek my star so clear and bright,
By making here and there your thoughts estray,
Tell me, what will you feel before her sight?
Hence solitariness, torments away,
Felt for her sake! and wearied members cast
Off all your pain, redeem'd this happy day!

Oh, stay not. Time, but pass with speedy haste,
And Fortune hinder not her coming now!
O God! betides me yet this grief at last?
Come, ray sweet shepherdess, the life which thou,
Perhaps, didst think was ended long ago.
At thy command is ready still to bow.
Comes not my shepherdess desired so?
O God! what if she's lost, or if she stray
Within this wood, where trees so thick do grow?

Or if this nymph that lately went away,
Perhaps forgot to go and seek her out?
No, no, in her oblivion never lay.
Thou only art my shepherdess, about
Whose thoughts my soul shall find her joy and rest;
Why com'st not then to assure it from doubt?
Oh, seest thou not the sun pass to the west?
And if it pass and I behold thee not.
Then I my wonted torments will request,
And thou shalt wail my hard and heavy lot.