Classic Poem

Now the spring is come, turne to thy loue, to thy loue,
to thy loue, to thy loue, without delay!
where the fflowers spring, & birds doe singe
their sweete tunes : # : # : doe not stay!
where I shall ffill thy lapp w i th fflowers,
& couer thee w i th shady bowers
Come away, Come awaye,
Come away, & doe not stay!

Shall I languish still for thy loue,
still ffor thy loue : # : # : w i thout releffe?
shall my ffaith soe well aproued
now dispayre : # : # : w i th my greeffe?
where shall vertue then be ffound
but where bewtye doth abound? Come away! &c.

fflora heere hath made a bedd ffor my loue,
ffor my loue : # : # : of roses redd.
Phebus beames to stay are bent,
ffor to yeeld : # : # : my loue content,
& the pleasant Eglantine
m[i]xt w i th a 1000 fflowers fine. Come away! &c.

Hearke! the Nightingale doth singe
ffor my loue: &c: the woods doe ringe
Pan, to please my loue, allwayes
pipethe there: &c: his roundelayes.
& the pleasant rushye brookes,
& euery fflower, for my loue lookes. Come away! &c.

Bewtyes Q ueen w i th all her traine
doth attend: &c: my loue vpon the plaine;
trippinge Satyres dancinge moue
delight: &c: my bewtyous loue
the muses nine, w i th musicke sweete
doe all attend, my loue to meete. Come away! &c.

ffairest ffaire! then turne to thy loue,
to thy loue: &c: tha t looues thee best!
lett sweete pittye moue! grant loue for loue
like the doue: &c: let our loue for eu er rest!

crowne my desires w i th a 1000 d ioyes!
thy loue reuiues, thy hate destroyes. Come away! &c.