Classic Poem

When I walke forth into the woodes
(With heauie passion to complaine)
I vewe the trees with blushing buddes
Asham'd, or greeued at my paine:
There Amaranthe , with rosie staine
(Me pittying) doth his leaues ingraine.

When I passe pensiue to the shore,
The water byrdes about me flye:
As if they mournde, when riuers roare,
Chyding thy wrathfull crueltie:
Halcion watcheth warily
To chyde thee, when thou commest-by.

If to the Citie I repaier,
Mine eyes thy crueltie betray:
And (those which vew me) finde my cayer:
Swolne eyes, and sorrowes it betray,
Whose figures in my forhead are:
These curse the cause of mine il-fare.

When I go forth to feede my flockes,
As I, so they hang downe their head:
If I complaine to ruthlesse rockes
(For that it seemes hard rockes her bred)
Rockes ruth in riuers may be redde,
Which from those rockes downe-trickled.

When shepheard's would know how I fare,
And aske how doth Parthenophil :
Il Eccho answer's in voyde ayer:
And with these newes each place doth fill.
Poore herdgroomes from each cottage will
Sing my complaintes, on euery hill.