Classic Poem

Tell me, thou skilful shepherd's swain,
Who's yonder in the valley set? Perkin
O it is she whose sweets do stain
The lily, rose, the violet. Motto

Why doth the sun, against his kind,
Stay his bright chariot in the skies? Perkin
He pauseth, almost strooken blind,
With gazing on her heavenly eyes. Motto

Why do thy flocks forbear their food,
Which sometime was their chief delight? Perkin
Because they need no other good,
That live in presence of her sight. Motto

How come those flowers to flourish still,
Not withering with sharp winter's breath? Perkin
She hath robb'd Nature of her skill,
And comforts all things with her breath. Motto

Why slide these brooks so slow away,
As swift as the wild roe that were? Perkin
O muse not, shepherd, that they stay,
When they her heavenly voice do hear. Motto

From whence come all these goodly swains
And lovely girls attir'd in green? Perkin
From gathering garlands on the plains
To crown thy Syl, our shepherd's queen. Motto

The sun that lights this world below,
Flocks, brooks, and flowers, can witness bear, Perkin
These shepherds and these nymphs do know,
Thy Sylvia is as chaste as fair.