Classic Poem

D OWNE : sate the shepeard swaine
 soe sober & demure,
wishing for his wench againe
 soe bonny & soe pure,
w i th his head on hillocke lowe,
& his armes a Cimbo,
And all for the losse of his hinononino!

The leaves thé fell as thin
 as water from a still;
the heire vpon his head did growe
 as time vpon a hill;
his cherry cheekes as pale as snowe
to testifye his mickle woe;
& all was for the loue of his hy &c

ffayre shee was to loue, as eu er liked swaine;
 neu er such a dainty one
shall none enioy againe;
 sett a thousand on a rowe,
time forbidds tha t any showe
euer the like to her hy &c

faire shee was, [of] comly hew,
 her bosome like a swan;
backe shee had of bending yew,
 her wast was but a span;
her hayre as blacke as any croe,
from the top to the toe,
all downe along to her hy &c

w i th her Mantle tucked vp
 shee fothered her flocke,
soe tha t they tha t doe her see
 may then behold her smocke,
soe finely doth shee vse to goe,
& neatly dance on tripp on toe,
tha t all men run madd for her hy &c

In a Meadow fayre & greene
 the shepard layeth him downe,
thinking there his loue to find
 sporting on a round,
A round which Maidens vse to go;
Cupid bidds itt shold bee soe,
because all men were made for her hy &c.