Montemayor's Diana

Page 428

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Which thou sung’st on a day,
Dauncing with faire Diana on a greene.
No Tigresse nor no lionesse haue beene,
But with compassion mooued
Of all my torments, able to despaire one:
But not that cruell faire one,
The fierce deuouresse of my life approoued.
The fierce deuouresse of my life approoued,
My peerelesse Shepherdesse,
As fell in hart, as she is faire in face:
How then in such a case
Can I escape (O greefe) but die without redresse?
Can I escape (O greefe) but die without redresse
With deathes of racking passions?
But when I see Diana faire, her sight my griefes asswageth,
Yet then my soule enrageth:
The more I haue to doe with loue, the lesse I knowe his fashions.
The more I haue to doe with loue, the lesse I knowe his fashions,
His seruants he neglecteth
And he, that flying seeketh to escape his mortall chaine,
With thrise redoubled paine
He wounds, and with his furious plagues his wretched soule infecteth.
Faire Shepherdesse, whose face the heauenly powers
Haue graced with more beautie, then the Roses:
And sweeter then the purple golden flowers,
That deckes our meades and virgins brestes with poses:
So may the heauens powre downe in copious plentie
Vpon thy flockes their fauours most abounding:
And thy faire ewes, with double twins not emptie,
In numbers swarme, in profit still redounding:
That to my soule, which my demerit pesters,
Thou wouldst not shew sterne lookes, nor angrie gestures.
Faire Shepher desse, that with thy neighbour dwelling,
Dost cleere thy fieldes bedight with Daffodillies,
The driuen snowe in whitenesse far excelling,
In beautie Gilloflowres, and stately lillies:


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