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Nereas Song.
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IN those most happy fieldes and plaines,
Where Guadaljar in goodly vaines
With christall streames doth glide,
Leauing the sweete and pleasant fieldes,
Vnto the sea his tribute yeeldes
And runs with hastie tide.
Faire Galatee full of disdaine,
And ioyfull of the woes and paine
To Lycius that she gaue,
Played vpon the sands and shore,
The which the sea sometimes before
Doth wash with wallowing waue.
Gathering amongst the sandes alone
Fine shels, and many a painted stone,
As she went vp and downe:
And singing many songs so sweete,
The which the roring billowes yet
Did alter much and drowne.
Neere to the water side she hies,
And there the waues that fall and rise
She view’d with great delight;
And fled, when that they came amaine,
And sometimes could not, but was faine
To wet her feete so white.
Lycius, who had in suffring paines
No equall in those fieldes and plaines,
His torments there suspended,
Whiles that he view’d with great content
His Shepherdesse so excellent,
For beautie most commended.
But now comparing his vnrest
With all the ioy that she possest,
The Shepherd halfe decaied
With dolefull voice his sad complaints
To shores and champaines he acquaints,
And in this manner said.
O fairest Nymph, if that thou please,
Play not about the roring seas,
Although thy chiefe delight
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Consist therein, yet Galatee
As thou dost Licius, so the sea
Eschew with hastie flight.
And now (sweete Nymph) leaue of to play,
For it doth greeue me day by day
To see thee on the sandes:
O doe not now torment me more,
For seeing thee vpon the shore
I feare false Neptunes hands.
And this doth fill me full of doubtes,
That I must credit these my thoughtes,
Bicause it is most cleere,
That if he die not now for thee,
He will no doubt thy louer bee
When that he sees thee heere.
And this is sure: For loue doth knowe,
Since first my soule he wounded so,
That I should neuer want
A stronger riuall, and more stoute,
Then I, who daily would seeke out
My true loue to supplant.
Leaue then the barren sands and shore,
Forsake the cliffes, come there no more,
Flie from that dangerous coast:
Take hee de no monster of the sea
Surprise thee not (faire Galatee)
Where many haue beene lost.
Flie now, and see how I endure
Ten thousand greefes to see thee sure,
Bicause with double paine
Ie alous I am of thy content,
And for thy dangers imminent
Great cares I doe sustaine.
In seeing thee so mery and glad,
My iealous thoughts doe make me sad,
And thinke of Europe faire,
Deceiued by a milke white bull,
As on the sea bankes she did cull
Fine flowers to dresse her haire.
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