In this Æglogue two Shepheards’ Boys, taking occasion of the season, begin to make purpose of love, and other pleasance which to springtime is most agreeable. The special meaning hereof is, to give certain marks and tokens, to know Cupid the poets’ god of Love. But more particularly, I think, in the person of Thomalin, is meant some secret friend, who scorned Love and his knights so long, till at length himself was entangled, and unwares wounded with the dart of some beautiful regard, which is Cupid’s arrow.
WILLY.THOMALIN.
WILLY.
Thomalin, why sitten we so,
As weren overwent with woe,
Upon so fair a morrow?
The joyous time now nigheth fast,
That shall alegge this bitter blast,
And slake the winter sorrow.
THO. Sicker, Willy, thou warnest well;
For winter’s wrath begins to quell,
And pleasant spring appeareth:
The grass now gins to be refresht,
The swallow peeps out of her nest,
And cloudy welkin cleareth.
WIL. Seest not thilk same hawthorn stud,
How bragly it begins to bud,
And utter his tender head?
Flora now calleth forth each flower,
And bids make ready Maia’s bower
That new is uprist from bed:
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