A shaft in earnest snatched,
And hit me running in the heel:
For then I little smart did feel,
But soon it sore increased;
And now it rankleth more and more,
And inwardly it fest’reth sore,
Ne wote I how to cease it.
WIL. Thomalin, I pity thy plight,
Perdie with Love thou didest fight;
I know him by a token:
For once I heard my father say,
How he him caught upon a day,
(Whereof he will be wroken,)
Entangled in a fowling net,
Which he for carrion crows had set
That in our pear-tree haunted:
Then said, he was a winged lad,
But bow and shafts as then none had,
Else had he sore been daunted.
But see, the welkin thicks apace,
And stooping Phœbus steeps his face;
It’s time to haste us homeward.
WILLY’S EMBLEME.
To be wise and eke to love,
Is granted scarce to gods above.
THOMALIN’S EMBLEME.
Of honey and of gall in love there is stove;
The honey is much, but the gall is more.
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