260
The second Booke of
Cant. VI.
It was a chosen plott of fertile land,Emongst wide waues sett, like a litle nest,As if it had by Natures cunning hand,Bene choycely picked out from all the rest,And laid forth for ensample of the best:No dainty flowre or herbe, that growes on grownd,No arborett with painted blossomes drest,And smelling sweete, but there it might be fowndTo bud out faire, & throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
No tree, whose braunches did not brauely spring;No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sitt:No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetely sing;No song but did containe a louely ditt:Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fitt,For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease.Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake wittWas ouercome of thing, that did him please;So pleased, did his wrathfull purpose faire appease.
Thus when shee had his eyes and sences fedWith false delights, and fild with pleasures vayn,Into a shady dale she soft him led,And laid him downe vpon a grassy playn;And her sweete selfe without dread, or disdayn,She sett beside, laying his head disarmdIn her loose lap, it softly to sustayn,Where soone he slumbred fearing not be harmd,The whils with a loue lay she thus him sweetly charmd.
Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest takeThe flowrs, the fields, and all that pleasaunt growes,How they them selues doe thine ensample make,Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes
Out
