Motto. Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
Who's yonder in the vally set?
Perkin. O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
The Lilly, Rose, or violet.
Motto. Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
Perkin. He pawseth almost stroken blind,
With gazing on her heauenly eies:
Motto. Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
Which somtyme was their chiefe delight,
Perkin. Because they neede no other good,
That liue in presence of her sight:
Motto. How com those flowers to florish still,
Not withering with sharpe winters breath?
Perkin. She hath robd nature of her skill,
And comforts all things with her breath:
Motto. Why slide these brookes so slow away,
As swift as the wild Roe that were,
Perkin. O muse not shepheard that they stay,
When they her heauenly voice do heare.
Motto. From whence com all these goodly swayns
And lonely nimphs attir'd in greene,
Perkin. From gathering garlands on the playnes,
To crowne thy Siluia shepheards queen.
Motto. The sun that lights this world below,
Flocks, Brooks and flowers, can witnesse bear,
Perkin. These shepheards, and these nymphs do know,
Thy Syluia is as chast, as fayre.