Where I will make thee fans of boughs,
From Phoebus' beams to shade thy brows,
And cause them at the ferry cry,
A boat, a boat to Shackley-hay.

A troop of dainty neighbouring girls
Shall dance along the strand,
Upon the gravel all of pearls,

To wait when thou shalt land,
And cast themselves about thee round,
Whilst thou with garlands shalt be crown'd,
And all the shepherds with joy shall cry,
́O Sheldra, come to Shackley-hay

Although I did myself absent,
"Twas but to try thy mind;

But now thou mayst thyself repent
For being so unkind;

For now thou art turn'd by wind and fate,
Instead of love thou hast purchas'd hate,
Therefore return thee to the sea,

And bid farewell to Shackley-hay.

SECOND PART.

Thus all in vain did he complain,

And no remorse could find,

Young Palmus, through his own disdain,
Made Sheldra fair unkind,

And she is from him fled and gone;
He laid him in his boat alone,
And so betook him to the sea,

And bade farewell to Shackley-hay.

Then from the happy sandy shore,
Into the floating waves

His vessel, fraught with brinish tears,
Into the main he laves :

But all in vain, for why, he still

With weeping eyes his boat did fill; And launcht his boat into the sea, And bad farewell to Shackley-hay

Now farewell to my Sheldra fair,
Whom I no more shall see,
I mean to lead my life at sea,
By thy inconstancy.

Come, Neptune, come, to thee I cry,
With thee I'll live, with thee I'll die,
Thus he launch'd himself into the sea,
And bad farewell to Shackley-hay.

But far from thence he had not gone,
Ere Sheldra fair return'd,
Whose heart kind pity made to moan,
Such passion in her burn'd:

But when she to that place arriv'd

She found the shore from him depriv'd, And her dear Palmus, now at sea,

Had bad farewell to Shackley-hay.

She then with bitter sighs complain'd,
Her grief did so abound,
Oft grieving that she him disdain'd,
Whom she so loving found;

But now (alas) 't was all in vain,
For he was gone by her disdain,
Leaving that place to her alone,

Who now laments that he is gone.

O wretched Sheldra! then quoth she,
Confess what fond disdain

Hath wrath caused to fall on thee;
Could this long suffering pain,
By thee, alas! so soon forgot,

Serv'd to thy love's strange hateful lot, And thus to lie, and for him to cry Whom thou so fondly didst deny.

Who once did truly love, I see,
Shall never after hate,

As doth too well appear by me
In my forsaken state,

Alas, I meant my scorn to prove,
By only trial of his love,

Now hapless me, now I do see,
He hath forsaken woeful me.

Thus all this while in roughest seas,
Poor Palmus' boat was tost,
But more his mind by his disease,
Because he Sheldra lost:

In midst of this he her forswears,

He rent his boat, and tore his hairs,

Threw hope away, for he, alas!

Could be no more drown'd than he was.

E'en as his grief had swallow'd him,

So strove the greedy waves About his boat and o'er the brim,

Each lofty billow raves;

There is no trust to swelling powers

That what they may they still devour,

But by the breach the seas might see
The boat felt more the rage than he.

Thus wreckt and scatter'd was their state,
While he in quiet swam,

Through liquid paths to Thetis gate,
By soft degrees went down

$

Whom when the Nymphs beheld, the girls
Soon laid aside their sorting pearls,
And up they heav'd him as a guest,
Unlook'd for now come to their feast.

His case they pitied, but when they
Beheld his face right fain,

For very love, into the sea,
They pull'd him back again;
So were they with his beauty mov'd,
For what is fair is soon belov'd,
Thus with Nymphs he lives in the sea,
That left his love at Shackley-hay.

Then Sheldra fair to Shackley went,
To end her woeful days,

Because young Palmus cast himself
Into the floating seas,

At Shackley-hay did fair Sheldra die,
And Palmus in the sea doth lie,

So as they liv'd, so did they die,

And bad farewell to Shackley-hay.