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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,

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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.

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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.

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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.

XII.

« A PROPER NEW SONG MADE BY A

STUDENT IN CAMBRIDGE.”

From the “ Handefull of Pleasant Delites, 1584."

To the tune of,- I wish to see those happy days.

I

who was once a happy wight,

And high in fortune's grace :
And who did spend my golden prime
In running pleasure's race,

Am now enforst of late

Contrariwise to mourn, Since Fortune joys into annoys

My former state to turn.

The toiling ox, the horse, the ass,

Have time to take their rest,
Yea, all things else which nature wrought,
Sometimes have joys in breast :

Save only I and such

Who vexed are with pain ; For still in tears my life it wears,

And so I must remain.

How oft have I in folded arms

Enjoyed my delight,
How oft have I excuses made,
Of her to have a sight!

But now to fortune's will

I caused am to bow, And for to reap a hugie heap,

Which youthfull years did sow.

Wherefore, all

ye

which do as yet
Remain, and bide behind,
Whose eyes Dame Beauty's blazing beams,
As yet

did never bind :
Example let me be
Το
you

and other more;
Whose heavy heart hath felt the smart

Subdued by Cupid's lore.

Take heed of gazing over much

On damsels fair unknown ;
For oftentimes the snake doth lie
With roses overgrown :'

And under fairest flowers

Do noisome adders lurk, Of whom take heed, I thee areed,

Least that thy cares they work.

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