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 My mother Circe with the Sirens three Amidt the flowrie-kirtl'd Naiades Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs Who as they ung, would take the prion'd oule And lap it in Elyium, Scylla wept, And chid her barking waves into attention, And fell Charybdis murmur'd oft applaue: Yet they in pleaing lumber lull'd the ene And in weet madnee rob'd it of it elfe, But uch a acred, and home-felt delight, Such ober certainty of waking blie I never heard till now. Ile peake to her And he hall be my Queene. Haile forreine wonder Whom certaine thee rough hades did never breed Vnlee the Goddee that in rurall hrine Dwell't here with Pan, or Silvan, by blet Song Forbidding every bleake unkindly Fog To touch the properous growth of this tall wood.
 * La. Nay gentle Shepherd, ill is lot that praie

That is addret to unattending Eares, Not any boat of skill, but extreame hift How to regaine my ever'd companie Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo To give me anwer from her moie Couch.
 * Co. What chance good Ladie hath bereft you thus?
 * La. Dim darknee, and this leavie Labyrinth.
 * Co. Could that divide you from neere-uhering guides?
 * La. They left me weary on a graie terfe.
 * Co. By falhood, or dicourteie, or why?
 * La. To eeke i'th vally ome cool friendly Spring.
 * Co. And left your faire ide all unguarded Ladie?
 * La. They were but twain, & purpos'd quick return.

Co.