Page:Works of Edmund Spenser - 1857.djvu/387





shepheards boy (best knowen by that name) That after Tityrus first sung his lay, Laies of sweet love, without rebuke or blame, Sate (as his custome was) upon a day, Charming his oaten pipe unto his peres, The shepheard swaines that did about him play: Who all the while, with greedie listfull eares, Did stand astonisht at his curious skill, Like hartlesse deare, dismayd with thunders sound. At last, when as he piped had his fill, He rested him: and, sitting then around, One of those groomes (a iolly groome was he, As ever piped on an oaten reed, And lov’d this shepheard dearest in degree, Hight Hobbinol;) gan thus to him areed.
 * “Colin, my liefe, my life, how great a losse

Had all the shepheards nation by thy lacke! And I, poore swaine, of many, greatest crosse! That, sith thy muse first since thy turning backe Was heard to sound as she was wont on hye, Hast made us all so blessed and so blythe. Whilest thou wast hence, all dead in dole did lie: The woods were heard to waile full many a sythe, And all their birds with silence to complaine: The fields with faded flowers did seem to mourne, And all their flocks from feeding to refraine: The running waters wept for thy returne, And all their fish with languour did lament: But now both woods and fields and floods revive, Sith thou art come, their cause of merriment,