835She marking them, begins a wailing note,
¶And
sings extemporally a wofull dittie,
¶How loue makes yong-men thrall, & old men dote,
¶How loue is wi
se in follie, fooli
sh wittie:
¶_Her heauie antheme
still concludes in wo,
840_And
still the quier of ecchoes an
swer
so.
¶Her
song was tedious, and out-wore the night,
¶For louers houres are long, though
seeming
short,
¶If plea
sd them
selues, others they thinke delight,
¶In
such like circum
stance, with
such like
sport:
845_Their copious
stories oftentimes begunne,
¶_End without audience, and are neuer donne.
¶For who hath
she to
spend the night withall,
¶But idle
sounds re
sembling para
sits?
¶Like
shrill-tongu'd Tap
sters an
swering euerie call,
850Soothing the humor of fanta
stique wits,
¶_She
sayes tis
so, they an
swer all tis
so,
¶_And would
say after her, if
she
said no.
¶Lo here the gentle larke wearie of re
st,
¶From his moy
st cabinet mounts vp on hie,
855And wakes the morning, from who
se
siluer bre
st,
¶The
sunne ari
seth in his maie
stie,
¶_VVho doth the world
so gloriou
sly behold,
¶_That Ceader tops and hils,
seeme burni
sht gold.