140835She marking them, begins a wailing note,

836And sings extemporally a wofull dittie,

837How loue makes yong-men thrall, & old men dote,

838How loue is wise in follie, foolish wittie:

839 Her heauie antheme still concludes in wo,

840 And still the quier of ecchoes answer so.

141841Her song was tedious, and out-wore the night,

842For louers houres are long, though seeming short,

843If pleasd themselues, others they thinke delight,

844In such like circumstance, with such like sport:

845 Their copious stories oftentimes begunne,

846 End without audience, and are neuer donne.

142847For who hath she to spend the night withall,

848But idle sounds resembling parasits?

849Like shrill-tongu'd Tapsters answering euerie call,

850Soothing the humor of fantastique wits,

851 She sayes tis so, they answer all tis so,

852 And would say after her, if she said no.

143853Lo here the gentle larke wearie of rest,

854From his moyst cabinet mounts vp on hie,

855And wakes the morning, from whose siluer brest,

856The sunne ariseth in his maiestie,

857 Who doth the world so gloriously behold,

858 That Ceader tops and hils, seeme burnisht gold.