144859Venus salutes him with this faire good morrow,

860Oh thou cleare god, and patron of all light,

861From whom ech lamp, and shining star doth borrow,

862The beautious influence that makes him bright,

863 There liues a sonne that suckt an earthly mother,

864 May lend thee light, as thou doest lend to other.

145865This sayd, she hasteth to a mirtle groue,

866Musing the morning is so much ore-worne,

867And yet she heares no tidings of her loue;

868She harkens for his hounds, and for his horne,

869 Anon she heares them chaunt it lustily,

870 And all in hast she coasteth to the cry.

146871And as she runnes, the bushes in the way,

872Some catch her by the necke, some kisse her face,

873Some twin'd about her thigh to make her stay,

874She wildly breaketh from their strict imbrace,

875 Like a milch Doe, whose swelling dugs do ake,

876 Hasting to feed her fawne, hid in some brake,

147877By this she heares the hounds are at a bay,

878Whereat she starts like one that spies an adder,

879Wreath'd vp in fatall folds iust in his way,

880The feare where of doth make him shake, & shudder,

881 Euen so the timerous yelping of the hounds,

882 Appals her senses, and her spirit confounds.