The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed
With crawling woodbine overspread :
By which the silver-shedding streams
Shall gently melt thee into dreams.

Thy clothing next shall be a gown
Made of the fleeces' purest down.
The tongues of kids shall be thy meat;
Their milk thy drink; and thou shall eat

The paste of filberts for thy bread,
With cream of cowslips buttered.
Thy feasting-table shall be hills
With daisies spread and daffodils;

Where thou shalt sit, and red-breast by
For meat shall give thee melody.
I'll give thee chains and carcanets
Of primroses and violets.

A bag and bottle thou shalt have,
That richly wrought and this as brave,
So that as either shall express
The wearer's no mean shepherdess.

At shearing-times and yearly wakes,
When Themilis his pastime makes,
There thou shalt be; and be the wit,
Nay more, the feast and grace of it.

On holidays when virgins meet

To dance the hays with nimble feet,
Thou shalt come forth and then appear
The queen of roses for that year;

And having danced ('bove all the best)
Carry the garland from the rest.
In wicker-baskets maids shall bring
To thee, my dearest shepherdling,

The blushing apple, bashful pear,
And shame-faced plum all simp'ring there :
Walk in the groves and thou shalt find
The name of Phillis in the rind

Of every straight and smooth-skin tree,
Where kissing that I'll twice kiss thee.
To thee a sheep-hook I will send
Be-prankt with ribands to this end,

This, this alluring hook might be
Less for to catch a sheep than me.
Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine,
Not made of ale but spiced wine;

To make thy maids and self free mirth,
All sitting near the glittering hearth.
Thou shalt have ribbands, roses, rings,
Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes and strings

Of winning colours that shall move
Others to lust but me to love.

These, nay, and more, thine own shall be
If thou wilt love and live with me.

FRAGMENT.1

I WALK'D along a stream, for pureness rare,
Brighter than sun-shine; for it did acquaint
The dullest sight with all the glorious prey
That in the pebble-pavèd channel lay.

No molten crystal, but a richer mine,

Even Nature's rarest alchymy ran there,— Diamonds resolv'd, and substance more divine, Through whose bright-gliding current might appear A thousand naked nymphs, whose ivory shine, Enamelling the banks, made them more dear Than ever was that glorious palace' gate Where the day-shining Sun in triumph sate.

Upon this brim the eglantine and rose,

The tamarisk, olive, and the almond tree, As kind companions, in one union grows, Folding their twining 2 arms, as oft we see

1 From England's Parnassus, 1600, p. 480, where it is subscribed "Ch. Marlowe."

2 The text of England's Parnassus has "twindring," which is corrected in the Errata to "twining."

Turtle-taught lovers either other close,
Lending to dulness feeling sympathy;
And as a costly valance o'er a bed,

So did their garland-tops the brook o'erspread.

Their leaves, that differ'd both in shape and show, Though all were green, yet difference such in green, Like to the checker'd bent of Iris' bow,

Prided the running main, as it had been—