scrib'st the Daffadill
It is not full an hower
Since by the spring neare yonder hill
I saw that louely flower.

_Batte._ Yet my faire flower thou didst not meet,
Nor news of her didst bring,
And yet my Daffadill more sweete,
Then that by yonder spring. 20

_Gorbo._ I saw a shepheard that doth keepe
In yonder field of Lillies,
Was making (as he fed his sheepe)
A wreathe of Daffadillies.

_Batte._ Yet _Gorbo_ thou delud'st me stil
My flower thou didst not see,
For know my pretie _Daffadill_
Is worne of none but me.

To shew it selfe but neare her seate,
No Lilly is so bould, 30
Except to shade her from the heate,
Or keepe her from the colde:

_Gorbo._ Through yonder vale as I did passe,
Descending from the hill,
I met a smerking bony lasse,
They call her _Daffadill_:

Whose presence as along she went,
The prety flowers did greet,
As though their heads they downward bent,
With homage to her feete. 40

And all the shepheards that were nie,
From toppe of euery hill,
Vnto the vallies lowe did crie,
There goes sweet _Daffadill_.

_Gorbo._ I gentle shepheard, now with ioy
Thou all my flockes dost fill,
That's she alone kind shepheards boy,
Let vs to _Daffadill_.

_From Eclogue ix_

_Motto._ Tell me thou skilfull shepheards swayne,
Who's yonder in the vally set?
_Perkin._ O it is she whose sweets do stayne,
The Lilly, Rose, or violet.

_Motto._ Why doth the Sunne against his kind,
Stay his bright Chariot in the skies,
_Perkin._ He pawseth almost stroken blind,
With gazing on her heauenly eies:

_Motto._ Why doe thy flocks forbeare their foode,
Which somtyme was their chiefe delight, 10
_Perkin._ Because they neede no other good,
That liue in presence of her sight:

_Motto._ How com those flowers to florish still,
Not withering with