s awake the morn,
Thy tears teach her to weep.

_Shepherd._

Sorrows, fair nymph, are full alone, 5
Nor counsel can endure.

_Nymph._

Yet thine disclose; for, until known,
Sickness admits no cure.

_Shepherd._

My griefs are such as but to hear
Would poison all thy joys; 10
The pity which thou seem'st to bear
My health, thine own destroys.

_Nymph._

How can diseased minds infect?
Say what thy grief doth move!

_Shepherd._

Call up thy virtue to protect 15
Thy heart, and know--'twas love.

_Nymph._

Fond swain!

_Shepherd._

By which I have been long
Destin'd to meet with hate.

_Nymph._

Fie! shepherd, fie! thou dost love wrong,
To call thy crime thy fate. 20

_Shepherd._

Alas! what cunning could decline,
What force can love repel?

_Nymph._

Yet there's a way to unconfine
Thy heart.

_Shepherd._

For pity, tell.

_Nymph._

Choose one whose love may be assur'd 25
By thine: who ever knew
Inveterate diseases cur'd
But by receiving new?

_Shepherd._

All will, like her, my soul perplex.

_Nymph._

Yet try.

_Shepherd._

Oh, could there be 30
But any softness in that sex,
I'd wish it were in thee!

_Nymph._

Thy prayer is heard: learn now t'esteem
The kindness she hath shown,
Who, thy lost freedom to redeem, 35
Hath forfeited her own.

TO THE COUNTESS OF S[UNDERLAND?] WITH THE HOLY COURT.[1:1]

Since every place you bless, the name
This book assumes may justlier claim.
(What more a court than where you shine?
And where your soul, what more divine?)
You may perhaps doubt at first sight 5
That it usurps upon your right;
And praising virtues that belong
To you, in others, doth you wrong.
No, 'tis yourself you read, in all
Perfections earlier ages call 10
Their own;