This page needs to be proofread.
XXXVII
Each beast in field doth wish the morning light;
The birds to Hesper pleasant lays do sing;
The wanton kids well-fed rejoice in night,
Being likewise glad when day begins to spring.
But night nor day are welcome unto me,
Both can bear witness of my lamentation;
All day sad sighing Corin you shall see,
All night he spends in tears and exclamation.
Thus still I live although I take no rest,
But living look as one that is a-dying;
Thus my sad soul with care and grief oppressed,
Seems as a ghost to Styx and Lethe flying.
Thus hath fond love bereft my youthful years
Of all good hap before old age appears.
