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His Darts offence he thus declarde: My Lorde, the ground of all
My grief was joy. Those joyes of mine remember first I shall.
It doth me good even yet to thinke upon that blissfull time
( meane the fresh and lustie yeares of pleasant youthfull Prime)
When I a happie man enjoyde so faire and good a wife,
And she with such a loving make did lead a happie life.
The care was like of both of us, the mutuall love all one.
She would not to have line with Jove my presence have forgone.
Ne was there any Wight that could of me have wonne the love,
No though Dame Venus had hir selfe descended from above.
The glowing brands of love did burne in both our brests alike.
Such time as first with crased beames the Sunne is wont to strike
The tops of Towres and mountaines high, according to the wont
Of youthfull men, in woodie Parkes I went abrode to hunt.
But neither horse nor Hounds to make pursuit upon the scent.
Nor Servingman, nor knottie toyle before or after went,
For I was safe with this same Dart. When wearie waxt mine arme
With striking Deere, and that the day did make me somewhat warme,
Withdrawing for to coole my selfe I sought among the shades
For Aire that from the valleyes colde came breathing in at glades.
The more excessive was my heate the more for Aire I sought.
I waited for the gentle Aire: the Aire was that that brought
Refreshing to my wearie limmes. And (well I bear't in thought)
Come Aire I wonted was to sing, come ease the paine of me
Within my bosom lodge thy selfe most welcome unto me,
And as thou heretofore art wont abate my burning heate.
By chaunce (such was my destinie) proceeding to repeate
Mo words of daliance like to these, I used for to say
Great pleasure doe I take in thee: for thou from day to day
Doste both refresh and nourish me. Thou makest me delight
In woods and solitarie grounds. Now would to God I might
Receive continuall at my mouth this pleasant breath of thine.
Some man (I wote not who) did heare these doubtfull words of mine,
And taking them amisse supposde that this same name of Aire
The which I callde so oft upon, had bene some Ladie faire:
He thought that I had lovde some Nymph. And thereupon streight way
He runnes me like a Harebrainde blab to Procris, to bewray