5
A rich suit of green embroider'd ware
With a garland of flow'rs had this lady fair,
To shade the sun from her beauty clear,
To the sheep in the vallies she did repair.
When two long years were finish'd and gone,
The squire to Oxford straight did return;
Her parents accus'd him of wronging their child,
He said she was fickle and false as the wind.
But now said her father I fear she is dead,
So we can add nothing what we have said;
But sure she was honest and virtuous to all,
And you are the man that caused her fall.
Now we will leave her parents to mourn,
And unto the Shepherdess let us return.
Who was the talk of folk far and near,
At length her lover the same came to hear.
He must see this beauty whatever betide.
Then he got his coach and away he did ride,
And just as bright Poebus was going down,
He came to the valley where she lay alone.
The lambs were sporting in innocent sort,
And she was pleased with their harmless sport;
Her fine silver hair sweet breezes did wave,
On a bank of sweet lillies she carelessly laid,
O gods! said the squire, sure she is divine,
