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For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,
And cares can make the sweetest cares to frown :

Ah then, ah then,
If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain'

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His flocks are folded; he comes home at night As merry as a king in his delight,

And merrier too :

For kings bethink them what the state require,
Where shepherds, careless, carol by the fire :

Ah then, ah then,
If country love such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat
His cream and curd, as doth the king his meat,

And blither too :
For kings have often fears when they sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup :

Ah then, ah then,
If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound
As doth the king upon his beds of down,

More sounder too :
For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:

Ah then, ah then,
If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

Thus with his wife he spends the year as blithe As doth the king at every tide or syth,

And blither too :
For kings have wars and broils to take in hand,
When shepherds laugh, and love upon the land :

Ah then, ah then,
If country love such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

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[BARNFIELD, who wrote the following piece about the year 1592, is little known in any other way. ]

As it fell upon a day,
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made ;
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring ; .
Everything did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone.

She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Leand her breast up-till a thorn ;
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.
Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;
Teru, teru, by and by ;
That, to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain ;
For her griefs, so lively shown,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'st in vain ;
None takes pity on thy pain :
Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee,
Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee :
King Pandion he is dead ;
All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
All thy fellow-birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing !
Whilst as fickle Fortune smild,
Thou and I were both beguild.
Every one that flatters thee
Is no friend in misery.
Words are easy, like the wind;
Faithful friends are hard to find.
Every man will be thy friend
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend :
But, if store of crowns be scant,
No man will supply thy want.
If that one be prodigal,

Bountiful they will him call;
And with such-like flattering,
Pity but he were a king.'
If he be addict to vice,
Quickly him they will entice;
But if fortune once do frown,
Then farewell his great renown:
They that fawn'd on him before
Use his company no more.
He that is thy friend indeed,
He will help thee in thy need :
If thou sorrow, he will weep,
If thou wake he cannot sleep :
Thus, of every grief in heart
He with thee doth bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.

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