A Roundelay between Two Shepherds

1 Shep. Tell me, thou gentle shepherd swain,

Who’s yonder in the vale is set?

2 Shep. Oh, it is she, whose sweets do stain

The lily, rose, the violet!

1 Shep. Why doth the sun against his kind,

Fix his bright chariot in the skies?

2 Shep. Because the sun is stricken blind

With looking on her heavenly eyes.

1 Shep. Why do thy flocks forbear their food,

Which sometime were thy chief delight?

2 Shep. Because they need no other good

That live in presence of her sight.

1 Shep. Why look these flowers so pale and ill,

That once attired this goodly heath?

2 Shep. She hath robb’d Nature of her skill,

And sweetens all things with her breath.

1 Shep. Why slide these brooks so slow away,

Whose bubbling murmur pleased thine ear?

2 Shep. Oh, marvel not although they stay,

When they her heavenly voice do hear!

1 Shep. From whence come all these shepherd swains,

And lovely nymphs attired in green?

2 Shep. From gathering garlands on the plains,

To crown our fair the shepherds’ queen.

Both. The sun that lights this world below,

Flocks, flowers, and brooks will witness bear:

These nymphs and shepherds all do know,

That it is she is only fair.