A Seventeenth-Century Song
SHE alone of ShepherdessesWith her blue disdayning eyes,Wo’d not hark a Kyng that dressesAll his lute in sighes:Yet to winneKatheryn,I elect for mine Emprise.None is like her, none above her,Who so lifts my youth in me,That a littel more to love herWere to leave her free!But to winneKatheryn,Is mine utmost love’s degree.Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger,Build the four walles of her bower;She ’s noe Sweete for any stranger,She ’s noe valley flower:And to winneKatheryn,To her height my heart can Tower!Uppe to Beautie’s promontoryI will climb, nor loudlie callPerfect and escaping gloryFolly, if I fall:Well to winneKatheryn!To be worth her is my all.
SHE alone of ShepherdessesWith her blue disdayning eyes,Wo’d not hark a Kyng that dressesAll his lute in sighes:Yet to winneKatheryn,I elect for mine Emprise.None is like her, none above her,Who so lifts my youth in me,That a littel more to love herWere to leave her free!But to winneKatheryn,Is mine utmost love’s degree.Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger,Build the four walles of her bower;She ’s noe Sweete for any stranger,She ’s noe valley flower:And to winneKatheryn,To her height my heart can Tower!Uppe to Beautie’s promontoryI will climb, nor loudlie callPerfect and escaping gloryFolly, if I fall:Well to winneKatheryn!To be worth her is my all.
SHE alone of ShepherdessesWith her blue disdayning eyes,Wo’d not hark a Kyng that dressesAll his lute in sighes:Yet to winneKatheryn,I elect for mine Emprise.
SHE alone of Shepherdesses
With her blue disdayning eyes,
Wo’d not hark a Kyng that dresses
All his lute in sighes:
Yet to winne
Katheryn,
I elect for mine Emprise.
None is like her, none above her,Who so lifts my youth in me,That a littel more to love herWere to leave her free!But to winneKatheryn,Is mine utmost love’s degree.
None is like her, none above her,
Who so lifts my youth in me,
That a littel more to love her
Were to leave her free!
But to winne
Katheryn,
Is mine utmost love’s degree.
Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger,Build the four walles of her bower;She ’s noe Sweete for any stranger,She ’s noe valley flower:And to winneKatheryn,To her height my heart can Tower!
Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger,
Build the four walles of her bower;
She ’s noe Sweete for any stranger,
She ’s noe valley flower:
And to winne
Katheryn,
To her height my heart can Tower!
Uppe to Beautie’s promontoryI will climb, nor loudlie callPerfect and escaping gloryFolly, if I fall:Well to winneKatheryn!To be worth her is my all.
Uppe to Beautie’s promontory
I will climb, nor loudlie call
Perfect and escaping glory
Folly, if I fall:
Well to winne
Katheryn!
To be worth her is my all.