"A SONNETT BY FERDINANDO EARLE OF

DERBY.

"There was a sheppard that did live,
And held his thoughts as highe

As were the mounts where on his sheepe
Did hourely feed him by.

"He, in his youth, his tender youth,

That was unapt to keepe

Or hopes or fears, or loves or cares,
Or thoughts but of his sheepe;

"Did with his dogg, as sheppards doe,
For shepheards fale in witt,

Devise him sports, though foolish sports,
Yett sports for shepheards fitt.

"Who free from cares, his only care
Was where his flocke did goe,

And that was much to him that kuewe

Noe other cares but soe.

"This boye, which yet was but a boye,
And soe desires were hid,

Did growe a man, and men must love,
And love the shepheard did.

*Sir John Hawkins observed, that this was improperly entitled a sonnet, being a poem of that pastoral kind which was culti vated in the reign of queen Elizabeth, and of which there are sundry specimens by the earl of Oxford, sir Edward Dyer, George Gascoigne, Dr. Lodge, Christopher Marlow, Nicholas Breton, and others, in the Paradyse of daintie Devises, England's Helicon, the Muses Library, and other collections. Antiq. Rep. vol. iii. p. 133.

"He loved much, none can to much Love one so high devine,

As but her selfe was never none

More fayre, more sweet, more fine.

"One day, as young men have such dayes When love the thought doth thrall,

Since wishes be but bare desires
Of things not gott withall:

"And he had wished oft and still,
And every wish in vayne,
And but to wish gave little ease,
For never endeth paine :

"He vowed by his shepherds weed,
An oath which shepherds keepe,

That he would follow Phillis love
Before a flocke of sheepe.

"Soe from his sheepe, his gentle sheepe, Ungently he did goe,

Not caring whose cares might them keepe,

Or car'd for aye or no.

"Leaving the playnes, the playnes whereon

They playd and hourelye fed,

The plaines to them, they to the plaines,
From plaines and them he fledd.

"Yet fledd he not, but went awaye
As one that had free scope,

Oft loath to leave and yet would leave
His quiet for his hope

"Blessed he was, but 'twas in thoughts,
And thoughts be blessings hidd,
And hidden blessings are noe blisse:-
And then he slumber did.

"Whome length of time and high desires In such a dumpe had cast,

As, ravisht with his thoughts, he slept
As he had slept his last.

"But as all quiets have their dead,

And every slepe his wake;

Now here to hope, now there to feare,

Now fancye, then forsake:

"Soe had this shepheard restles dreames

Amyd his tyme or rest,

Which forced him to wake for feare,
And prove his dreames a jest.

"And though that feare be nothing else

But as the fearefull deme,

Yet waking, every bush to him

A savage beast doth seeme.

"Which made him start, as men doe start

Whose resolucions breed

A quicknes, yet a carelesnes
Of that which maye succeed.

"Frighted he was, but not affraide,
For love makes cowards men,

And soe the bushes seemed them selves,
And were but bushes then.

"Which his faint eyes did quickelye fynd

Fill'd full with faithfull streams,

And soe he layd him by his dogg
That barkt not at his dreames.

"And there he rested till the daye, And only said thus much— 'My dogg is happyer than my selfe, Whom theis cares cannot touche.'"]

"But leave he did his snow-white flocke,

To seeke a nymphe as fayre As is the dew be-sprinkled rose, Or brightnes of the ayre.

"And first he sought the rivers sweet,
Whose runnings, every where,

In silent murmure did complaine
That Phillis was not there.

"And as he saw the fishes leape Before him for the flye,

Soe did the shephards harte for hope

That Phillis should be nye.

"But finding that his hopes were vaine,

And but as dreames to him;

He lean'd upon a tree that grew

Fast by the river's brim :

"And there he writt his fancye's thought,

'Love is a sweet intice,

<Gainst whom the wisest witts as yett

Have never found devise.'

"And thus he left the streames to hide

The kisses they did hold,

And went awaye, as whoe should saye

Love cannot be contrould.

"His thoughts were swifter then his feete,

Yet they did slowness shunn,

But mens desires have wings to flye,

Whose leggs can only runne.