Harpalus

Lyrics

Oh, Harpalus! (thus would he say) Unhappiest under sunne! The cause of thine unhappy day By love was first begunne Thou wentest first by sute to seeke A tigre to make tame That settes not by thy love a leeke; But makes thy griefe her game As easy it were to convert The forest into a flame; As for to turne a frowarde hert Whom thou so faine wouldst frame Corin, he liveth carelesse: He leapes among the leaves: He eats the frutes of thy redresse: Thou "reapst" he takes the sheaves