The Complaint of the Shepherd Harpalus,  
To a New Tune.  
 woodcut of shepherd  woodcut of lady  

POOR Harpalus oppressed with Love sat by a Christial brook,  
Thinking his sorrows to remove oft times therein did look:  
And hearing how on pebble stones the murmuring Rider ran,  
As if he had bequeathed his groans unto it thus he began.   

Fair streams quoth he that pities me, and hears my matchless moan,  
If thou be going to the Sea as I now suppone,  
Attend my plaints past all relief which dolefully I breath,  
Icquaint the Sea Nym's with the grief which still procutes m● death.   

Who sitting in the clifty Rocks may in their Songs express  
While as they comb ●heir golden locks poor Harpalus distress;  
And so perhaps some passengers that passeth by the way,  
May stay and listen for to hear them sing this doleful lay.   

Poor Harpalus a Shepherd Swain more rich in youth then store,  
Loved fair Philenea baplesse man Philenea O therefore.  
Who still remorseless hearted Maid took pleasure in his pain,  
And his good will poor soul repaid with undeserved disdain.   

Ne'er Shepherd loved Sheperdesse more faithfully than he  
Near Shepherd yet beloved less of Shepherdess could be.  
How oft did he with dying looks to her his woes impart,  
How oft his sight did testify the dolour of his heart.   

How oft from Valleys to the Hills did he his grief rehearse,  
How often echoed they his ills a back again alas.  
How oft on barks of stately pines, of Béech, of Holly green,  
Did he engage on mournful lines, the grief he did sustain.   

Yet all his plaints could have no place, to change Philena's mind,  
The more his sorrows did increase, the more she proved unkind.  
The thought thereof hath wearied ●ate▪ poor Harpalus did move,  
That overcome with high despair he lost both life and love.    

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.