Thus when she had his eyes and senses fed
With false delights, and fild with pleasures vaine,
Into a shadie dale she soft him led,
And laid him downe upon a grassie plaine;
And her sweet selfe without dread, or disdaine,
She set beside, laying his head disarm'd
In her loose lap, it softly to sustaine,
Where soone he slumbred, fearing not be harm'd,
The whiles with a loue lay she thus him sweetly charm'd.
'Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take
The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant growes,
How they themselues doe thine ensample make,
Whiles nothing envious nature them forth throwes
Out of her fruitfull lap; how, no man knowes,
They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire,
And deck the world with their rich pompous showes;
Yet no man for them taketh paines or care,
Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare.
'The lilly, Ladie of the flowring field,
The Flowre-deluce, her lovely Paramoure,
Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labours yield,
And soone leave off this toylesome wearie stoure;
Loe loe how brave she decks her bounteous boure,
With silken curtens and gold couerlets,
Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure,
Yet neither spinnes nor cardes, ne cares nor frets,
But to her mother Nature all her care she lets.
'Why then dost thou, O man, that of them all
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soveraine,
Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall,
And wast thy joyous houres in needlesse paine,
Seeking for daunger and adventures vaine?
What bootes it all to have, and nothing use?
Who shall him rew, that swimming in the maine,
Will die for thirst, and water doth refuse?
Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.'
