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LYke as the Culuer on the bared bough,
Sits mourning for the absence of her mate; and in her songs sends many a wishfull vew, for his returne that seemes to linger late. So I alone now left disconsolate, mourne to my selfe the absence of my loue: and wandring here and there all desolate, seek with my playnts to match that mournful doue Ne ioy of ought that vnder heauen doth houe, can comfort me, but her owne ioyous sight: whose sweet aspect both God and man can moue, in her vnspotted pleasauns to delight. Dark is my day, whyles her fayre light I mis, and dead my life that wants such liuely blis. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |