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The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,
And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale,
How cam'st thou here good Swain? hath any ram
Slip't from the fold, or young Kid lost his dam,
Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook?
How couldst thou find this dark sequester'd nook?
500
Spir: O my lov'd masters heir, and his next joy,
I came not here on such a trivial toy
As a stray'd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth
Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth
That doth enrich these Downs, is worth a thought
To this my errand, and the care it brought.
But O my Virgin Lady, where is she?
How chance she is not in your company?
Eld. Bro: To tell thee sadly Shepherd, without blame
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.
510
Spir: Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.
Eld. Bro: What fears good Thyrsis? Prethee briefly shew.
Spir: Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous,
(
Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)
What the sage Poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse,
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