Page:Complete Poems of Richard Barnfield.djvu/297

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THE SHEPHERDES CONFESSION.




To thy shrifte (greate chaplen of the familie of loue) com̄s ye passionat shephard of the westerne playnes to confes his faultes & to offer sacrifice for his offences. I haue loud, a foole yt I was & haue obtained. fy blab t I tell but trustinge to thy secresy let me open that thinge ye w'tting wherof is the greateste contente in loue. when in the blominge of my youth & in the florishinge time of the yere I first tooke vpō me ye charge of a shepherd, Phillis my fathrs neighbors Daughter draue likewise her fathrs flocke. at noone time as it often happens a monge vs shepherds I to a void the heate of the sonne vsed to wthdraw my self to a foūtaine springinge in her sheepgate where beinge my custome to meete her as on[e] day vnder ye couerlet of a rocke wh're gazing on ye cristall streame, in the watry glas, she did see the shadowe of Bellin my ram̄e how he was moūted one the yeaw to p'forme the duty of marradg. She asked me what the rāme did. I said he got on the yeaws backe to discrie if on the the (sic) hedge were any better food (& holy preist let me confesse my falte) I then spake as I thought but ye wily Phillis p'cevying my simplicity turnes her head and smiles