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��JOHN FLETCHER
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth'
2/7 Hymn to Pan
NG his praises that doth keep Our flocks from harm, Pan, the father of our sheep;
And arm in arm> Tread we softly in a round, Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground Fills the music with her sound.
Pan, O great god Pan, to thee
Thus do we sing' Thou who keep'st us chaste and free
As the young spring Ever be thy honour bpokc From that place the morn is broke To that place day doth unyoke!
2 1 8 Away, Delights
kWAY, delights' go seek some other dwelling^
For I must die. Farewell, false love' thy tongue is ever telling
Lie after lie.
For ever let me rest now from thy smarts; Alas, for pity go And fire their hearts
That have been hard to thee' Mine was not so.
�� �
