gemmes,

15

Fit to decke maydens bowres,
And crowne their paramours,
Against the brydale day, which is not
long:9

Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I
end my song.

There, in a meadow, by the rivers side, A flocke of nymphes I chaunced to espy, 20 All lovely daughters of the flood thereby, With goodly greenish locks all loose untyde,

As each had bene a bryde:

And each one had a little wicker basket, Made of fine twigs entrayled curiously, 25 In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket;

And with fine fingers cropt full feateously 10 The tender stalkes on hye.