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TWO WELSH LOVERS
He wrung his hands and wept apace,
to mourne he did not lin: Riuers of teares ran downe his face,
and still he cride Due gwin.
2 I drew me neere vnto the Swaine,
and prayd him tell the cause, Why he so sadly did complaine,
he silent made a pause. At length he raisd himselfe to speake,
yet e're he could begin; He sigh'd as if his heart would breake,
and cryde alas Due gwin.
3 Quoth he, Among yon Brittish hills,
where Zephirus doth breathe: Where flowers sweet the Meadows fills,
and valleys vnderneathe, And neere vnto that fountaine head,
where Dee comes flowing in: Ah me, that fatall Nymph was bred,
for whom I cryde Due gwin.
4 I loued her once, but now I rue,
that I was such an Asse: For she did proue the most vntrue,
that euer woman was. Faire was her face, great was her fame,
had she still constant bin: But, Oh, her heart was not the same:
which makes me cry Due gwin.
5 Once had I power, till her command
forbad that power to rise, Further then touching of her hand,
or looking on her eyes. I feard to contradict her will,
as though it were a sinne: Yet she rewards my good with ill,
which makes me cry Due gwin. |
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