LACON. For a kiss or two, confess, <br />What doth cause this pensiveness, <br />Thou most lovely neat-herdess? <br />Why so lonely on the hill? <br />Why thy pipe by thee so still, <br />That erewhile was heard so shrill? <br />Tell me, do thy kine now fail <br />To fulfil the milking-pail? <br />Say, what is't that thou dost ail? <br /> <br />THYR. None of these; but out, alas! <br />A mischance is come to pass, <br />And I'll tell thee what it was: <br />See, mine eyes are weeping ripe. <br />LACON. Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe. <br /> <br />THYR. I have lost my lovely steer, <br />That to me was far more dear <br />Than these kine which I milk here; <br />Broad of forehead, large of eye, <br />Party-colour'd like a pye, <br />Smooth in each limb as a die; <br />Clear of hoof, and clear of horn, <br />Sharply pointed as a thorn; <br />With a neck by yoke unworn, <br />From the which hung down by strings, <br />Balls of cowslips, daisy rings, <br />Interplaced with ribbonings; <br />Faultless every way for shape; <br />Not a straw could him escape, <br />Ever gamesome as an ape, <br />But yet harmless as a sheep. <br />Pardon, Lacon, if I weep; <br />Tears will spring where woes are deep. <br />Now, ai me! ai me! Last night <br />Came a mad dog, and did bite, <br />Ay, and kill'd my dear delight. <br /> <br />LACON Alack, for grief! <br />THYR. But I'll be brief. <br />Hence I must, for time doth call <br />Me, and my sad playmates all, <br />To his evening funeral. <br />Live long, Lacon; so adieu! <br /> <br />LACON Mournful maid, farewell to you; <br />Earth afford ye flowers to strew!<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-bucolic-betwixt-two-lacon-and-thyrsis/
