Sweet Phyllis, if a silly swain <br />May sue to thee for grace, <br />See not thy loving shepherd slain <br />With looking on thy face; <br />But think what power thou hast got <br />Upon my flock and me; <br />Thou seest they now regard me not, <br />But all do follow thee. <br />And if I have so far presumed, <br />With prying in thine eyes, <br />Yet let not comfort be consumed <br />That in thy pity lies; <br />But as thou art that Phyllis fair, <br />That fortune favour gives, <br />So let not love die in despair <br />That in thy favour lives. <br />The deer do browse upon the briar, <br />The birds do pick the cherries; <br />And will not Beauty grant Desire <br />One handful of her berries? <br />If it be so that thou hast sworn <br />That none shall look on thee, <br />Yet let me know thou dost not scorn <br />To cast a look on me. <br />But if thy beauty make thee proud, <br />Think then what is ordain'd; <br />The heavens have never yet allow'd <br />That love should be disdain'd. <br />Then lest the fates that favour love <br />Should curse thee for unkind, <br />Let me report for thy behoof, <br />The honour of thy mind; <br />Let Corydon with full consent <br />Set down what he hath seen, <br />That Phyllida with Love's content <br />Is sworn the shepherds' queen.<br /><br />Nicholas Breton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/corydon-s-supplication-to-phyllis/
