Xvii

By vew of her he ginneth to revive His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse,° And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive, How faire he was, and yet not faire to this,° And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse A gentle Hynd, the which the lovely boy Did love as life, above all worldly blisse; For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after joy,° But pynd away in anguish and selfe-wild annoy.°