Tom and Will.
OR,
The Shepherds Sheepfold.
Both doated on a beautiful Lass,
Both were alike respected;
Both thought themselves ith better case,
Both were at last neglected.
To a pleasant new Country Tune.
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TOm and Will were Shepherds Swains,
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who lovd and livd together;
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When fair Pastora gravd the Plains,
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alack why come she thither?
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For though they fed two several Flocks,
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they had but one desire,
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Pastoras eyes, and amber locks,
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set both their hearts on fire.
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Tom came of honest gentle race,
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by Father and by Mother,
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Will was noble, but alas,
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he was a younger Brother.
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Tom was toilsome, Will was sad,
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no Hunts-Man; nor no Fowler,
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Tom was held the proper Lad,
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but Will the better Bowler.
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The scorching flames their hearts did bear,
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then they could no longer smother,
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Although they knew they Rivals were,
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they still lovd one another.
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Tom would drink her health and swear,
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this Nation will not want her,
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Will could not take her by the ear,
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and with his voice inchant her.
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Tom keeps always in her sight,
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and ner forget his duty;
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Will was witty and could write,
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some sonnets on her beauty.
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The second Part, to the same Tune.
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THus did she handle Tom and Will,
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who both did dote upon her;
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For graciously she usd them still,
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and still preservd her honour.
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Yet she was so sweet a she,
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and of so sweet behaviour,
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That Tom thought he, & Will thought he,
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was chiefly in her favour.
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Pastora was a loving Lass,
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and of a comely feature,
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Devinely good and fair she was,
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and kind to every creature.
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Of favour she was provident,
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and yet not over-sparing,
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She gave no less encouragement,
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yet kept them from despairing.
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Which of these two she loved best,
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or whether she lovd either,
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Tis thought theyl find it to their cost,
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that she indeed lovd neither.
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She dealt her favour equally,
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they both were well contented,
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She kept them both from jealousie,
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not easily prevented.
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Tale-telling fame hath made report,
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of fair Pastoras beauty,
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Pastoras sent for to the Court,
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there for to perform her duty.
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Unto the Court pastoras gone,
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it had been no Court without her,
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Our Queen amongst all her train had none
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not half so fair about her.
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Tom hung his Dog, and threw away,
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his Sheep-crook and his Wallet,
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Will burst his Pipes, and curst the day,
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that ere he made a Sonnet.
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Their nine-pins & their bowls they break,
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their joys are turnd to fears;
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Tis time for me an end to make,
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let them go shake their ears.
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