Ode to the Cambro-Britons and their Harp, His Ballad of Agi by Michael Drayton

"DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,         Autumne waxing olde and chill,         As he sate his Flocks to keepe         Vnderneath an easie hill:"

"You best discern'd of my interior eies,     And yet your graces outwardly diuine,     Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,     Too riche"

"Such was old Orpheus cunning,     That sencelesse things drew neere him,     And heards of beasts to heare him,     The stock, the stone, the O"

"To such as say thy love I overprize,     And do not stick to term my praises folly,     Against these folks that think themselves so wise,"

"The ocean heaves around us still With long and measured swell, The autumn gales our canvas fill, Our ship rides smooth and well. The broad Atlantic's"

"I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendez"