I would in rich and golden-coloured rain,
With tempting showers in pleasant sort descend
Into fair Phillis' lap, my lovely friend,
When sleep her sense with slumber doth restrain.
I would be changèd to a milk-white bull,
When midst the gladsome field she should appear,
By pleasant fineness to surprise my dear,
Whilst from their stalks, she pleasant flowers did pull.
I were content to weary out my pain,
To be Narcissus so she were a spring,
To drown in her those woes my heart do wring,
And more; I wish transformèd to remain,
That whilst I thus in pleasure's lap did lie,
I might refresh desire, which else would die.