Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE UNKNOWN SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT, by RICHARD BARNFIELD



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THE UNKNOWN SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: My flocks feede not, my ewes breede not
Last Line: Other helpe for him, I see that there is none.
Alternate Author Name(s): Barnefield, Richard
Subject(s): Shepherds & Shepherdesses


My Flocks feede not, my Ewes breede not,
My Rammes speede not, all is amisse:
Love is denying, Faith is defying,
Harts renying, causer of this.
All my merry Iiggs are quite forgot,
All my Ladies love is lost God wot.
Where her faith was firmely fixt in love.
There a nay is plac'd without remove.
One silly crosse, wrought all my losse,
O frowning Fortune, cursed fickle Dame:
For now I see, inconstancie
More in women then in men remaine.

In black mourne I, all feares scorne I,
Love hath forlorne me, living in thrall:
Hart is bleeding, all helpe needing,
O cruell speeding, fraughted with gall.
My Sheepheards pipe can sound no deale,
My Weathers bell rings dolefull knell.
My curtaile dogge that wont to have plaide,
Playes not at all, but seemes afraide.
With sighs so deepe, procures to weepe,
In howling-wise, to see my dolefull plight:
How sighs resound, through hartlesse ground,
Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight.

Cleare Wells spring not, sweet birds sing not,
Greene plants bring not foorth their die:
Heards stand weeping, Flocks all sleeping,
Nimphs back peeping fearefully.
All our pleasure knowne to us poore Swaines,
All our merry meeting on the Plaines.
All our evening sports from us are fled,
All our love is lost, for Love is dead.
Farewell sweete Love, thy like nere was,
For sweete content, the cause of all my moane:
Poore Coridon must live alone,
Other helpe for him, I see that there is none.





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