(The first mention of "Natercia.")
Flamed on the midway firmamental hill
The Shepherd genial-clear, what time 'gan stray
The Goats from greeny meads, and sought the way
To grateful freshness of a cooly rill.
Under the treën leaves and shadows chill
The Birds took shelter from the burning ray;
Their modulate psalmody they fain must stay
And air heard nothing save hoarse chirp of gryll.
When Shepherd Liso, lone on grass-grown lea,
Sought where his cruel Nymph, Natercia, wone'd,
Wailing with thousand weary sighs his lot;
"Why flee the lover who fares lost for thee
To one who loves thee not?" (This wise he moan'd);
And Echo answered (moaning) loves thee not.