114 THE SHAKESPEARE GARDEN 



And never hath her beauty seen 

 But through a veil of white. 



GORBO 

 Thou well describst the daffodil; 



It is not full an hour 

 Since by the spring, near yonder hill, 



I saw that lovely flower. 



BATTE 

 Yet my fair flower thou didst not meet, 



No news of her didst bring; 

 And yet my Daffodil 's more sweet 



Than that by yonder spring. 



GORBO 

 I saw a shepherd that doth keep 



In yonder field of lilies 

 Was making (as he fed his sheep) 



A wreath of daffodillies. 



BATTE 

 Yet, Gorbo, thou deludst me still, 



My flower thou didst not see; 

 For know my pretty Daffodil 



Is worn of none but me. 



To show itself but near her feet 



No lily is so bold, 

 Except to shade her from the heat, 



Or keep her from the cold. 



GORBO 



Through yonder vale as I did pass 

 Descending from the hill, 



