...he makes So loud a noyse that all the hilles and waters therabout Myght easly heere the shirlnesse of the shepeherds whistling out. I lying underneathe the rocke, and leaning in the lappe Of Acis markt theis woordes of his which farre I heard by happe: More whyght thou art then Primrose leaf, my Lady Galatee. More fresh than meade, more tall and streyght than lofty Aldertree. More bright ...