- description
- # II. 811—834
## Overview
This is a section (II. 811—834) extracted from a text file, representing a portion of the poem *Venus and Adonis*. It spans lines 2599-2633 of the source file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). The section was extracted on January 30, 2026, by the `structure-extraction-lambda` process.
## Context
The section is part of the chapter "[VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY)" which is contained within a larger poetry collection. The text file it was extracted from is part of the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection, a network test. This section is preceded by section "11. 787—810" ([arke:01KG6S5KEMSDJFAK07DZQ0PHGM]) and followed by section "II. 835—858" ([arke:01KG6S5KEQ2DYZHSF4RNFQZKH8]).
## Contents
This section of *Venus and Adonis* (lines 811-834) describes Venus lamenting and singing a sorrowful song about love's effects on young and old. The passage also depicts the morning with a lark waking the morning and the sun rising.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T06:25:42.078Z
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- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- II. 811—834
- end_line
- 2633
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.803Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2599
- text
- II. 811—834
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# VENVS AND ADONIS.
She marking them, begins a wailing note,
And sings extemporally a wofull dittie,
How loue makes yong-men thrall, & old men dote,
How loue is wise in follie, foolish wittie:
Her heauie antheme still concludes in wo,
And still the quier of ecchoes answer fo.
Her song was tedious, and out-wore the night,
For louers houres are long, though seeming short,
If pleased them selues, others they thinke delight,
In such like circumstance, with such like sport:
Their copious stories oftentimes begunne,
End without audience, and are neuer donne.
For who hath she to spend the night withall,
But idle sounds resembling parasits?
Like shrill-tongued Tapsters answering euerie call,
Soothing the humor of fantastique wits,
She sayes tis fo, they answer all tis fo,
And would say after her, if she said no.
Lohere the gentle larke wearie of rest,
From his moyst cabinet mounts vp on hie,
And wakes the morning, from whose siluer brest,
The sunne ariseth in his maiestie,
Who doth the world so gloriously behold,
That Ceader tops and hils, seeme burnisht gold.
Venus
- title
- II. 811—834