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She whose fair flow'rs no autumn makes decay,
She whose fair flow'rs no autumn makes decay,
Whose hue ce]estial, earthly hues doth stain,
Into a pleasant odoriferous plain
Did walk alone, to brave the pride of May;
And whilst through checker'd lists she made her way,
Which smil'd about her sight to entertain,
Lo, unawares, where Love did bid remain,
She spied, and sought to make of him her prey;
For which, of golden locks a fairest hair,
To bind the boy, she took; but he, afraid
At her approach, sprang swiftly in the air,
And mounting far from reach, look'd back and said,
Why shouldst thou, sweet, me seek in chains to bind,
Sith in thine eyes I daily am confin'd?

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