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Her fair and coloured cheeks,
now pale and wane her eyes,
That late did ſhine like chryſtal ſtars,
alas! their light nowdies.
Her pritty lilly hands,
with fingers long and ſmall,
In colour like the early dew,
yea, cold and ſtiff with all.
When, as the morning gay,
her golden gates had ſpread.
And that the glittering Sun aroſe,
Forth from Thetia's bed;
Then did my love awake,
moſt like the lilly flower,
And as the lovely Queen of may,
ſo ſhone ſhe in her bower.
attired was ſhe then,
like Flora in her bower.
For as any of Diana's nymphs,
ſo lookd’ my lovely flower.
