85FAire is my loue, but not
so faire as fickle.
¶Milde as a Doue, but neither true nor tru
stie,
¶Brighter then gla
sse, and yet as gla
sse is brittle,
¶Softer then waxe, and yet as Iron ru
sty:
¶_A lilly pale, with dama
ske die to grace her,
90_None fairer, nor none fal
ser to deface her.
¶Her lips to mine how often hath
she ioyned,
¶Betweene each ki
sse her othes of true loue
swearing:
¶How many tales to plea
se me hath
she coyned,
¶Dreading my loue, the lo
sse whereof
still fearing.
95_Yet in the mids of all her pure prote
stings,
¶_Her faith, her othes, her teares, and all were iea
stings.
¶She burnt with loue, as
straw with fire flameth,
¶She burnt out loue, as
soone as
straw out burneth:
¶She fram d the loue, and yet
she foyld the framing,
100She bad loue la
st, and yet
she fell a turning.
¶_Was this a louer, or a Letcher whether?
¶_Bad in the be
st, though excellent in neither.