11EVEN as the sunne with purple-colourd face,

2Had tane his last leaue of the weeping morne,

3Rose-cheekt Adonis hied him to the chace,

4Hunting he lou'd, but loue he laught to scorne:

5 Sick-thoughted Venus makes amaine vnto him,

6 And like a bold fac'd suter ginnes to woo him.

27Thrise fairer then my selfe, (thus she began)

8The fields chiefe flower, sweet aboue compare,

9Staine to all Nimphs, more louely then a man,

10More white, and red, then doues, or roses are:

11 Nature that made thee with her selfe at strife,

12 Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.

313Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed,

14And raine his proud head to the saddle bow,

15If thou wilt daine this fauor, for thy meed

16A thousand honie secrets shalt thou know:

17 Here come and sit, where neuer serpent hisses,

18 And being set, Ile smother thee with kisses.