Chapter I

O lady fair, whose honoured name doth grace
Green vale and noble ford of Rheno's stream--
Of all worth void the man I surely deem
Whom thy fair soul enamoureth not apace,
When softly self-revealed in outer space 5
By actions sweet with which thy will doth teem,
And gifts--Love's bow and shafts in their esteem
Who tend the flowers one day shall crown thy race.
When thou dost lightsome talk or gladsome sing,--
A power to draw the hill-trees, rooted hard-- 10
The doors of eyes and ears let that man keep,
Who knows himself unworthy thy regard.
Grace from above alone him help can bring,
That passion in his heart strike not too deep.