University of Virginia Library



[VII. I Alwaies lou'd to call my Lady Rose]

I alwaieslou'd for to call my Lady Rose,
For in her cheeks Roses doe sweetly glose,
And from her lips, she such sweet odours threw,
as Roses doe gainst Phœbus morning view,
But when I thought to pul't, Hope was bereft me,
My Rose was gone, and naught but prickles me.