Fidessa more chaste then kinde. By B. Griffin |
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SONNET. XXXXIX.
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 | Fidessa |  |
SONNET. XXXXIX.
[My Ladies haire is threeds of beaten gold]
My Ladies haire is threeds of beaten gold,Her front the purest Christall eye hath seene:
Her eyes the brightest starres the heauens hold,
Her cheekes red Roses, such as seld haue been:
Her pretie lips of red vermilion dye,
Her hand of yuorie the purest white:
Her blush Aurora, or the morning skye,
Her breast displaies two siluer fountaines bright,
The Spheares her voyce, her grace the Graces three,
Her bodie is the Saint that I adore,
Her smiles and fauours sweet as honey bee,
Her feete faire Thetis praiseth euermore.
But ah the worst and last is yet behind,
For of a Gryphon she doth beare the mind.
| Fidessa | |