SAY, crimson Rose and dainty Daffodil,
With Violet blue;
Since you have seen the beauty of my saint,
And eke her view;
Did not her sight (fair sight!) you lonely fill,
With sweet delight
Of goddess' grace and angels' sacred teint
In fine, most bright?
Say, golden Primrose, sanguine Cowslip fair,
With Pink most fine;
Since you beheld the visage of my dear,
And eyes divine;
Did not her globy front, and glistering hair, ...