Looke when dame
Tellus
clad in
Floras
pride,
Her summer vaile with faire imbroderie,
And fragrant hearbs sweet blossom'd hauing dide.
And spred abrode her spangled tapistrie:
Then shalt thou see a thousand of her flowers
(For their faire hew and life delighting sauours)
Gathered to deck and beautifie the bowers
Of Ladies faire, grac'd with their louers fauours.
But when rough winter nips them with his rage,
They are disdain'd and not at all respected:
Then loue (
Emaricdulf
) in thy yong age,
Lest being old, like flowers thou be reiected:
Nature made nothing that doth euer flourish,
And euen as beautie fades, so loue doth perish.