That lovely girl, who's now a lady's mien.
Then, when the sun ariseth all aglow,
I trace the wonted show
Of amorous fire, in some fine heart made queen...
When leaves or boughs or violets on earth
I see, what time the winter's cold decays,
And when the kindly stars are gathering might,
Mine eye that violet and green portrays
(And nothing else) which, at my warfare's birth,
Armed Love so well that yet he worsts me quite.