And wooed him her Paramoure to be;
Now making girlonds of each flowre that grew,
To crowne his golden lockes with honour dew;
Now leading him into a secret shade
From his Beauperes, and from bright heauens vew,
Where him to sleepe she gently would perswade,
Or bathe him in a fountaine by some couert glade.
And whilst he slept, she ouer him would spred xxxvi
Her mantle, colour’d like the starry skyes,
And her soft arme lay vnderneath his hed,