Vpon the grassie ground, to sleepe a throw;
The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his pillow.
But gentle Sleepe enuyde him any rest; liv
In stead thereof sad sorrow, and disdaine
Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest,
And thousand fancies bet his idle braine
With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine:
Oft did he wish, that Lady faire mote bee
His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine:
Or that his Faery Queene were such, as shee: