For beautie is more glorious bright and clere,
The more it is admir’d of many a wight,
And noblest she, that serued is of noblest knight.
But this coy Damzell thought contrariwize, xxx
That such proud looks would make her praysed more;
And that the more she did all loue despize,
The more would wretched louers her adore.
What cared she, who sighed for her sore,
Or who did wayle or watch the wearie night?
Let them that list, their lucklesse lot deplore;