Her golden locks for haste were loosely shed
About her eares, when Una her did marke
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred;
From heaven high to chase the chearelesse darke,
With merry note her loud salutes the mounting larke.
LII
Then freshly up arose the doughtie knight,
All healed of his hurts and woundes wide,
And did himselfe to battell ready dight;