For as the cristal glorious ye shyne,
And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde.
5
Therwith ye ben so mery and so iocounde,
That at a revel whan that I see you daunce,
It is an oynement unto my wounde,
Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.
For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne,
10
Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde;