1710
Ne dorste I to the rose bede,
For thistels sharpe, of many maneres,
Netles, thornes, and hoked breres;
[Ful] muche they distourbled me,
For sore I dradde to harmed be.
1715
The God of Love, with bowe bent,
That al day set hadde his talent
To pursuen and to spyen me,