For al this world, in swich present gladnesse
1245
Was Troilus, and hath his lady swete;
With worse hap god lat us never mete!
179. Hir armes smale, hir streyghte bak and softe,
Hir sydes longe, fleshly, smothe, and whyte
He gan to stroke, and [good thrift bad ful ofte]
1250
Hir snowish throte, hir brestes rounde and lyte;
Thus in this hevene he gan him to delyte,