Discover, with its store of wish and woe;
Then it with others in a wreath I lay,
Bound with my hair so golden-bright of blee.
Ay, and that pleasure which the eye doth prove,
By nature, of the flower’s view, like delight
Doth give me as I saw the very wight
Who hath inflamed me of his dulcet love,
And what its scent thereover and above
Worketh in me, no words indeed can say;
But sighs thereof bear witness true for me,