Pearles, rubies, saphires and the rest,
Of precious caskets, what’s your praise
When the diamond shows his rayes?
Ye warblinge chanters of the wood,
That fill the eares with nature’s laies,
Thinkinge your passions understood
By weaker accents, what’s your praise
When Philomell her voice doth raise?
Soe when my princesse shall bee seene,
In sweetness of her lookes and mynde,