That earely leaue doth take
Of th' world though to his payne
For virtues onely sake
And not till need constrayne.
Noe man can be so free
Though in imperiall seate
Nor Eminent as he
40That deemeth nothing greate.
Ode 8
Singe wee the Rose
Then which no flower there growes
Is sweeter:
And aptly her compare
With what in that is rare
A parallel none meeter.
Or made poses,
Of this that incloses
Suche blisses,
10That naturally flusheth
As she blusheth
When she is robd of kisses.
Or if strew'd
When with the morning dew'd
Or stilling,
Or howe to sense expos'd
All which in her inclos'd,
Ech place with sweetnes filling.
That most renown'd
20By Nature richly crownd
With yellow,
Of that delitious layre
And as pure, her hayre
Vnto the same the fellowe,
Fearing of harme
Nature that flower doth arme
From danger,
The touch giues her offence
But with reuerence
30Vnto her selfe a stranger.
That redde, or white,
Or mixt, the sence delyte
Behoulding,
In her complexion
All which perfection
Such harmony infouldinge.
That deuyded
Ere it was descided
Which most pure,
40Began the greeuous war
Of York and Lancaster,
That did many yeeres indure.