16
SONG
I love my lady’s eyes
Above the beauties rare
She most is wont to prize,
Above her sunny hair,
And all that face to face
Her glass repeats of grace.
For those are still the same
To her and all that see:
I love my lady’s eyes
Above the beauties rare
She most is wont to prize,
Above her sunny hair,
And all that face to face
Her glass repeats of grace.
For those are still the same
To her and all that see: