Thys dulcet water in foure partyes dyd spout.
Of whyche there flowed foure ryvers ryght clere,
Sweter than Nysus or Ganges was theyr odoure,
Tygrys or Eufrates unto them no pere.
I dyd than taste the aromatyke lycoure,
Fragraunt of fume, swete as any floure.
And in my mouthe it had a marveylous cent
Of divers spyces; I knewe not what it ment.
And after thys farther forth me brought
Dame Countenaunce into a goodly hall: