Esperus, the goodly brighte sterre,
So glad, so fair, so persaunt eek of chere,
I mene Venus, with her bemes clere,
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That, hevy hertes only to releve,
Is wont, of custom, for to shewe at eve.
And I, as faste, fel doun on my knee
And even thus to her gan I to preye:—
'O lady Venus! so faire upon to see,
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