10
And ever standen, lady, in thy presence,
To shewe in open how I love you wele;
And sith, although your herte be mad of stele,
To you, withoute any disseveraunce,
J'ay en vous toute ma fiaunce.
15
Wher might I love ever better besette
Than in this lilie, lyking to beholde?
The lace of love, the bond so wel thou knette,