25
By your nature anon, right for pure drede
Of the rude night, that with his boystous wede
Of derkness shadoweth our emispere,
Than closen ye, my lyves lady dere!
Dawing the day to his kinde resort,
30
Phebus your fader, with his stremes rede,
Adorneth the morow, cónsuming the sort
Of misty cloudës, that wolde overlede