And all her here, it shoon as gold so fyne,
Dishevel, crisp, down hinging at her bak
140
A yarde in length: and soothly than I spak:—
'O bright Regina, who made thee so fair?
Who made thy colour vermelet and white?
Where woneth that god? how fer above the eyr?
Greet was his craft, and greet was his delyt.
145
Now marvel I nothing that ye do hight