Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis
By Thyrsis sit, hard by a fount of Chrystal,
And with her hand more white than snow or lilies,
On sand she wrote “My faith shall be immortal”:
And suddenly a storm of wind and weather
Blew all her faith and sand away together.
Anon.
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and infirm,