That heaven's glory in that face seemed truest.
Venus, excepted when the god her wooed,
Was ne'er so fair! so tempting, yet so good!
Wonder not, mortals, though the Poets feign!
The Muses' graces were in this She's favour:
Nor wonder, though She strove his tongue to gain!
For I lose mine, in thinking of his labour.
"Well may he love," I write, "and all Wits praise her,
She's so all humble, Learning cannot raise her!"
Daiphantus oft sighed: "Oh!" oft said "Fair!"