Her face, the fairest face that eye might see,
She likewise did deform, like him to be.
Her yellow locks that shone so bright and long,
As sunny beams in fairest summer's day;
She fiercely tore: and with outrageous wrong,
From her red cheeks, the roses rent away.
And her fair breast, the treasury of joy;
She spoiled thereof, and fillèd with annoy.
His pallid face, impicturèd with death;