A PRAISE OF HIS LADY GIVE place, you ladies, and begone! The virtue of her lively looks. I wish to have none other books In each of her two crystal eyes It would you all in heart suffice I think Nature hath lost the mould So fair a creature make. She may be well compared Unto the Phoenix kind, Whose like was never seen or heard, 8 12 16 20 33 28 24 In life she is Diana chaste, In troth Penelopey ; In word and eke in deed steadfast, If all the world were sought so far, Her roseal colour comes and goes With such a comely grace, More ruddier, too, than doth the rose, At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet, Ne at no wanton play, Nor gazing in an open street, Nor gadding as a stray. The modest mirth that she doth use Is mix'd with shamefastness; All vice she doth wholly refuse, And hateth idleness. O Lord! it is a world to see Whom Nature made so fair. Truly she doth as far exceed 44 40 36 48 1557 As doth the jeliflower a weed; How might I do to get a graff -For all the rest are plain but chaff, This gift alone I shall her give; John Heywood. "AND WILT THOU LEAVE ME THUS" AND wilt thou leave me thus? And wilt thou leave me thus, 12 56 52 |