(5) She’s in a frock of Lincolne-greene, The colour Maydes delight, +And neuer hath her Beauty seene But through a vayle of white.
Then Roses richer to behold, (10) That dresse vp Louers Bowers, The Pansie and the Marigold Are Phœbus + Paramours.
Thou well describ’st the Daffadill, It is not full an hower (15) Since by the Spring neere yonder hill I saw that louely flower.
Yet with my flower thou did’st not meete, Not newes of her doest bring, Yet is my Daffadill more sweete (20) Then that by yonder Spring.
I saw a Shepheard that doth keepe In yonder field of Lillies, Was making (as he fed his sheepe) A wreath of Daffadillies.
(25) Yet Gorbo: thou delud’st me still, My flower thou did’st not see. For know; my pretty Daffadill Is worne of none but mee.