[R2r]
Tell me ô haire of gold, If I then faultie be: That trust those killing eyes I would, (20) Since they did warrant me? Haue you not seene her moode, What streames of teares she spent: Till that I sware my faith so stoode, As her words had it bent?
(25) Who hath such beautie seene, In one that changeth so? Or where one loues, so constant beene, Who euer saw such woe? Ah haires, you are not greeu’d, (30) To come from whence you be: Seeing how once you saw I liu’d, To see me as you see.
On sandie banke of late, I saw this woman sit: (35) Where, Sooner die then change my state, She with her finger writ. Thus my beleefe was stay’d, Behold Loues mighty hand On things, were by a woman say’d, (40) And written in the sand.
Translated by S. Phil. Sidney, out of Diana
of Montmaior.
¶ A Song betweene Taurisius and Diana, aunswering verse
for verse. +
Taurisius. T He cause why that thou doo’st denie To looke on me, sweete foe impart?
Diana. Because that dooth not please the eye. Which dooth offend and greeue the hart.