EDMUND SPENSER

So. A T>itty

In praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds

SEE where she sits upon the grassie greene, (O seemely sight!) Yclad in Scarlot, like a mayden Queene,

And ermines white : Upon her head a Cremosin coronet With Damaske roses and Daffadillies set: Bay leaves betweene, And primroses greene, Embellish the sweete Violet.

Tell me, have ye scene her angelick face

Like Phoebe fay re ? Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace,

Can you well compare ?

The Redde rose medled with the White yfere, In either cheeke depeincten lively chere :

Her modest eye,

Her Majestic, Where have you scene the like but there ?

I see Calliope speede her to the place,

Where my Goddesse shines ; And after her the other Muses trace

With their Violines.

Bene they not Bay braunches which they do beare, All for Elisa in her hand to weare?

So sweetely they play,

And sing all tjhe way,

That it a heaven is to heare.

medled] mixed. yfere] together.

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