For all that Nature by her mother-wit Could frame in earth. - Edmund Spenser

Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone,
Whom if ye please, I care for other none.

Hark, how the cheerful birds do chaunt their lays, and carol of love's praise.

"His Lady sad to see his sore constraint,
Cried out, "Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee,
Add faith unto your force, and be not faint:
Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee."
That when he heard, in great perplexitie,
His gall did grate for griefe and high distaine,
And knitting all his force got one hand free,
Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine,
That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine."