See how the Rainbow in the skie Seems gaudy through the Suns bright eye; Harke how an Eccho answere makes, Feele how a board is smooth’d with waxe, S… - William Strode

What thing is that, nor felt nor seene
Till it bee given? a present for a Queene:
A fine conceite to give and take the like:
The giver yet is farther for to seeke;
The taker doth possesse nothing the more,
The giver hee hath nothing lesse in store:
And given once that nature hath it still,
You cannot keepe or leave it if you will:
The workmanshippe is counted very small,
The labour is esteemèd naught at all:
But to conclude, this gift is such indeede,
That, if some see’t twill make theyr hearts to bleede.

I saw faire Cloris walke alone
Where feather’d rayne came softly downe,
And Jove descended from his tower
To court her in a silver shower;
The wanton snowe flewe to her breast
Like little birds into their nest,
And overcome with whiteness there
For griefe it thaw’d into a teare,
Thence falling on her garment’s hemme
For greife it freez’d into a gemme.

Here silken twynes, there locks you see—
Now tell me which the softer bee?