Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot, That living creature mote it not abide; And his new lady it endured not. There they alight, in hope themsel… - Edmund Spenser

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Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot,
That living creature mote it not abide;
And his new lady it endured not.
There they alight, in hope themselves to hide 260
From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. XXX Faire seemely pleasaunce each to other makes,
With goodly purposes, there as they sit:
And in his falsed fancy he her takes
To be the fairest wight that lived yit; 265
Which to expresse, he bends his gentle wit,
And thinking of those braunches greene to frame
A girlond for her dainty forehead fit,
He pluckt a bough; out of whose rifte there came
Smal drops of gory bloud, that trickled down the same. 270 XXXI Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard,
Crying, ‘O spare with guilty hands to teare
My tender sides in this rough rynd embard;
But fly, ah! fly far hence away, for feare