THE KING THUS DESCRIBES THE APPEARANCE OF HIS MISTRESS, WHEN HE FIRST SAW HER FROM A WINDOW OF HIS PRISON AT WINDSOR. X. The longe dayes and the nightes eke, I would bewail my fortune in this wise, For which, against distress comfort to seek, My custom was, on mornes, for to rise Early as day: O happy exercise! By thee came I to joy out of torment; But now to purpose of my first intent. XI. Bewailing in my chamber, thus alone, Despaired of all joy and remedy, For-tired of my thought, and woe begone; And to the window 'gan I walk in hye,[1] To see the world and folk that went forby; As for the time (though I of mirthis food Might have no more) to look it did me good. XII. Now was there made fast by the toweris wall A garden fair; and in the corners set An herbere[2] green; with wandis long and small Railed about, and so with trees set Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet, That life was none [a] walking there forby That might within scarce any wight espy. * * * * * XIV. And on the smalle greene twistis [3] sat The little sweete nightingale, and sung, So loud and clear the hymnis consecrate Of love's use, now soft, now loud among,[4] That all the gardens and the wallis rung Right of their song; and on the couple next Of their sweet harmony, and lo the text. XV. Worship, O ye that lovers be, this May! For of your bliss the calends are begun; And sing with us, 'Away! winter, away! Come, summer, come, the sweet season and sun; Awake for shame that have your heavens won; And amorously lift up your heades all, Thank love that list you to his mercy call. * * * * * XXI. And therewith cast I down mine eye again, Where as I saw walking under the tower, Full secretly new comen to her pleyne,[5] The fairest and the freshest younge flower That e'er I saw (methought) before that hour For which sudden abate [6] anon astert [7] The blood of all my body to my heart. * * * * * XXVII. Of her array the form if I shall write, Toward her golden hair, and rich attire, In fret-wise couched with pearlis white, And greate balas[8] lemyng[9] as the fire; With many an emerald and fair sapphire, And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue, Of plumes parted red, and white, and blue. * * * * * XXIX. About her neck, white as the fair amaille,[10] A goodly chain of small orfeverie,[11] Whereby there hang a ruby without fail Like to a heart yshapen verily, That as a spark of lowe[12] so wantonly Seemed burning upon her white throat; Now if there was good, perdie God it wrote. XXX. And for to walk that freshe Maye's morrow, A hook she had upon her tissue white, That goodlier had not been seen toforrow,[13] As I suppose, and girt she, was a lite[14] Thus halfling[15] loose for haste; to such delight It was to see her youth in goodlihead, That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread. XXXI.