No tree, whose braunches did not brauely spring; xiii No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sit: No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetly sing; No song but did containe a louely dit: Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fit, For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease. Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake wit Was ouercome of thing, that did him please; So pleased, did his wrathfull purpose faire appease. Thus when she had his eyes and senses fed xiv With false delights, and fild with pleasures vaine, Into a shadie dale she soft him led, And laid him downe vpon a grassie plaine; And her sweet selfe without dread, or disdaine, She set beside, laying his head disarm’d In her loose lap, it softly to sustaine, Where soone he slumbred, fearing not be harm’d, The whiles with a loud[622] lay she thus him sweetly charm’d. Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take,[623] xv The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant growes, How they themselues doe thine ensample make, Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes Out of her fruitfull lap; how, no man[624] knowes, They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire, And deck the world with their rich pompous showes; Yet no man for them taketh paines or care, Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare. The lilly, Ladie of the flowring field, xvi The Flowre-deluce, her louely Paramoure, Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labours yield, And soone leaue off this toylesome wearie stoure; Loe loe how braue she decks her bounteous boure, With silken curtens and gold couerlets, Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure, Yet neither spinnes nor cardes, ne cares nor frets, But to her mother Nature all her care she lets. Why then dost thou, O man, that of them all xvii Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine, Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall, And wast thy ioyous houres in needlesse paine, Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine? What bootes it all to haue, and nothing vse? Who shall him rew, that swimming in the maine, Will die for thirst[625], and water doth refuse? Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse. By this she had him lulled fast a sleepe, xviii That of no worldly[626] thing he care did take; Then she with liquors strong his eyes did steepe, That nothing should him hastily awake: So she him left, and did her selfe betake Vnto her boat againe, with which she cleft The slouthfull waue[627] of that great griesly[628] lake; Soone she that Island farre behind her left, And now is come to that same place, where first she weft.