How she me had reclaymed, And me to her retayned, Enbrasynge therwithall Her goodly[445] myddell small With sydes longe and streyte; To tell you what conceyte 1130 I had than in a tryce, The matter were to nyse, And yet there was no vyce, Nor yet no villany, But only fantasy; For this most goodly floure, This[446] blossom of fressh coloure, So Jupiter me succoure, She floryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew: 1140 _Hac claritate gemina_ _O gloriosa fœmina,_ _Iniquos odio habui!_ _Non calumnientur me superbi._ But whereto shulde I note How often dyd I tote Vpon her prety fote? It raysed myne hert rote To se her treade the grounde With heles short and rounde. 1150 She is playnly expresse Egeria, the goddesse, And lyke to her image, Emportured with corage, A louers pylgrimage; Ther is no beest sauage, Ne no tyger so wood, But she wolde chaunge his mood, Such relucent grace Is formed in her face; 1160 For this most goodly floure, This blossome of fresshe coloure, So Jupiter me succour, She flouryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew: _Hac claritate gemina_ _O gloriosa fœmina,_ _Mirabilia testimonia tua!_ _Sicut novellæ plantationes in juventute sua._ So goodly as she dresses, 1170 So properly[447] she presses The bryght golden tresses Of her heer so fyne, Lyke Phebus beames shyne. Wherto shuld I disclose The garterynge of her hose? It is for to suppose How that she can were Gorgiously her gere; Her fresshe habylementes 1180 With other implementes To serue for all ententes, Lyke dame Flora, quene Of lusty somer grene; For[448] this most goodly floure, This blossom of fressh coloure, So Jupiter me socoure, She florisheth new and new In beautye and vertew: _Hac claritate gemina_ 1190 _O gloriosa fœmina,_ _Clamavi in toto corde, exaudi me!_ _Misericordia tua magna est super me._ Her kyrtell so goodly lased, And vnder that is brased Such plasures that I may Neyther wryte nor say; Yet though I wryte not with ynke, No man can let me thynke, For thought hath lyberte, 1200 Thought is franke and fre; To thynke a mery thought It cost me lytell nor[449] nought. Wolde God myne homely style Were pullysshed with the fyle Of Ciceros eloquence, To prase her excellence! For this[450] most goodly floure, This[451] blossome of fressh coloure, So Jupiter me succoure, 1210 She flouryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew: _Hac claritate gemina_ _O gloriosa fœmina,_