Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place

For take thy balance if thou be so wise And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow; Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise; Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.

Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.

Woe never wants, where every cause is caught, and rash Occasion makes unquiet life.

Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.