My girls presence makes the roses red,
Because to see her lips they blush for shame.
The lily's leaves, which she can not breath,
not for envy, just pale she became,
And her white hands in them this envy bred.
The marigold the leaves abroad doth spread,
Because the sun's and her power is the same.
The violet of purple color came.
Stained in the blood she makes my heart to shed.
In brief: all flowers from her their virtue take;
From her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed;
The living heat which her green eye gaze make
Warmth the ground and quickened the seed.
The rain, wherewith she watereth the flowers,
Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers.
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