SOE blithe am I when I a rose doe smell; Soe full of bliss when I my Ladye see; Of twayne one onlye soothes the heart of me: Soe blithe am I when I a rose doe smell. Sweet is the scent; whereas her sighte doth quell My heart soe that myne eyes ashaméd be: Soe blithe am I when I a rose doe smell, Soe full of bliss when I my Ladye see. |