| FAIR was the morn
when the fair queen of love, * * * * * * * |
|
| Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove, | |
| For Adon’s sake, a youngster proud and wild; | |
| Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill: | |
| Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds; | 5 |
| She, silly queen, with more than love’s good will, | |
| Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds: | |
| ‘Once,’ quoth she, ‘did I see a fair sweet youth | |
| Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar, | |
| Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth! | 10 |
| See, in my thigh,’ quoth she, ‘here was the sore. | |
| She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one, | |
| And blushing fled, and left her all alone. |