In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.
All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.