Gold all is not that doth golden seem.

Greatest god below the sky.

All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.

Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.

Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.

There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one time: For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime, And eke attonce the heavy trees they climb, Which seem to labour under their fruits load: The whiles the joyous birds make their pastime Amongst the shady leaves, their sweet above, And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.

All for love, and nothing for reward.