"Fyrst was her skyn,
Whith, smoth, and thyn,
And every vayne
So blewe sene playne;
Her golden heare
To see her weare,
Her werying gere,
Alas! I fere
To tell all to you
I shall undo you.

"Her eye so rollyng,
Ech harte conterollyng;
Her nose not long,
Nor stode not wrong;
Her finger typs
So clene she clyps;
Her rosy lyps,
Her chekes gossyps,"

&c. &c.

_S.S. Papers_, vol. i. p. 72

"Ir mündlin rott
Uss senender nott
Mir helffen kan,
Das mir kain man
Mit nichten kan püssen.