And greate balas[8] lemyng[9] as the fire;
With many an emerald and fair sapphire,
And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue,
Of plumes parted red, and white, and blue.

* * * * *

XXIX.

About her neck, white as the fair amaille,[10]
A goodly chain of small orfeverie,[11]
Whereby there hang a ruby without fail
Like to a heart yshapen verily,
That as a spark of lowe[12] so wantonly
Seemed burning upon her white throat;
Now if there was good, perdie God it wrote.

XXX.

And for to walk that freshe Maye's morrow,
A hook she had upon her tissue white,
That goodlier had not been seen toforrow,[13]
As I suppose, and girt she, was a lite[14]
Thus halfling[15] loose for haste; to such delight
It was to see her youth in goodlihead,
That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread.

XXXI.

In her was youth, beauty with humble port,