Rosaline

LIKE to the clear in highest sphere
   Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
   Whether unfolded or in twines:
   Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
   Resembling heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow,
   And I do tremble when I think
   Heigh ho, would she were mine!

Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
   That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
   That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace.
   Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her lips are like two budded roses
   Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within whose bounds she balm encloses
   Apt to entice a deity:

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poem by Thomas Lodge
Added by Poetry Lover
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