Cant. XII.
the Faerie Queene.
177
Then forth he called that his daughter fayre,The fairest Vn' his onely daughter deare,His onely daughter, and his only hayre;Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare,As bright as doth the morning starre appeareOut of the East, with flaming lockes bedight,To tell that dawning day is drawing neare,And to the world does bring long wished light;So faire and fresh that Lady shewd her selfe in sight.
So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May;For she had layd her mournefull stole aside,And widow-like sad wimple throwne away,Wherewith her heauenly beautie she did hide,Whiles on her wearie iourney she did ride;And on her now a garment she did weare,All lilly white, withoutten spot, or pride,That seemd like silke and siluer wouen neare,But neither silke nor siluer therein did appeare.
The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame,And glorious light of her sunshyny faceTo tell, were as to striue against the streame,My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace,Her heauenly lineaments for to enchace.Ne wonder; for her own deare loued knight,All were she daily with himselfe in place,Did wonder much at her celestiall sight:Oft had he seene her faire, but neuer so faire dight.
So fairely dight, when she in presence came,She to her Syre made humble reuerence,And bowed low, that her right well became,And added grace vnto her excellence:
Who
