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WHat guyle is
this, that those her golden tresses,
She doth attyre
vnder a net of gold:
and with sly skill so cunningly
them dresses,
that which is gold or heare, may
scarse be told?
Is it that mens frayle eyes, which
gaze too bold,
she may entangle in that golden
snare:
and being caught may craftily enfold,
theyr weaker harts, which are not wel aware?
Take
heed therefore, myne eyes, how ye doe stare
henceforth too rashly on that guilefull net,
in
which is euer ye entrapped are,
out of her bands ye
by no meanes shall get.
Fondnesse it were for any
being free,
to couet fetters, though they golden
bee.
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