ON quicksedge wrought with lovely eglantine,
My LAURA laid her handkercher to dry;
Which had before snow-white ywashed been.
But after, when she called to memory,
That long 'twould be before, and very late,
Ere sun could do, as would her glistering eyes:
She cast from them such sparkling glances straight,
And with such force, in such a strangy guise,
As suddenly, and in one selfsame time,
She dried her cloth; but burnt this heart of mine.