Thomas Nashe,
National Ballad and Song
(1897)
“ Playe when he liste, and thrust he nere soe hard,poore patient Grissell lyeth at his ward,And giues and takes as blith and fresh as Maye,and ever meetes him in the middle of the waye.On her his eyes continually were fixt;with his eye-browes, her melting eyes were mixt,which, like the sunne, betwixt two glasses playes,from the one to the other casting rebounding rayes.She like a starr that, to requite his beames, [? reguild] suckes the influence of sweete Phebus streames,Imbathes the beames of his discending lightin the deepest fountaines of the purest light. ”
