Right so, full oft, it stands by Love;
Though thou desire it evermore
Thou shalt not have a whit the more,
But only what is meant for thee,
Of all the rest not worth a Pea.
And yet a long and endless Row
There be of Men who covet so
That whereas they a Woman see,
To ten or twelve though there may be,
The Love is now so little wise
That where the Beauty takes his Eyes
Anon the Man's whole Heart is there
And whispers Tales into her Ear,
And says on her his Love is set,
And thus he sets him to covet.
A hundred though he saw a day,
So would he have more than he may;
In each of them he finds somewhat
That pleaseth him, or this or that.
Some one, for she is white of skin,
Some one, for she is noble of kin,
Some one, for she hath a ruddy cheek,
Some one, for that she seemeth meek,
Some one, for that her eyes are gray,
Some one, for she can laugh and play,
Some one, for she is long and small,
Some one, for she is lithe and tall,
Some one, for she is pale and bleach,
Some one, for she is soft of speech,
Some one, for that her nose turns down,