Upon a great adventure he was bond,

That greatest Gloriana to him gave,

(That greatest glorious queene of faery lond)
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have,
Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave.
And ever, as he rode, his hart did earne
To prove his puissance in battell brave

Upon his foe, and his new force to learne;
Upon his foe, a dragon horrible and stearne.

A lovely ladie rode him faire beside,

Upon a lowly asse more white then snow; Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide Under a vele, that wimpled was full low; And over all a blacke stole shee did throw, As one that inly mournd: so was she sad, And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow; Seemed in heart some hidden care she had; And by her in a line a milke-white lambe she lad.

So

pure and innocent, as that same lambe, She was in life and every vertuous lore,

And by descent from royall lynage came

Of ancient kinges and queenes, that had of yore Their scepters stretcht from east to westerne shore, And all the world in their subjection held;

Till that infernall feend with foule

uprore

Forwasted all their land, and them expeld;

Whom to avenge, she had this knight from far compeld.

Behind her farre away a dwarfe did lag,

That lasie seemd in being ever last,

Or wearied with bearing of her bag

Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past,
The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast,
And angry Jove an hideous storme of raine

Did

poure into his lemans lap so fast,

That everie wight to shrowd it did constraine; And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.

Enforst to seek some covert nigh at hand,

A shadie grove not farr away they spide,
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand;
Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride,
Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide,
Not perceable with power of any starr:

And all within were pathes and alleies wide,
With footing worne, and leading inward farre :
Faire harbour that them seems, so in they entred arre.

And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,
Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,

Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred, Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy, The sayling pine, the cedar proud and tall, The vine-propp elme, the poplar never dry, The builder oake, sole king of forrests all, The aspine good for staves, the cypresse funerall,

The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours
And poets sage, the firre that weepeth still,
The willow worne of forlorne paramours,
The eugh obedient to the benders will,
The birch for shaftes, the sallow for the mill,
The mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound,
The warlike beech, the ash for nothing ill,
The fruitfull olive, and the platane round,
The carver holme, the maple seeldom inward sound.

Led with delight they thus beguile the way,
Untill the blustring storme is overblowne;

When weening to return, whence they did stray,
They cannot find that path, which first was showne,
But wander too and fro in waies unknowne,
Furthest from end then, when they nearest weene,
That makes them doubt their wits be not their owne:
So many pathes, so many turnings seene,

That which of them to take in diverse doubt they been.