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I call, I call: who do ye call? The maids to catch this cowslip ball: But since these cowslips fading be, Troth, leave the flowers, and, maids, take me. Yet, if that neither you will do, Speak but the word and I'll take you.

You say you're sweet; how should we know Whether that you be sweet or no? From powders and perfumes keep free, Then we shall smell how sweet you be.

What's that we see from far? the spring of day Bloom'd from the east, or fair enjewell'd May Blown out of April, or some new Star filled with glory to our view, Reaching at heaven, To add a nobler planet to the seven? Say, or do we not descry Some goddess in a cloud of tiffany To move, or rather the Emergent Venus from the sea?