Xxxii

Upon the top of all his loftie crest, A bunch of haires discolourd diversly, With sprincled pearle, and gold full richly drest, Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity, Like to an Almond tree ymounted hye On top of greene Selinis° all alone, With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; Whose tender locks do tremble every one At every little breath that under heaven is blowne.