The laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare,
    gives me great hope of your relenting mynd:
    for since it is the badg which I doe beare,
    ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind:
The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find,
    let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire
    with sweet infusion, and put you in mind
    of that proud mayd, whom now those leaves attyre:
Proud Daphne scorning Phæbus lovely fyre,
    on the Thessalian shore from him did flie:
    for which the gods in theyr revengefull yre
    did her transforme into a laurell tree.
Then fly no more fayre love from Phebus chace,
    but in your brest his leafe and love embrace.