Of gold all burnished

Of gold all burnished, brighter than sunbeams
Were those curled locks upon her noble head
Whose deep conceits my true deserving fled
Wherefore mine eyes such store of tears outstreams
Her eyes, fair stars ; her red, like damask rose ;
White, silver shine of moon on crystal stream ;
Her beauty perfect, whereon fanciеs dream
Her lips are rubiеs ; teeth, of pearls two rows
Her breath more sweet than perfect amber is ;
Her years in prime ; and nothing doth she want
That might draw gods from heaven to further bliss
Of all things perfect this I most complain
Her heart is rock, made all of adamant
Gifts all delight, this last doth only pain