…And in his falsed fancy he her takes

To be the fairest wight, that lived yit;

Which to expresse, he bends his gentle wit

And thinking of those braunches greene to frame

A girlond for her dainty forehead fit,

He pluckt a bough; out of whose rift there came

Small drops of gory bloud, that trickled downe the same.

—TFQ