Have you seen but a white lily grow
Before rude hands had touched it;
have you mark’d but the fall of the snow
before the earth hath smudged it?
Have you felt the wool of beaver
or swan’s down ever
or have smelt of the bud of the briar
or the nard in the fire
or have tasted the bag of the bee?
Oh so white, Oh so soft, Oh so sweet, so sweet is she.
Anonymous, about 1612