She alone of Shepherdesses 
With her blue disdayning eyes, 
Wo'd not hark a Kyng that dresses 
All his lute in sighes: 
Yet to winne 
Katheryn, 
I elect for mine Emprise. 

None is like her, none above her, 
Who so lifts my youth in me, 
That a littel more to love her 
Were to leave her free! 
But to winne 
Katheryn, 
Is mine utmost love's degree. 

Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger, 
Build the four walles of her bower; 
She's noe Sweete for any stranger, 
She's noe valley flower: 
And to winne 
Katheryn, 
To her height my heart can Tower!

Uppe to Beautie's promontory 
I will climb, not loudlie call 
Perfect and escaping glory 
Folly, if I fall: 
Well to winne 
Katheryn! 
To be worth her is my all.