With tender hands nature paints woman’s face,

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With tender hands nature paints woman’s face,
And put in her tender heart hot erotic passions,
That controls her supper wit that does deface,
But hides her faults, pretty woman’s fashions,
Your eyes more cunning and less faithful to me,
And sucks my soul of words in the rusty lone,
When I think on my past controls my destiny,
But your jealous will in rime I have shown,
Nane makes mistake cunning put in her will,
Jealousy controls her mind, talkative her tongue,
Even in the best time in olden days is still,
Never follows her will, even death bell, rung,

Women tears: men’s traps, smile lovers’ pleasure,
Changing lover daily loses her beauty treasure.