The blak Pluto, thoch he war never ſo ſchairpe,Orpheus movit with ſueitnes of his harpe.The hardeſt hairt, be it aſſailyit oft,With ſueit meiknes it may be makin ſoft;And, namlie, be the dulcour feminine,Quhilk at all tyme the maiſt motive hes beneTo gentil hairts, of onye thing alyve,To move thair myndis maiſt inſenſative.
Myn ignoraunce whome clouded hath eclyppesWith thy pure bemes illumynyne all abouteThy blessyd brethe let refleyre in my lyppesAnd with the dewe of heven thou them degouteSo that my mouth may blowe an encense outeThe redolent dulcour aromatykeOf thy deputed lusty rhetoryke.
So Crist, as he was ruthfully hamerd apon the Croce,Songe to his Fadire of heven in a full swete voice:So swete and faire was it, and full of all dulcoure,Þat it convertid thre thovzand men in þat ilk one houre; […]
It is marvelously replenyshed with thise redy kannes of soueraigne dulcour and swetenes, and in especiall with a reede that named is schinus and with many / other allectuaries aromatik passyng delicious in tasture.
In-so-moche that maryners when they saile so farre on lofe as they may well know and apperceive the coost of that contrey, yet the dulcour and aire delicious vppon theym so […]
Thare is plentie of all plesouris perfyte,Euident brychtnes, but obscuritie;Withouttin dolour, dulcore and delyte;Withouttin rancour, perfyte Cheritie;Withouttin hunger, Sasiabilitie.
[…] that by its colour and dulcour they might be remembered of the purity and delightfulness of the law.