How his soule came ensnared.

MY soule would one day goe and seeke
For Roses, and in Julia's cheeke,
A richess of those sweets she found,
(As in an other Rosamond.)
But gathering Roses as she was;
(Not knowing what would come to passe)
It chanst a ringlet of her haire,
Caught my poore soule, as in a snare:
Which ever since has been in thrall,
Yet freedome, shee enjoyes withall.