As when hot summer sun the soil has rived,

  And most the thirsty plant of moisture drains,

  The weak and wasting flower, well nigh deprived

  Of that quick sap which circled in its veins,

  Sucks in the welcome rain, and is revived;

  So, when bold Bradamant so well maintains

  The courier maid's defence, her beauteous cheer

  And mirth revive, and brighten as whilere.