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.