Song (”Nay but you, who do not love her”) lyrics

Nay but you, who do not love her
Is she not pure gold, my mistress?
Holds earth aught -- speak truth -- above her?
Aught like this tress, see, and this tress
And this last fairest tress of all
So fair, see, ere I let it fall?
Because, you spend your lives in praising;
To praise, you search the wide world over:
Then why not witness, calmly gazing
If earth holds aught -- speak truth -- above her?
Above this tress, and this, I touch
But cannot praise, I love so much!