Come turn to me, thou pretty little one, and I will
turn to thee. To a pleasant new tune.
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S Weet if thou wilt be
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As I am to thee
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Then by Cupids Mother,
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I have vow'd to have
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none other she:
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Then turn to me thou pretty little one
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and I will turn to thee.
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Those bright eyes of thine
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Which do dazle mine,
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Like the stars of Heaven,
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Which do keep their even
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course and shine:
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Then let us in Conjunction meet
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and both our loves combine.
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If that lovely face,
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Will to mine give place,
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That with loves devotion
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We may use the motion
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of imbrace:
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Then sit thee down my pretty little one,
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and let us love a space.
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What hurt is in this?
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For to take a kiss
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If it may be granted;
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I that long have wanted
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such a bliss:
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Then be not sparing of a few
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whereas such plenty is.
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If thy breasts do pant,
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For the milk they want,
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Every Hill and Mountain
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To supply each fountain,
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be not scant:
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Then give to me thy lilly white hand,
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and I thee mine will grant.
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If so be that I,
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May but thee come nigh,
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The Vine, and Elm shall never,
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Joyn more close together
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than will I,
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Then shew thy fruits my amorous joy
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and i'le with love supply.
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If that thou dost crave,
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Silks and Garments brave
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Or what rich attire:
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Could thy heart desire
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to receive:
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Declare to me thou pretty little one,
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thou canst but ask and have.
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From the Indias far,
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Where rich Jewels are
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I will bring thee treasure
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Far beyond all measure
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and compare:
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Then be not coy my pretty little one
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for I no cost will spare.
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S Weet-heart for thy sake,
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I will never make,
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Choice of any other,
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Then by Cupids Mother;
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freely speak:
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It's at thy choice my dearest love,
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either to leave or take.
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I thy Mary Gold:
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Wrapt in many fold.
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Like the Golden Clyent,
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To the Sun supplient,
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shew it's a gold:
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Display thy beams my glorious Sun,
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and i'le to thee unfold.
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Those bright locks of hair,
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Spreading o're each ear,
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Every crisp and curle;
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Far more rich then pearl.
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doth appear:
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Then be thou constant in thy love,
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and I will be thy Dear,
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Till I have possest,
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Thee whom I love best,
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I have vow'd for ever:
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In thy absence never,
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to take rest:
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Deny me not thou pretty little one,
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In whom my hopes are blest.
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If a Kiss or two,
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Can thee a favour do,
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Were it more than twenty,
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Love's indu'd with plenty;
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Lovers know:
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For thy sweet sake a thousand take,
|
for that's the way to wooe.
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It doth grieve my heart,
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From thee for to part;
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It is to me more pleasant,
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Ever to be present,
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where thou art:
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Yet in the absence of a friend,
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my love shall never start.
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As to me thou art kind,
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Duty shall me bind:
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Ever to obey thee,
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Reason so doth sway me,
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to thy mind:
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Thou hast my heart where e're thou art
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although I stay behind.
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In thy bed or bark,
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I will be thy mark:
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Couples yet more loving,
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Never had their moving:
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from the Ark,
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Welcome to me my only joy,
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all times, be it light or dark.
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