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