|
| The Extasy |
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| Where like a pillow on a bedd, [277] |
| A pregnant bank swelld vp, to rest |
| The Vyolets reclining head |
| Sate wee two, one anothers best |
|
| Our hands were firmly cimented |
| By a fast balme w.ch thence did spring |
| Our eye beames twisted, and did thread |
| Our eyes vpon one double string |
|
| So to engraft our hands, as yet |
| Was all our meanes to make vs one |
| And Pictures on our eyes to get |
| Was all our propagation. |
|
| As t'wixt two æquall Armyes, fate |
| Suspends vnæquall* victory: |
| Our Soules, wch to aduance our state |
| Were gon out, hung twixt her and mee |
|
| And while our Soules negotiate there |
| Wee like Sepulchrall Statues lay |
| All day the same our postures were |
| And wee sayd nothing all that day |
|
| If any, so by loue refind |
| That hee Soules language vnderstood |
| And by good Love, were growne all mind, |
| Within convenient distance stood
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[CW: Hee though___] |