p.
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And knewst my thoughts beyond an Angells art When thou knewst what I dreamt, when thou knewst when Excesse of ioy would wake mee, and camst then I doe confesse it could not chuse but bee Profanenes to thinke thee any thinge, but thee Comminge and staying shewd thee; thee, But risinge makes mee doubt, that now Thou art not thou That loue is weake where feares as stronge as hee, Tise not all spiritt pure and braue If Mixture itt of feare, shame, honor, haue, Perchance as Torches which mvst reddie bee Men light, and put out, soe thou dealst with mee. Thou camst to kindell, goest to come; Thus I Will dreame that hope againe, but els would die.| Marke but this Flea, and marke in this How littell that which thou deniest mee is Itt suckt mee first, and now sucks thee And in this Flea our two bluds mingled bee; Thou knowst that this cannot bee said A sin nor shame nor losse of Maydenhead Yett this enioye before itt woe And pamperd swells with one blood made of two And this alas is more, then wee woulde doe. [CW: Oh staie] |
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