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Fourth Sonnet.

[Onely Joy, now here you are]

[1]

Onely Joy, now here you are,
Fit to heare and ease my care;
Let my whispering voyce obtaine
Sweete rewards for sharpest paine:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
289

2

Night hath closde all in her cloke,
Twinckling starres love thoughts provoke,
Danger hence good care doth keepe,
Jealozie himselfe doth sleepe:
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.

3

Better place no wit can finde
Cupids knot to loose or binde,
These sweete flowers, our fine bed too,
Us in their best language wooe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.

4

This smal light the Moone bestoes,
Serves thy beames for to disclose,
So to raise my heart more hie;
Feare not, els none can us spie:
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.

5

That you heard was but a mouse,
Dumbe Sleepe holdeth all the house,
Yet a sleepe (me thinkes) they say,
Yong fooles, take time while you may:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.

6

Niggard time threates if we misse
This large offer of our blisse,
Long stay ere she graunt the same:
Sweet then, while ech thing doth frame
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.

7

Your faire Mother is a bed,
Candles out, and curtaines spred;
She thinkes you doo letters write:
Write, but first let me endite.
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.
290

8

Sweete, alas why strive you thus?
Concord better fitteth us;
Leave to Mars the force of hands,
Your power in your beautie stands.
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.

9

Woe to mee, and doo you sweare
Me to hate but I forbeare?
Curst be my destnies all,
That brought mee so high to fall:
Soone with my death Ile please thee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
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