 | Poems Lyrique Macaronique Heroique |  |
SONG III.
[Mine own Basina come a long]
1
Mine own Basina come a long,The Subject of my Song.
For thee I long:
And know my Pretty sweetness: know
Since thou lov'st me,
I welcome nothing in the World but Thee.
2
Unveyle those Damask Cheeks of Thine,Where every graceful Line,
Is so Divine,
That were, I to receive my Death,
By thy Fair Eye,
I'de Court it, bury'd in your Pits to lye.
3
Yet cloud thy Face, thy Veile keep on!If all should gaze thereon,
6
For it may chance thy random Darts
Will kill them too.
Whom I'de not Wish so Good a Death unto.
4
Display thine Armes: thy Wealth, unfold!While like to Jove of old,
In Liquid Gold.
I do Carouse it in Lov's Bowle
To such a Bliss,
Our Souls shall mingle while our bodys Kiss.
5
Thus will we Live, thus will we Love,Till even the gods above,
Shall Envious prove:
And after Death we'l Joy as They
Till that appear,
We'l have Elizium here, as they have there.
| Poems Lyrique Macaronique Heroique | |