 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
372
TO HIS COY LOVE,
A Canzonet.
I pray thee leave, love me no more,
Call home the Heart you gave me,
I but in vaine that Saint adore,
That can, but will not save me:
These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;
Was ever Man thus served?
Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
For Pleasure to be sterved.
Call home the Heart you gave me,
I but in vaine that Saint adore,
That can, but will not save me:
These poore halfe Kisses kill me quite;
Was ever Man thus served?
Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
For Pleasure to be sterved.
Shew me no more those Snowie Brests,
With Azure Riverets branched,
Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
O Tantalus, thy Paines ne'r tell,
By me thou art prevented;
'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,
But thus in Heaven tormented.
With Azure Riverets branched,
Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
O Tantalus, thy Paines ne'r tell,
By me thou art prevented;
'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,
But thus in Heaven tormented.
Clip me no more in those deare Armes,
Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;
O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,
And doe but more inthrall me.
But see how patient I am growne,
In all this coyle about thee;
Come nice Thing, let thy Heart alone,
I cannot live without thee.
Nor thy Life's Comfort call me;
O, these are but too pow'rfull Charmes,
And doe but more inthrall me.
But see how patient I am growne,
In all this coyle about thee;
Come nice Thing, let thy Heart alone,
I cannot live without thee.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |