The Shepherd's Garden | ||
48
THE SHEPHERD PRAYS HIS MISTRESS TO SPEAK HER AFFECTION.
Nay but thine eye doth tell me what
Thy cruel lips forswore:
Though Love doth bid dissemble not,
False shame will lie the more.
Thy cruel lips forswore:
Though Love doth bid dissemble not,
False shame will lie the more.
Command these sullen fears depart:
Why shouldst thou do this wrong,
To let the love that burns thy heart
Freeze on thy silent tongue?
Why shouldst thou do this wrong,
To let the love that burns thy heart
Freeze on thy silent tongue?
The modesty thy soul would hold
Shall not affect thee less
Because thy lips shall grow more bold
Thy passion to confess.
Shall not affect thee less
Because thy lips shall grow more bold
Thy passion to confess.
Nor shall I those high laws reject
Thy niceness writes for thee,
But to thy virtue's fair respect
More willing servant be.
Thy niceness writes for thee,
But to thy virtue's fair respect
More willing servant be.
The Shepherd's Garden | ||