 | Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies |  |
To the Rose.
Go happy rose and enterwoove,
With other flowers bind my love,
Tel her too she must not be
Longer Loving, long free
That so oft hath fettered me.
With other flowers bind my love,
Tel her too she must not be
Longer Loving, long free
That so oft hath fettered me.
Say if she's fretfull, and I have bands
Of Pearl and Gold to bind her hands,
Tell her if she strugle still
I have myrtel Rods at will,
For to tame, though not to kill.
Of Pearl and Gold to bind her hands,
Tell her if she strugle still
57
For to tame, though not to kill.
Take thou my blessing; thus go
And tell her this, but do not so.
Lest a handsome anger fly
Lika lightning from her eye,
And burn thee up as well as I.
And tell her this, but do not so.
Lest a handsome anger fly
Lika lightning from her eye,
And burn thee up as well as I.
| Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | |