 | Pastorals |  |
53
And soft it sate in Neck of Lass.
Sooth, in her lilly Face 'twould look,
A pretty fliggar when she spoak.
See the sweet Fon, quoth Youngling-Mey;
I prethee turn and with it play!
Alack the Day! quoth Lallet fair,
The lovely Lad will love elsewhere!
And clap'd her Face to th' dewie Grass,
The fairest Face that ever was.
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