Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||
His Vision to his Mistris.
I dream'd we both were in a bedOf Roses almost smothered;
But then I heard thy sweet breath say,
Faults done by night will blush by day;
I kist thee (panting) and I call
The night to record, that was all;
But ah! if empty dreams so please,
Love give me more such nights as these.
Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||