 | A Margarite of America |  |
[O curions Gem how I enuie each while]
O curions Gem how I enuie each while,
To see thee play vpon my Ladies paps,
And heare those Orbes where Cupid layes his traps
From whence a gratious Aprill still doth smile.
To see thee play vpon my Ladies paps,
And heare those Orbes where Cupid layes his traps
From whence a gratious Aprill still doth smile.
And now thou plaist thee in that Garden gentill,
Twixt golden fruite and neere her heart receiuest
Thy rest, and all her secret thoughts conceiuest
Vnder a vaile faire, white, diuine, and subtill.
Twixt golden fruite and neere her heart receiuest
Thy rest, and all her secret thoughts conceiuest
Vnder a vaile faire, white, diuine, and subtill.
Ye gentle pearles where ere did nature make you?
Or whether in Indian shoares you found your mould,
Or in those lands where spices serue for fuell:
Oh if I might from out your essence take you,
And turne my selfe to shape what ere I would,
How gladly would I be my Ladies Iewell?
Or whether in Indian shoares you found your mould,
Or in those lands where spices serue for fuell:
Oh if I might from out your essence take you,
And turne my selfe to shape what ere I would,
How gladly would I be my Ladies Iewell?
| A Margarite of America | |