Licia, or Poemes of Loue In Honour of the admirable and singular vertues of his Lady, to the imitation of the best Latin Poets, and others. Whereunto is added the Rising to the Crowne of Richard the third [by Giles Fletcher] |
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AN ELEGIE.
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 | Licia, or Poemes of Loue |  |
65
AN ELEGIE.
[Downe in a bed, and on a bed of doune]
Downe in a bed, and on a bed of doune,
Love, she, and I to sleepe together lay:
She lyke a wanton kist me with a frowne,
Sleepe, sleepe, she saide, but meant to steale away:
I could not choose, but kisse, but wake but smile,
To see how she, thought us two, to beguile.
Love, she, and I to sleepe together lay:
She lyke a wanton kist me with a frowne,
Sleepe, sleepe, she saide, but meant to steale away:
I could not choose, but kisse, but wake but smile,
To see how she, thought us two, to beguile.
She faind a sleepe, I wakt her with a kisse:
A kisse to me she gave, to make me sleepe:
If I did wrong (sweete love) my fault was this,
In that I did not you, thus waking keepe,
Then kisse me (sweet) that so I sleepe may take,
Or let me kisse, to keepe you still awake.
A kisse to me she gave, to make me sleepe:
If I did wrong (sweete love) my fault was this,
In that I did not you, thus waking keepe,
Then kisse me (sweet) that so I sleepe may take,
Or let me kisse, to keepe you still awake.
The night drew on, and needs she must be gone:
She waked love, and bid him learne to waite:
She sigh'd, she said, to leave me there alone,
And bid love stay, but practise no deceit.
Love wept for griefe, and sighing made great mone.
And could not sleepe, nor staie, if she were gone.
She waked love, and bid him learne to waite:
She sigh'd, she said, to leave me there alone,
And bid love stay, but practise no deceit.
Love wept for griefe, and sighing made great mone.
And could not sleepe, nor staie, if she were gone.
Then staie (sweet love) a kisse with that I gave,
She could not staie: but gave my kisse againe:
A kisse was all that I could gett or crave,
And with a kisse, she bound me to remaine.
A Licia still, I in my dreames did crie,
Come (Licia) come, or els my heart will die.
She could not staie: but gave my kisse againe:
A kisse was all that I could gett or crave,
And with a kisse, she bound me to remaine.
A Licia still, I in my dreames did crie,
Come (Licia) come, or els my heart will die.
| Licia, or Poemes of Loue | |