Latine Songs With their English: and Poems. By Henry Bold ... Collected and perfected by Captain William Bold |
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SONG XIII. |
 | Latine Songs |  |
SONG XIII.
I
I love my Love, she not me,Because I am so poor:
But, poor or rich, she hath my heart,
And shall have evermore.
46
II
I went unto my true Loves Gate,And knocked at the Ring;
So ready was my own, her self,
To rise, and let me in.
III
I looked in my true Loves face,Me thought she seem'd but wan;
I took her in mine arms so wide,
And carry'd her to bed agen.
IV
Where all the fore-part of the nightTogether close we lay,
And all the latter-part of the night
She slept in mine arms till day.
V
But cursed be that little Tirry-CockThat crow'd in the morning so soon;
I thought it had been the dawning of the day,
When 'twas but the light of the Moon.
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VI
Then up I rose, and donn'd my Cloaths,And walk'd it over the Plain;
Wishing my self on my true Loves Bed,
And her in mine arms again.
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