The History of Polindor and Flostella With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged |
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Presence.
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 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
Presence.
Now shines on me my sweetest Sun,
As yet my Spring-time is not done,
And I boast that I am living;
Whilst my Soul and Sences dance,
Or else prove some blessed Trance
Through those Joyes from thee Reviving;
Now I view
Th' All of Beauty, touch it too:
As yet my Spring-time is not done,
And I boast that I am living;
Whilst my Soul and Sences dance,
Or else prove some blessed Trance
Through those Joyes from thee Reviving;
Now I view
Th' All of Beauty, touch it too:
Those Hands and Brest: all sweetness heare
That Tongue, Voyce, musicall to th' Eare:
O yet more (to th' Joyes abounding)
Let me Time's advantage take,
Reap some Kisses for Love's sake;
Whilst those Eyes prove deeply Wounding,
Let impart
Lips their sugred Balm to th' Heart.
That Tongue, Voyce, musicall to th' Eare:
O yet more (to th' Joyes abounding)
Let me Time's advantage take,
Reap some Kisses for Love's sake;
Whilst those Eyes prove deeply Wounding,
Let impart
Lips their sugred Balm to th' Heart.
My starv'd Desire those Fruits afford
Though want Love's soveraign Food and hoord
Nay (my Dear) such shortned Blisses?
Think not One my Life preserves,
Or, that More oth' sweet Conserves
Ought could make me slight thy Kisses,
Who do swear
Each begets new Longings there.
Though want Love's soveraign Food and hoord
Nay (my Dear) such shortned Blisses?
Think not One my Life preserves,
Or, that More oth' sweet Conserves
Ought could make me slight thy Kisses,
Who do swear
Each begets new Longings there.
Thus high-grac't,
I've no fickle Lovers Tast,
Nor can those Lips or cloy, or waste.
I've no fickle Lovers Tast,
Nor can those Lips or cloy, or waste.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |