1 Your faire lookes vrge my desire,
Calme it sweet with loue.
Stay, ô why will you retire ?
Can you churlish proue ?
If Loue may perswade,
Loues pleasures deare deny not :
Here is a groue secur'd with shade,
O then be wise and flye not.
2 Harke the Birds delighted sing,
Yet our pleasure sleepes :
Wealth to none can profit bring,
Which the miser keepes :
O come while we may,
Let's chayne Loue with embraces,
Wee haue not all times time to stay,
Nor safety in all places.
3 What ill finde you now in this ?
Or who can complaine ?
There is nothing done amisse (???)
That breedes no man payne.
'Tis now flowry May ,
But eu'n in cold December,
When all these leaues are blowne away
This place shall I remember.
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