General Editor: Marc R. Plamondon
1Faire eyes, sweet lips, deare heart, that foolish I
3Since to himselfe he doth your gifts apply,
4As his maine force, choise sport, and easefull stay.
5For when he will see who dare him gaine-say,
6Then with those eyes he lookes, lo by and by
7Each soule doth at Loues feet his weapon lay,
8Glad if for her he giue them leaue to die.
9When he would play, then in her lips he is,
10Where blushing red, that Loues-selfe them do loue,
11With either lip he doth the other kisse:
12But when he will for quiets sake remooue
13From all the world, her heart is then his roome,
14Where well he knowes, no man to him can come.
2] pray: prey Back to Line