In a groue of Trees of Mirtle, Venus met faire Mirrahs childe, Kisse quoth she my pretty Turtle, But her hopes hee did beguile, With no no. 2 Come, oh come my dearest treasure, And looke Babies in my eyes : Coll, and kisse, inioy thy pleasure ; But her kindnesse he denyes, With no &c. 3 Lowtish Lad come learne to venture, On the Iuory brest of loue : I dare stay thy worst encounter; But her words as winde did proue, With no &c. 4 Shall then loue be thus abused, By the beauty of a Boy ? Shall my Temple be refused, Will Adonis still be coy? With no, &c. 5 Then I vow that beauty euer, Shall neglected be of loue : Let the foolish Boy perseuer, He the folly now shall proue, Of no no.
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