1 Your faire lookes vrge my desire, Calme it sweet with loue. Stay, ˘ 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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