Page:Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1).pdf/8

 But turns his cold bum to my belly,

and there he lies snoring all night,

He surely loves some other madam,

or else I would have more delight.

I am kiss'd only twice in the week,

and that’s a poor pitiful thing:

And oh! to be married again,

for I love all things in the spring.

 

to me only with thine,

and I'll pledge thee with mine,

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

and I'll not look for wine.

The thirst which in my soul doth rise,

does ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove’s Nectar sip,

I wou’d not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

not so much honouring thee;

And giving it a hope that there,

it could not wither’d be.

But thou therein did only breathe,

and sent it back to me;

Since when, it looks and smells, I swear,

not of itself but thee.