Page:Vanity of pride.pdf/7

[7]

What voice is this I hear, sound like my dearest deat,

cease to lament love, for still I am true,

No man e'er was born could your bright beauty scorn,

and I adore no fair creature but you.

How are are maidens fair to rave in deep despair,

they think they're forsaken in ev'ry degree,

When fear fills their mind, that men are unkind,

and will court each new face that they see.

Let's not disputing stand, we'll join our hearts & hand,

come pretty maids convey my delight,

From church to the bed, where all sorrows are fled,

raptures shall crown the long night.