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I.
Comanding asker, if it be
Pity that you faine would
have,
Then I turne begger unto thee,
And aske the
thing that thou dost crave.
I will suffice thy hungry
need,
So thou wilt but my fancy feed.
II.
In all ill yeares, was ever knowne
On so much beauty
such a dearth?
Which, in that thrice-bequeathed gowne,
Lookes like the Sun eclipst with Earth,
Like gold in
canvas, or with dirt
Unsoyled Ermins close begirt.
III.
Yet happy he, that can but tast
This
whiter skin, who thirsty is!
Fooles dote on sattin
motions lac'd:
The gods go naked in their blisse.
At th' barrell's head there shines the vine,
There
only relishes the wine.
IV.
There quench my
heat, and thou shalt sup
Worthy the lips that it must
touch,
Nectar from out the starry cup:
I beg thy
breath not halfe so much.
So both our wants supplied
shall be,
You'l give for love, I, charity.
V.
Cheape then are pearle-imbroderies,
That not adorne,
but cloud thy wast;
Thou shalt be cloath'd above all
prise,
If thou wilt promise me imbrac't.
Wee'l
ransack neither chest nor shelfe:
Ill cover thee with
mine owne selfe.
VI.
But, cruel, if thou dost
deny
This necessary almes to me,
What soft-soul'd
man but with his eye
And hand will hence be shut to
thee?
Since all must judge you more unkinde:
I
starve your body, you, my minde.
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