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TO AMARANTHA;
THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVELL HER HAIRE.
I.
Amarantha sweet and faire,
Ah brade no more that
shining haire!
As my curious hand or eye,
Hovering
round thee, let it flye.
II.
Let it flye as
unconfin'd
As it's calme ravisher, the winde,
Who
hath left his darling, th' East,
To wanton o're that
spicie neast.
III.
Ev'ry tresse must be
confest:
But neatly tangled at the best;
Like a
clue of golden thread,
Most excellently ravelled.
IV.
Doe not then winde up that light
In
ribands, and o'er-cloud in night,
Like the sun in's
early ray;
But shake your head, and scatter day.
V.
See, 'tis broke! within this grove,
The
bower and the walkes of love,
Weary lye we downe and
rest,
And fanne each other's panting breast.
VI.
Heere wee'll strippe and coole our fire,
In
creame below, in milk-baths higher:
And when all
wells are drawne dry,
I'll drink a teare out of thine
eye.
VII.
Which our very joys shall leave,
That sorrowes thus we can deceive;
Or our very
sorrowes weepe,
That joyes so ripe so little keepe.
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