BASSVS.
〈♫〉〈♫〉
〈♫〉〈♫〉
2
I am not so foule or fayre,
To be proud, nor to desparye;
Guesse I can what thing it is
Men desire when they doe kisse.
Smoake can neuer burne they say,
But the flames that follow may.
3
Faith 'tis but a foolish minde,
Yet me thinkes a heate I finde,
Like thirst longing that doth bide
Euer on my weaker side:
Where they say my heart doth moue,
Venus grant it be not loue.
4
If it he, alas, what then?
Were not women made for men?
A good 'twete a thing were past,
That must needes be done at last.
Roses that are ouer-blowne
Growe lesse sweet, then fall alone.
5
Yet nor Churle, nor ••••lken Gull
Shall my Mayden blossome pull:
Who shall not I soone can tell,
Who shall would I could as well:
This I know who ere hee be
Loue hee must, or flatter me.