SLeep, Alm'hide, Sleep, until thy bliss∣ful
Lover robs thee of a Kiss
Whilst he with Steps, observ'd by Care,
Approaches gladly to thy Chair:
Venus, the Feathe••s from thy Doves
Pull, and bestrow them like to Groves;
That walking, I no Noise may make,
For fear lest Almahide awake.
Inspire her glowing Chee••s with heat,
That Cupid may's Alarumn beat;
And when the Ardor does begin,
Let it not terminate in Sin;
But Chast and Holy let all be,
Devoted to the Shrine of thee.
Lo! now I come, my Dear be still,
For I'll do nought against thy Will:
I'll touch thy Ruby Lips; and Vie
The motions of each Starry Eye;
Observe, i•• they be Sealed fast;
If so, then let our Ardor last
With equal glowing Heat; 'till she
Wakes, says Enough, thro' Modesty.
And then I kiss'd her Sug'red Lips, till Chance,
By Startling her, rous'd me out of my Trance.