LOVE guards the roses of thy lips   And flies about them like a bee; If I approach he forward skips,   And if I kiss he stingeth me.

Love in thine eyes doth build his bower,   And sleeps within their pretty shine; And if I look the boy will lower,   And from their orbs shoot shafts divine.

Love works thy heart within his fire,   And in my tears doth firm the same; And if I tempt it will retire,   And of my plaints doth make a game.

Love, let me cull her choicest flowers;   And pity me, and calm her eye; Make soft her heart, dissolve her lowers   Then will I praise thy deity.

But if thou do not, Love, I'll truly serve her In spite of thee, and by firm faith deserve her.