Our sences tell vs if wee please not them Our loue is but a dotage or a dreame How shall wee then agree, you may decend But will not to my end I faine would tune my fancy to y ou r key But cannot reach to that abstracted way Ther rests but this, that whilst wee soiourne heer Our bodyes may drawe neer And when their wills noe more they can extend Then let our soules begin where they did end page break 47. O' I Could Loue if I Could fynd a M rs Pleasinge to my Mynd whom Neyther gould nor pryd Could Moue to Buy Hir Bewtie sell Hir Loue line break One that were Neate but not too fyne whoe Lou's me for my selfe not myne One Rather Comely then too fayre white Skind & of a Brownis Heare line break Not ouer Blushinge nor too Bould Not Chyldish fond nor yett too [B] C ould Not Sullen Sylent nor all tongue Not Pewlinge weake nor Manlyke stronge line break Modest & full of pleasant Mirth, yett Close as Centure of the Earth in whom noe passions yo w shall See But when shee Smyles [or] she Lookes on mee line break whoe Calls to Bedd with Meltinge Eys whoe Sweet & fresh as Morn doth Ryes if such an one I Chaunce to fynd I haue a M rs to my Mynd. finis
transcribed_information
Our sences tell vs if wee please not them Our loue is but a dotage or a dreame How shall wee then agree, you may decend But will not to my end I faine would tune my fancy to y ou r key But cannot reach to that abstracted way Ther rests but this, that whilst wee soiourne heer Our bodyes may drawe neer And when their wills noe more they can extend Then let our soules begin where they did end page break 47. O' I Could Loue if I Could fynd a M rs Pleasinge to my Mynd whom Neyther gould nor pryd Could Moue to Buy Hir Bewtie sell Hir Loue line break One that were Neate but not too fyne whoe Lou's me for my selfe not myne One Rather Comely then too fayre white Skind & of a Brownis Heare line break Not ouer Blushinge nor too Bould Not Chyldish fond nor yett too [B] C ould Not Sullen Sylent nor all tongue Not Pewlinge weake nor Manlyke stronge line break Modest & full of pleasant Mirth, yett Close as Centure of the Earth in whom noe passions yo w shall See But when shee Smyles [or] she Lookes on mee line break whoe Calls to Bedd with Meltinge Eys whoe Sweet & fresh as Morn doth Ryes if such an one I Chaunce to fynd I haue a M rs to my Mynd. finis
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