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A Womans
Lookes Fond wanton youths Shee whose matchlesse beauty Once did I loue Led by a strong desire Lie downe poore heart Where lingring feare Hero care not though When loue and time Sweete come away Women what are they Farewell deere loue O my poore eies If fathers knew Life is a Poets phable Sweete Philomell That heart What if I seeke My mistris Perplexed Can modest plaine desire |
I. II. III. IIII. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIIII. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. |
see: I.Bartlet: A Booke of Ayres, No.VII |
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