Am not I shot

Tell me not (Sweet) I am unkind, That from the Nunnerie Of thy chaste breast, and quiet minde, To Warre and Armes I flie.True; a new Mistresse now I chase, The first Foe in the Field; And with a stronger Faith imbrace

As when she ceas'd, we sighing saw The floore lay pav'd with broken hearts.

If to be absent were to be Away from thee; Or that when I am gone, You or I were alone; Then my Lucasta might I crave Pity from blustring winde, or swallowing wave.

Though Seas and Land betwixt us both, Our Faith and Troth, Like separated soules, All time and space controules: Above the highest sphere wee meet Unseene, unknowne, and greet as Angels greet.

Heere wee'l strippe and coole our fire In Creame below, in milke-baths higher: And when all Well's are drawne dry, I'le drink a tear out of thine eye.

So did she move; so did she sing Like the Harmonious spheres that bring Unto their Rounds their musick's ayd; Which she performed such a way, As all th' inamour'd world will say The Graces daunced, and Apollo play'd.