Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure|
Did through my bodie wound my minde,
You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure
And daintie lodging me assign’d.
Now I in you without a bodie move,
Rising and falling with your wings:
We both together sweetly live and love,
Yet say sometimes, God help poore Kings.
Comfort, I’le die; for if you poste from me,
Sure I shall do so, and much more:
But if I travell in your companie,
You know the way to heavens doore.