My sweet did sweetly sleep, And on her rosy face Stood tears of pearl, which beauty's self did weep; I, wond'ring at her grace, Did all amaz'd remain, When Love said, 'Fool, can looks thy wishes crown? Time past comes not again.' Then did I me bow down, And kissing her fair breast, lips, cheeks, and eyes, Prov'd here on earth the joys of paradise. |