THE CARELESS LOVER by JOHN SUCKLING

NEVER believe me if I love,
Or know what 'tis, or mean to prove;
And yet in faith I lie, I do,
And she's extremely handsome too:
She 's fair, she 's wondrous fair,
But I care not who know it.
Ere I 'll die for love, I 'll fairly forgo it.

This heat of hope, or cold of fear,
My foolish heart could never bear:
One sigh imprison'd ruins more
Than earthquakes have done heretofore.
She 's fair, etc.

When I am hungry, I do eat,
And cut no fingers 'stead of meat;
Nor with much gazing on her face,
Do e'er rise hungry from the place.
She 's fair, etc.

A gentle round fill'd to the brink
To this and t' other friend I drink;
And when 'tis nam'd another's health,
I never make it hers by stealth.
She 's fair, etc.

Blackfriars to me, and old Whitehall,
Is even as much as is the fall
Of fountains on a pathless grove,
And nourishes as much my love.
She 's fair, etc.

I visit, talk, do business, play,
And for a need laugh out a day:
Who does not thus in Cupid's school,
He makes not love, but plays the fool.
She 's fair, she 's wondrous fair,
But I care not who know it,
Ere I 'll die for love, I 'll fairly forgo it.

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