|
| Well then, stay here; but know, |
| When thou hast staid and done thy most; |
| A naked thinking heart, that makes no show, |
| Is to a woman but a kinde of Ghost; |
| How shall shee know my heart; or having none, |
| Know thee for one? |
| Practise may make her know some other part, |
| But take my word, she doth not know a Heart. |
|
| Meet me at London, then, |
| Twenty dayes hence, and thou shalt see |
| Me fresher, and more fat, by being with men, |
| Then if I had staid still with her and thee. |
| For Gods sake, if you can, be you so too: |
| I will give you |
| There, to another friend, whom we shall finde |
| As glad to have my body, as my minde. |
|
| The Primrose, being at Mountgomery Castle |
| upon the hill, on which it is situate. |
|
| Vpon this Primrose hill, |
| Where, if Heav'n would distill |
| A shouer of raine, each severall drop might goe |
| To his owne Primrose, and grow Manna so; |
| And where their forme, and their infinintie |
| Make a terrestriall Galaxie, |
| As the small starres doe in the skie:
|
[CW: I walke] |