THOMAS LODGE
What if I beat the wanton boy
With many a rod? He will repay me with annoy,
Because a god.
Then sit thou safely on my knee, Then let thy bower my bosom be, Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee, O Cupid, so thou pity me,
Spare not, but play thee'
��/o,? Phillis I
MY Phillis hath the morning sun At fiist to look upon her, And Phillis hath morn-waking birds
Her ribings still to honour. My Phillis hath prime-feather'd flowers,
That smile when she treads on them; And Phillis hath a gallant flock,
That leaps bincc she doth own them. But Philhs hath too hard a heart,
Alas that she should have it* It yields no meicy to desert,
Nor grace to those that crave it.
��E guards the roses of thy lips And flies about them like a bee; If I approach he forward skips, And if I kiss he stmgcth me.
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