If thou my love couldst only see,
The way I loveth only thee,
Thou twould not turn from me dear heart,
Thou wouldst come nearer not depart.

Rejoice with me faint heart,
When we’re in sweet repose,
For when I look into thy face,
Thou art more prettier than a rose.

To stare upon thy tender breast,
All rich and full in bloom,
To kiss thou lips that tempest me red,
In thine sweet smelling bedroom.