Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume II. Love. 1904. | | | | II. Love’s Nature | | Rosalynd’s Complaint | | Thomas Lodge (1558–1625) |
| | | LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, | |
| Doth suck his sweet; | |
| Now with his wings he plays with me. | |
| Now with his feet; | |
| Within mine eyes he makes his nest, | 5 |
| His bed amidst my tender breast, | |
| My kisses are his daily feast, | |
| And yet he robs me of my rest: | |
| Ah! wanton, will ye? | |
| |
| And if I sleep, then percheth he | 10 |
| With pretty flight, | |
| And makes his pillow of my knee, | |
| The livelong night. | |
| Strike I the lute, he tunes the string; | |
| He music plays, if so I sing; | 15 |
| He lends me every lovely thing, | |
| Yet, cruel, he my heart doth sting: | |
| Whist! wanton, still ye! | |
| |
| Else I with roses every day | |
| Will whip you hence, | 20 |
| And hind you when you long to play, | |
| For your offence; | |
| I ’ll shut my eyes to keep you in, | |
| I ’ll make you fast it for your sin, | |
| I ’ll count your power not worth a pin: | 25 |
| Alas! what hereby shall I win | |
| If he gainsay me! | |
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| What if I beat the wanton boy | |
| With many a rod? | |
| He will repay me with annoy, | 30 |
| Because a god; | |
| Then sit thou safely on my knee, | |
| And let thy bower my bosom be; | |
| Lurk in my eyes, I like of thee, | |
| O Cupid! so thou pity me; | 35 |
| Spare not, but play thee! | | | | |
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