Full many are the joies of love I knowe
When I in thy deare companie may bee,
And when far from thy side I must needs goe
These joys doe yet remain to comfort mee.
First of my joyes, my hearts own dearest prize,
Is but to gaze upon thy beauty bright;
Thy cheeke of ivory, thy midnight eyes,
And haire like ravens wing, my queen of night.
Next of my joys, dear Mistresse of my mind,
Is thatt true friendshippe of my very soule
Thou giv'st to mee; in thee alone I finde
Thatt other part of mee, which makes mee whole.
Last of my joies, my Ladie full of grace,
And none could aske a greater joy than this
To hold thee close to mee in mine embrace,
And drink the wine of love from thy sweet kisse.
|
Copyright
Chris Robertson 1999. All rights reserved.
Return to the Poetry
Page