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Then, Julia, let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv'ry feet
My soul I'll pour into thee.
- 620 ##
620. TO SIR CLIPSEBY CREW.
Give me wine, and give me meat,
To create in me a heat,
That my pulses high may beat.
Cold and hunger never yet
Could a noble verse beget;
But your bowls with sack replete.
Give me these, my knight, and try
In a minute's space how I
Can run mad and prophesy.
Then, if any piece prove new
And rare, I'll say, my dearest Crew,
It was full inspired by you.
- 621 ##
621. GOOD LUCK NOT LASTING.
If well the dice run, let's applaud the cast:
The happy fortune will not always last.
- 622 ##
622. A KISS.
What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve:
The sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
