Sweet stay a while, why will you rise?
The light you see comes from your eyes:
The day breakes not, it is my heart,
To thinke that you and I must part.
O stay, or else my joyes must dye,
And perish in their infancie.
Deare let me dye in this faire breast,
Farre sweeter then the Phoenix next.
Love raise desire by his sweete charmes
Within this circle of thine armes:
And let thy blissefull kisses cherish
Mine infant joyes, that else must perish.