Romira, stay,

And run not thus like a young Roe away,

No enemie

Pursues thee (foolish girle) tis onely I,

I’ll keep off harms,

If thou’lt be pleas’d to garrison mine arms;

What dost thou fear

I’ll turn a Traitour? may these Roses here

To palenesse shred,

And Lilies stand disguised in new Red,

If that I lay

A snare, wherein thou wouldst not gladly stay;

See see the Sunne

Does slowly to his azure Lodging run,

Come sit but here

And presently he’ll quit our Hemisphere,

So still among

Lovers, time is too short or else too long;

Here will we spin

Legends for them that have Love Martyrs been,

Here on this plain

We’ll talk Narcissus to a flowr again;

Come here, and chose

On which of these proud plats thou would repose,

Here maist thou shame

The rusty Violets, with the Crimson flame

Of either cheek,

And Primroses white as thy fingers seek,

Nay, thou maist prove

That mans most Noble Passion is to Love.