SONG. To her againe, she burning in a Feaver.

NOw she burnes as well as I,
Yet my heat can never dye;
She burnes that never knew desire,
She that was yce, she that was fire.
Shee whose cold heart, chaste thoughts did ar me
So, as Loves flames could never warme
The frozen bosome whereit dwelt,
She burnes, and all her beauties melt;
She burnes, and cryes, Loves fires are milde;
Feavers are Gods, He's a childe.
Love; let her know the difference
Twixt the heat of soule, and sence▪
Touch her with thy flames divine,
So shalt thou quench her fire, and mine.