The fifth Song

It is an offence to love, and to love you;
Wou'd I were blind, or you were true.
Why should there be a mine of joyes within
Your Body, and to know't a sin?

If I do say I love, I'm sure tis fit,
If I have judgement, or have wit:
For your deserts are wonders that would move
Not onely mine, but any's love.

Some half-soul'd men that cannot tell what tis
To love or hate beyond a kiss;
By seeing you do kindle a strange fire
Within them, and your sweets desire.

You need not clothes, nor art, nor with a smile
Hope any mans heart to beguile:
Your Coyness, your Neglects, your Frowns will do
More then all Ladies else that wooe.

Tis not my weakness, but tis your desert,
I am not owner of my heart: