Philomela’s Ode that She Sung in her Arbour

Sitting by a Riuers side,
Where a silent streame did glide,
Muse I did of many things,
That the mind in quiet brings.
I gan thinke how some men deeme
Gold their god, and some esteeme
Honour is the chiefe content,
That to man in life is lent.
And some others doe contend,
Quiet none, like to a friend.
Others hold, there is no wealth
Compared to a perfect health.
Some mans mind in quiet stands,
When he is Lord of many lands.
But I did sigh, and sayd all this
Was but a shade of perfect blis.
And in my thoughts I did approue,
Nought so sweet as is true loue,
Loue twixt louers passeth these,
When mouth kisseth and hart grees,
With folded armes and lippes meeting,
Each soule another sweetly greeting.
For by the breath the soule fleeteth,
And soule with soule in kissing meeteth.
If Loue be so sweet a thing,
That such happy blisse doth bring,
Happy is loues sugred thrall,
But vnhappy maydens all,
Who esteeme your Virgins blisses,
Sweeter then a wiues sweet kisses.
No such quiet to the mind,
As true loue with kisses kind.
But if a kisse proue vnchast,
Then is true loue quite disgrast.
Though loue be sweet, learn this of me
No loue sweet but honesty.