The Excuse. To the Ladie E. B

Your lovely fair did first invite
Me to that strange demand,
Your wanton eie big with delight,
Made me to understand
You pleasant as your looks, where every glance
Did raise and court my warm bloud to advance.
Then blame not me for loving you,
Who if alow'd would not do so?
Henceforth I'l sit demure by you,
Nor speak when you w'ud hear,
Just as I w'ud your picture view,
Behold you and admire.
For if I speak, you prompt my tongue with love,
And 'cause I tel 't you, you unkind reprove.
Then blame not me for saying so,
Since 'twas your beauty bid me woe.