Upon a delaying Lady.

COme come away,
Or let me go;
Must I here stay,
Because y'are slow;
And will continue so?
Troth Lady, no.

I scorne to be
A slave to state:
And since I'm free,
I will not wait,
Henceforth at such a rate,
For needy Fate.

If you desire
My spark sho'd glow,
The peeping fire
You must blow;
Or I shall quickly grow,
To Frost or Snow.