Book XI, Epigram 50: In Phillida

There's not an houre thou dost not plunder mee
When thou perceiv'st me mad with love of thee,
Phillis thou thiev'st with such calliditie.
One while thy cheating Maid weeps for the loss
Of some rich Gem, Earing, or Looking-glasse,
Which from her hand or eare did slip or passe.
Then the Silk-gowns are stolen away shee'le fain.
To be recovered at my charge and pain,
Or else some Sweet-box must be fill'd again.

Another while there is an appetite
To a rich Jug of falerne wine that's right
To expiate the terrors of the night

Another while a great Jack I must buy,
Or else a two pound Barble: some sweet shee
Bespeaks a supper at thy cost with thee.

Blush then at last, and Phillis let there bee
A just respect of truth and equitie,
I grudg thee nothing: Nought deny to mee.