A NEW SONG.

OF all the brisk Dancers my Saleena for me,
For I love not a woman unless she be free;
The affection that I to my Mystriss do pay,
Grows weary unless she do meet me half-way:
There can be no pleasure till humour do hit,
Then Jumping is as good as affection in wit.
No sooner I came, but she lik'd me as soon;
No sooner I ask'd but She graunted my boon.
And without a preamble, a Portion or Joynter,
She promis'd to meet me, where ere I appoint her,
So we struck up the Match, and Embraced each other
Without the consent of Father or Mother.
Then away with the Lady that's Modest and Coy
Let her end be the pleasure that we do enjoy.
Let her tickle her Fancy with secret delight,
And refuse all the day what she longs for at night.
I believe my Sallena say they are all mad
To pick on dry bones while flesh may be had.