I

Each darkmans I pass in an old shady grove, [1]
And live not the lightmans I toute not my love, [2]
I surtoute every walk, which we used to pass, [3]
And couch me down weeping, and kiss the cold grass: [4]
I cry out on my mort to pity my pain,
And all our vagaries remember again.

II

Didst thou know, my dear doxy, but half of the smart [5]
Which has seized on my panter, since thou didst depart; [6]
Didst thou hear but my sighs, my complaining and groans,
Thou'dst surely retoure, and pity my moans: [7]
Thou'dst give me new pleasure for all my past pain,
And I should rejoice in thy glaziers again. [8]

III

But alas! 'tis my fear that the false _Patri-coe_ [9]
Is reaping those transports are only my due:
Retoure, my dear doxy, oh, once more retoure,
And I'll do all to please thee that lies in my power:
Then be kind, my dear dell, and pity my pain,
And let me once more toute thy glaziers again

IV

On redshanks and tibs thou shalt every day dine, [10]