No no no no, my Deare let bee.
3 Better place no wit can finde
Cupids knot to loose or binde,
These sweete flowers, our fine bed too,
Us in their best language wooe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
4 This small light the Moone bestoes,
Serves thy beames for to disclose,
So to raise my heart more hie: