This thing unto my sight
Was wondrous rare and strange,
And in my soul and inward thought 95
It wrought a sudden change:
That I so hardy grew
To take her by the hand,
Saying, "Sweet mistress, why do you
So dull and pensive stand?" 100
"Call me no mistress now,
But Sarah, thy true friend,
Thy servant, Milwood, honouring thee,
Until her life hath end.
"If thou wouldst here alledge 105
Thou art in years a boy;
So was Adonis, yet was he
Fair Venus' only joy."
Thus I, who ne'er before
Of woman found such grace, 110
But seeing now so fair a dame
Give me a kind embrace,
I supt with her that night,
With joys that did abound;
And for the same paid presently, 115
In mony twice three pound.
An hundred kisses then,
For my farewel she gave;
Crying, "Sweet Barnwell, when shall I
Again thy company have? 120
"O stay not hence too long;
Sweet George, have me in mind:"
Her words bewicht my childishness,
She uttered them so kind.
So that I made a vow, 125
Next Sunday, without fail,
With my sweet Sarah once again
To tell some pleasant tale.
When she heard me say so,
The tears fell from her eye; 130
"O George," quoth she, "if thou dost fail,
Thy Sarah sure will dye."