Thence fear of surfeiting made me retire;
Next on her warmer lips, which, when I tasted,
My duller spirits made active as fire.
Then we began to dart,
Each at another's heart,
Arrows that knew no smart,
Sweet lips and smiles between.
20Never Mark, &c.
Wanting a glass to plait her amber tresses
Which like a bracelet rich deckéd mine arm,