My Coote thy Chamber, my bosome thy Bed;
Shall be appointed for thy sleepy head.
And when it pleaseth thee to walke abroad,
(Abroad into the fields to take fresh ayre:)
The Meades with Floras treasure should be strowde,
(The mantled meaddowes, and the fields so fayre.)
And by a siluer Well (with golden sands)
Ile sit me downe, and wash thine yuory hands.
And in the sweltring heate of summer time,
I would make Cabinets for thee (my Loue:)