With that fine doublet you’ve not given me!
I love, and wish it well as heartily
As ’twere the lady I call “Flower” and “Dove.”
I look on’t front and back—a perfect fit!
The more I look, the more I long for it.
It pleases me, inside and out,
And up and down. Oh! heaven,
That you have only lent me it, not given!
Oh! how I long for it, without a doubt!
When in the morn I see it on my back,