Such as are on a Cath’rine pear,
(The side that’s next the sun.)
Her lips were red; and one was thin,
Compar’d to that was next her chin;
(Some bee had stung it newly)
But (Dick) her eyes so guard her face,
I durst no more upon them gaze,
Than on the sun in July.
Her mouth so small, when she does speak,
Thoud’st swear her teeth her words did break,