Oh why should enuie with sweet loue consorte
But that, with loues excesse seuen sinnes vnite:
Pride: that in high respect of my delight
I scorne all others. Lust: that with disporte
In thought of her, I sometimes take comfort.
Wrath: that with those in secret hart I fight
Which smile on her. And enuie: that I spight
Such meates, and wines as to her lippes resorte
And tuch that tongue, which I can neuer kisse.
Sloath: that secure in too much loue I sleepe
And nuzzled so, am to be free'de remisse.
And couetous I neuer meane can keepe
In crauing, wishing, and in working this
Though still I kisse and tuch, still tuch and kisse.